Staff List: The 10 Best U.K. & Ireland Songs of 2025 (So Far)

“Take A Sexy Picture Of Me” transforms a painful experience of online harassment and sexism into a stomping country-pop anthem. Flipping the aching of its source material into a winsome reverie allows the track to build and build into a message of reclamation, taking us through the bustling streets of CMAT’s mind along the way. Vocally, she oozes into the final chorus, unbothered and in her lane, offering a masterclass in holding one’s power.

Jim Legxacy is an intriguing prospect in the British underground scene. The Lewisham singer/rapper and producer is yet to perform live or release a full-length LP, but already possesses an impassioned fanbase, label deal (XL Recordings), and co-signs (Fred Again.., Central Cee, Dave) that other acts may spend a career chasing for. “Father,” which features on his superb mixtape Black British Music, speaks to exactly what makes this cult star so special: production that flickers with a prismatic richness, cool, clean vocals, and oodles of personality. 

What advice would Kae Tempest give their younger self, if they had the chance? Sounding in command and at ease, the south Londoner answers this very question at the start of “Know Yourself,”  a pulsing ode to personal evolution: “I’d tell them, ‘Soon child, you are gonna find release’.” It’s a powerful opening statement, one that sets the stage for Tempest’s most extraordinary track to date, one which sees the 39-year-old – who came out as non-binary in 2020 – acknowledge their past, and plot where to put their foot next. Their plain-spoken, tempered tone pops with personality, making their musings on growth land with the impact of an exploding grenade.

The glossy “One Thing” – full of longing, and equal levels of charisma and defiance – is one of the finest examples of Lola Young’s soaring, main-character pop. The south Londoner’s voice never stays still; it yelps and warbles as she goes through the gamut of desire, bursting with an electric level of intimacy. With a new LP lined up for September, the rest of 2025 is Young’s to take – a feat surely destined, if the rest of the record sounds anything like this.

International, released this fall via indie stalwart Heavenly Recordings, will be the final Saint Etienne album after 35 years as a band. The trio’s outsized impact on British pop has seen them cross paths with Kylie Minogue and production behemoths Xenomania in the past, but as the end of their time together approaches, it’s Sarah Cracknell’s wise, alluringly timeless voice that still stands them apart. This woozy number, which stars the Chemical Brothers’ Tom Rowlands on production, dazzles with its ode to life’s adventures and rousing guitar rushes, full of sun, sky and flight.

The north London-raised artist’s highest-charting song to date is perhaps also her most low-key. Over gorgeous, subtle, ambling percussion, Dean conveys the almost nauseous feeling of a love that’s starting to tail off – before brushing off any concerns with ease. “I don’t want a boyfriend,” she shrugs at one point, while an acoustic guitar line starts to undulate in the background, as pretty and gentle as seawater lightly lapping the shore.

“Two minutes 57 seconds… this is basically her ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’,” posted one Reddit user when “Tonight” dropped earlier this year, in reference to one of PinkPantheress’ longest tracks to date. You can understand their bemusement; for years, brevity had been integral to the songwriter and producer’s output. This sparkling number sees her mix styles more seamlessly than ever, too – rattling and gliding from one hook to another, interpolating a Panic! at the Disco sample and jumping between zippy house beats.

Beneath this heart-racing comeback song – the lead single from Pulp’s first album in 24 years – lies a fascinating dichotomy. If a looping spiral of keys and percussion pose a feeling of optimism, dig deeper and you’ll find pained musings of the passing of time. Using the Stone Roses’ ill-fated 1990 Spike Island gig as a metaphor for bruised nostalgia, frontman Jarvis Cocker contemplates the gravity of returning to the limelight. Did his ‘90s celebrity status feed his soul or kill it, he ponders, before breaking into a chorus so delirious it suggests that nothing really matters at all.

This standout track from the blockbuster People Watching LP reflects the mood in these uncertain times: hurrying, anxious and underlaid with a feeling of vulnerability. But instead of speaking to a wider societal issue – as much of Fender’s usual fare does – it sees our author look inward and embrace some cold rage, with lyrics about the spiral of fame mirroring the song’s sharp, unnerving arrangement. There’s something awe-inspiring, too, about the way Fender stalks through the final chorus: a reminder of his sometimes underrated vocal power.

It would make sense, perhaps, that Wolf Alice would return from a four-year absence by further teasing out the anticipation. “Bloom Baby Bloom” opens with a simple, staccato samba rhythm, before Ellie Rowsell’s breathy vocal starts to circle around the melody, impatiently waiting to be set free. And when the chorus hits, she roars: this barnstorming comeback single features the band’s most impassioned performance to date, an addictive headrush where half the high can be found in that initial build-up alone.