The 100 Best Songs of 2024

Talk about a breakthrough. With “Beautiful Things,” Benson Boone delivered a soulful ballad about fearing the loss of love, and a radio hit. Boone opens the track with soft reflection on how good he’s got it (“I hold you every night/And that’s a feeling I wanna get used to”), before his emotive vocals shift to reveal a deep anxiety in a plea to God: “Don’t take these beautiful things that I’ve got.” It’s no surprise the massive hit earned him a Best New Artist nod at the 2025 Grammys. The song’s vulnerability and Boone’s vocal prowess made it one of the biggest songs of the year. —Tomas Mier

Myke Towers and Bad Bunny have been frequent collaborators throughout the years. But “Adivino” is their most unexpected link-up yet, starting with the song’s dark, dubby production and thudding electronic beat, thanks to work from producers Cruz, Eiby, Finesse, Jerom Su’a, and Tainy. From there, Bad Bunny and Towers keep things unpredictable: Bad Bunny charges in and throws some cryptic lines about an old relationship that instantly got the internet wondering who he was referring to, while Towers goes hard on his verses, even rapping a few lines in English. —Julyssa Lopez.

The London producer A.G. Cook helped put the “hyper” in hyper pop, with fellow innovators like Sophie, QT, and Hiraku Utada, as well as his longtime collaborator Charli XCX. But Cook had a massive year in 2024 — not only is he all over Brat, he scored an audacious U.K. club banger in “Britpop.” This song has everything: mega-caffeinated synth blips, shiny-shiny beats, Charli chanting “Brit-Brit-Brit like Britpop!” You also have to love how Cook refurbishes this entertainingly endless argument starter of a catchphrase just in time for the Oasis reunion tour. —Rob Sheffield

ENHYPEN have become one of the fastest rising K-pop groups, with an international lineup and a sound that sometimes veers into the darkly dramatic (the biggest song on their 2023 EP, Dark Blood, was called “Bite Me).” But “XO (Only If You Say Yes)” has a more lighthearted feel, opening with a dreamy intro and driven by summery flecks of funk guitar. Jungwon, Heeseung, Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Ni-ki all get distinct vocals, leading up to a chorus you won’t be able to shake until next spring. It’s proof of how ENHYPEN aren’t afraid to keep pushing their artistic boundaries. —Kristine Kwak

“We don’t gotta take it slow/I’m-a hit the gas if you ready to go,” Kehlani sings. In the space of this moment of club-levitating R&B gorgeousness, the future sounds like nothing but endless horizons and shattered speed limits. It’s also a hot flash of early-2000s nostalgia, with Kehlani vibing along to the Coolie Dance dancehall riddim that lit up several hits 20 years ago. She makes the groove her own, lighting up a blissful dance floor escapade. Her year also included a shoutout on an another of 2024’s best songs.—Jon Dolan

The Black Keys swerved back toward their Nineties roots with this year’s Ohio Players (yep, it took them 12 albums to name a record Ohio Players), teaming up with pals like Beck, Noel Gallagher, and Dan the Automator. The best song, “On the Game,” delivers the catchiest melody these guys have ever come up with, a beautiful mash-note to the baggy-pantsed beauty of vintage Brit pop, with Gallagher on board adding Waterloo-sunstroke guitar. It was a different retro look for the Keys, and they wore it well. —J.D.

Bangalore MC Hanumankind’s breakout single garnered attention from gawkers for its eye-popping video, which stationed the rapper in a “well of death” where vehicles trick gravity into letting them ride its wooden walls. But his battery-acid-dipped drawl is well-matched to the clip’s chaos — over a grimy beat by Hyderabad-based producer and DJ Kalmi, he matter-of-factly runs down how and why he’s “pushin’ culture, baby, got that product you can’t measure,” swaggering and mirroring the cool he exhibits while vehicles whip and spectators thrash above him. —Maura Johnston 

The indie-rock legends Nada Surf made a smashing return this year with Moon Mirror, one of their finest albums, full of exquisite guitar chime and impeccable tune craft. Matthew Caws sings witty but heartfelt vignettes about trying to get a grip on your sanity — maybe even true love? — in the chaos and grief of modern life. “In Front of Me Now” is a playful ode to how multitasking sucks, and learning how to tune out the distractions that block you from showing up for your own life. “I used to be counting when I was sharing,” Caws sings. “I used to be blanking when I was staring.” —R.S.

What’s the fastest route to self-actualization? Take the elevator. That’s what Magdalena Bay propose on “That’s My Floor,” from their excellent second album Imaginal Disk. The track contains everything great about Mica Tenenbaum and Matthew Lewin’s kaleidoscopic alterna-pop: hook-packed songwriting that holds together a plethora of tones and textures. “I’m coming up to the party and I want more,” they declare. But transcendence is never so simple. A few lines later, Tenenbaum embraces a bit of surrender in the search for meaning: “But floating above the lobby, that’s my door/I let it open me.” —Jon Blistein

Jordan Adetunji — a hip-hop newcomer of Nigerian descent from Northern Ireland — scored a viral hit with “Kehlani,” even before the R&B star that it’s named for hopped on the remix. In her version, Kehlani channeled Adetunji’s speedy Rap&B melodies and sounds great over his moody, drill beat. While Adetunji charmingly pursued women that he found as attractive as the Oakland beauty, cooing to one “You bad just like Kehlani is,” Kehlani’s approach is more player and more woo-woo, too. “I need a brand new starting five” she says in one line and, in another, “I only want it if it’s aligned.” These two align well. —Mankaprr Conteh

Few people can transform “I’ve had it” moments into surly, hooky jukebox-ready cuts like Miranda Lambert, and this loose-limbed Postcards From Texas standout is her latest red-lipsticked kiss-off. While Lambert clearly has some nagging frustrations over the hapless ex who was “livin’ in the dark, but … couldn’t see the light of day” until she hightailed it out of his double-wide, she’s also gained enough perspective on her dalliance to move on and find success elsewhere — and with a slightly harder shell that isn’t as dazzled by instant chemistry. —M.J. 

“I want to drink my milk in my own filth,” sings Abby Sage on “Milk,” her fragile tone floating above a swaying, sly acoustic guitar and contained percussion. Sage’s lyricism throughout her album Rot is totally carnal, evocative, and fantastical, anchored by her thoughtful interiority and utter awareness of her physical form. “Milk” is a whimsical exploration of childhood through several lenses: the innocence of being young, the filthiness of discovery, and the charm of curiosity. —Leah Lu

It’s easy to create rock & roll fiction, but it’s much harder to pull it off. So it’s no wonder that playwright David Adjmi, director Daniel Aukin, and ex-Arcade Fire member Will Butler spent 11 years creating Stereophonic, now the most Tony-nominated play ever. Butler masterfully delivered songs a Seventies rock band on the cusp of stardom would realistically create. “Masquerade,” a boogie-chugging rocker that erupts in riff-tastic grandeur, steals the show. It’s the moment in the play where the audience begins to root for the band, and quietly say to themselves, “Is this song available on vinyl?” —Angie Martoccio

Zach Top, a breakout country star who grew up on a ranch in rural Washington, combines a pristine throwback sound — think Nineties country-radio stars like George Strait — with modern storytelling and personal quirks. His 2024 album, Cold Beer & Country Music, is a study in finely balanced traditionalism, identifiably old-school but never distractingly so. This gut-punch ballad is the album’s most powerful moment — a slow-mo, big-chorused sketch of two lonely people coming together to ease each other’s pain, if only for a moment. —Christian Hoard

One of this year’s most welcome comebacks was the return of Nineties indie-folk duo the Softies. The Bed I Made, their first album since 1999, is full of stunning melodies, Saturday-sunshine guitar prettiness, and perfect harmony singing, with this song about driving away from a dying love as one of many album standouts. They sing about going down the highway late at night, from Sacramento to Elk Grove, crying along to the country songs on the radio. The bittersweet beauty here is good enough to give them their own vaunted place in the sad-song canon. —J.D.

FlyLo has been off the scene for a while, directing sci-fi movies and cooking up unreleased heat at home. That made his return with this bouncy, bubbly house track an even more welcome surprise. The title, referencing a Korean term for a middle-aged guy, is a sign that he’s not taking himself too seriously here. (“I’m in my uncle era,” he told RS.) So are the pitched-up vocal loops and groovy rhythms that cascade all through the track. Sometimes even the most mind-melting experimental wizard in the cosmos just wants to make you dance. —Simon Vozick-Levinson

After nearly 15 years as Mike and the Moonpies, Mike Harmeier’s Texas all-stars rebranded as Silverada this year and released one of the best albums of their career. With a whoa-whoa chorus and slashing guitars, “Radio Wave” sounds like country rock as rendered by U2. The lyrics even include a sick burn of those who dare classify Silverada — the most country of country bands — as Americana. “Americana is a myth/I told ya,” Harmeier spits, before guitarist Catlin Rutherford rips into a solo that’ll make your hair stand on end. —Joseph Hudak

Few, if any, indie songwriters can deliver an earworm as well as Illuminati Hotties’ Sarah Tudzin. On “Can’t Be Still,” she puts her gift for grabby arrangements and grabbier hooks — simple but effective riffage, percolating verses, frothy chorus — in service of lyrics about needing to stay in constant motion. The words are fitting for someone who, in addition to making her own albums, stays busy mixing, producing, and engineering for others (she got nominated for three Grammys for her work on the last boygenius album). Here’s hoping that even if Tudzin slows down, the catchy tunes don’t. —C.H.

In March, Nigerian superstar Wizkid put out PSAs on social media rejecting the notion that he’s just an Afrobeats artist. On “Piece of My Heart” featuring Brent Faiyaz, the Nigerian superstar delivers strong evidence for his argument. The song is a well structured and experimental blend of R&B and Afropop paired with some of Wizkid’s best writing yet. He brings a chameleonic musicality into this sleek, languid track that sounds like a rush of cold water on a hot summer day, while illustrating the daring new phase he is entering into. —Nelson C.J.

One of the year’s most heartwarming albums was Proxy Music, from 76-year-old folk legend Linda Thompson. No longer able to sing due to a neurological disorder, Thompson passed off vocal duties to friends and relatives. On the wonderful “Those Damn Roches,” her son Teddy offers up a tribute to the grounding power of the families in their music community — the Roches, the McGarrigle-Wainwrights, “the far-away Thompsons,” and others, “bound together in blood and song.” It’s a beautiful reminder of the real bedrock reasons we play and love music, and carry it through life. —J.D.

Just when you think you’ve heard just about all the retro-Nineties indie-guitar recombinations you need in one lifetime, these U.K. malcontents come up with one so ingenious, and yet so palm-smacking-forehead obvious it seems criminal no one’s thought of it before. To wit: “Midas,” the title track from their great second album, sounds like Nirvana’s In Utero crossed with Radiohead’s The Bends. And it bangs like Hades. That’s it. That’s the retro-Nineties indie-guitar recombination. Sometimes it really is the simple things. —J.D.

Dua Lipa might have called her third album Radical Optimism, but its punchy second single exhibits the sort of world-weariness that can only come from feeling stuck on the disappointing-first-date assembly line. Lipa’s no stranger to calling out bad romances on cuts like her 2017 smash “New Rules.” But the exhaustion she exhibits toward those who might try to trifle with her on the jittery “Training Season” (produced by Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker) is heightened by a pinging guitar that sounds like a last nerve on the verge of fully fraying. —M.J.  

One thing never changes: The world will always need slutty Nineties R&B monogamy jams. Enter the Bed-Stuy rapper Lola Brooke, who teams up with Jeremih to turn on the red-light special in “No One Else.” It’s the ballad of a couple with a long list of boudoir secrets that nobody besides them will ever know, as Brooke asks, “Is it the energy or Hennessy that make you wanna be a daddy to a mini-me?” Brooke had a TikTok hit in 2021 with “Don’t Play With It,” but this is her self-proclaimed “aggressive Soft Girl Era,” flexing like her idols Foxy and Kim. This is what it sounds like when freaks match. —R.S.

California singer-songwriter Christian Lee Hutson tends to write with an folk-rock delicateness, but he turned it up and let the guitars crash around him for this tale of mismatched lovers. “How could you know how I feel?” Hutson repeats. With vocal support from Maya Hawke and co-producer Phoebe Bridgers, the song soars into a catastrophic mix of beautifully mangled guitars, breathy exasperation, and crushed illusions, leaving us with the image of a relationship ending in the corner booth these two used to share. —Gabrielle Macafee

The Black Crowes had no business putting out an album as good as Happiness Bastards, their comeback LP after years spent estranged and sniping. A collection of 10 crisp rockers, it was hard to pick a best track, but “Wanting and Waiting” is a real contender. With echoes of “Jealous Again,” it’s a singalong defined by the inherent chemistry of one of rock’s best frontmen, Chris Robinson, and his riff-tastic guitar-slinging brother, Rich. Gallagher brothers, take note: If the Robinson siblings can mend fences, reunite, and rock this hard, you can too. —J.H.

New York singer-songwriter May Rio’s understanding of “just how good it feels/to smash apart” comes on like a slowly growing revelation on this cut from her stripped-down full-length Elegant Ensemble. The trembling piano backing her recollections of absolute chaos — a T-boning during a teenaged joyride, a relationship headed for oblivion — adds an edge to her hyper-girlie delivery, presaging the doom and sonic disarray that rises up as Rio’s breakthrough hurtles toward its close. —M.J.

Ayra Starr is a master at ennobling the ordinary, imbuing minute — even mundane, romantic experiences are written with an acute understanding of what it means to come of age today. “Lagos Love Story,” a bouncy, diaristic highlight from her vibrant sophomore project, The Year I Turned 21, is a perfect encapsulation of her playful storytelling, with lyrics that observantly take note of quirks that define the tricky state of dating in Lagos. Her voice drives home the message, turned down many notches to a rasp in some parts and turned up when reiterating a catchy observation on an even catchier hook. —N.C.J.

You know the Y2K nostalgia cycle is in full effect when acoustic guitars paired with record-scratching comes roaring back. That’s not to say Hovvdy’s “Forever” is full-on Sugar Ray pastiche. Its charms are ultimately more back-porch country, fused with some of the tender, electronic open-heartedness of the Postal Service, a novel combination that blossoms into the simple declaration: “Goddamn I swear I/Will always love you/Yeah, I’ll fall forever.” The record-scratching is deftly placed accoutrement, a fun feature that warms the heart, and makes the prospect of “Forever” irresistible. —J. Blistein

What better way for Kesha to celebrate her musical independence (and post-litigation freedom) than reconnecting with the subversive, cheesy-naughty energy that made her a radio staple in the early 2010s. Lyrics like “Rev my engine till you make it purr” and “You want kids? Well, I am Mother” channeled the spirit of “TiK ToK” and “We R Who We R” without falling back on old tropes. After a heavy album like last year’s Gag Order, “Joyride” feels fresh and exciting, and welcomes back the messy, sexy, dirty Kesha that we, the pop stans, truly missed. We’re glad you’re back, Kesha. —T.M.

A highlight off Beabadoobee’s third LP, This Is How Tomorrow Moves, “Beaches” packs the serenity of Malibu into a singular song, and it continues to prove she’s one of the best artists around at remaking the best Nineties alt-rock in her own image. As crunchy guitars that recall Weezer’s “Island in the Sun” crash around the chorus, Beabadoobee finds her bliss in life’s duality, and shares her latest discovery about adult life: “Don’t wait for the tide, just to dip both your feet in.” Of course, the sentiment is reached in producer Rick Rubin’s Shangri-La studio in Malibu. —Maya Georgi

Blackpink’s Lisa made big moves this summer, dropping her first solo music since 2021, in anticipation of her upcoming Alter Ego. She went Eighties for her Blondie-bent K-pop banger “Rockstar,” but “New Woman” doubles up with a taste of Rosalía’s future-glam charisma. Both global queens boast about “revvin’ up my au-au-au-aura,” with help from Max Martin, Ilya, and Tove Lo. “New Woman” bangs in a late-Nineties teen-pop mode, with none-more-Swedish beats that could have come straight from the MTV Total Request Live studios, plus a video that eroticizes flip phones and fax machines. —R.S.

If your Instagram or TikTok scroll sessions were full of shimmying shoulders and staggered steps at any point this year, chances are they were set to the amapiano track “Tshwala Bam.” South African producers TitoM and Yuppe teamed up on its intense and brooding beat, with S.N.E on lead vocals and EeQue for additional ones. “Tshwala Bam” is performed in isiZulu, their country’s most widely spoken indigenous language. S.N.E, who wrote the hook, has said that the party sounds on the track are actually about the perils of abusing “tshwala” — alcohol, which he’s seen torment people around him. —M.C.

Doechii hops on the therapy couch in her mind to revisit her past five years on this highlight from her 2024 mixtape, Alligator Bites Never Heal. The Florida MC’s point-by-point retelling of her escapades (which, the Florida MC told Rolling Stone in October, was inspired by Slick Rick’s “Children’s Story”) includes breakups and breakdowns, as well as her memorable fantasy of turning one ex’s “guts into soup beans.” Her gimlet-eyed view of recent goings-on — including sex, drugs, and hip-hop stardom — is self-lacerating and witty even at its darkest. —M.J..   

Few groups are as good at pissing off the right people (or getting pissed) as Kneecap, the Belfast trio known for their Irish-language raps and the strong left bent of their Irish republican politics. The title track from their debut album is a brash nobody’s-role-model anthem that finds MCs Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara rebuffing expectation, relishing debauchery, and raving through the media firestorm they created with a mural of a burning police van. “You can love us or hate us, won’t affect a bit of our wages,” goes Bap’s rallying cry. “More merch, more drugs, less cops, more thugs, more scum, more … fine art.” —J. Blistein

“Soup,” from Remi Wolf’s trippy second album, Big Ideas, is straight out of a synth-pop dream. It’s a song quite simply about loving someone so much that you want to buy them soup when they’re sick, which Wolf makes sound like the greatest declaration of endearment and intimacy in human history. Her voice is uncontainable and raspy, building into an explosive bridge and spilling back over into the chorus, where she screams: “They told me to leave, but I don’t wanna leave without you.” It’s the kind of perfectly realized song some artists spend a career chasing without getting close. Wolf makes it look easy. —Larisha Paul

This lush border-crossing collaboration between música Mexicana star Carin Leon and rootsy Texas R&B artist Leon Bridges beautifully updated the rich Mexican American tradition in country music, which goes back to Seventies greats like Freddy Fender and Johnny Rodriquez. “It Was Always You (Siempre Fuiste Tú)” is a painstakingly lovely heartbreak ballad in which the two artists’ voices weave together in a sublime moment of bilingual harmony. Bridges brought a similar cross-cultural spirit to his album from this year, Leon, which was partly recorded in Mexico City. —J.D.

Stevie Nicks wrote this fierce women’s rights anthem directly following the demise of Roe v. Wade, and if that wasn’t already badass enough, she enlisted Sheryl Crow to co-produce and play guitar. Particularly after the events of this fall, the track resonates now more than ever. Nicks’ signature growl arrives on the scene like a lightning storm, one that strikes once, maybe twice. “It sounds like Marvin Gaye walking down a seedy alley and singing about life, and he runs into Dave Grohl and the Foo Fighters when he turns the corner,” she told us. “That’s how I hear it.” We couldn’t agree more. —Angie Martoccio

It’d be hard to deem Drake a winner in the court of public opinion after battling Kendrick Lamar this spring, but “Family Matters” was a convincing reminder of why the rapper was so beloved in the first place. Much of the song is ugly: He levies heinous accusations of domestic violence, a failing relationship, and a grave betrayal by his business partner against Lamar. Still, over three beat switches, Drake’s last two flows are especially impressive, and he flexes his comedic muscle while doing some grade A hating with bars like “Kendrick just opened his mouth/Someone go hand him a Grammy right now.” —M.C.

Sweet and sunny, Tems’ “Love Me JeJe” is inspired by a radically different Nigerian hip-hop song of the same name (a 1997 tune from Seyi Sodumi). Tems completely reimagines its rap and boom bap with new lovelorn lyrics wrapped around Sodumi’s cute chorus, tinny guitar, and raw Afro drumming. The way Tems sings about her utter devotion takes the straightforward shape of other moments in her freestyle discography but leaves the gravity of hits like “Higher” and “Free Mind.” Intimate in its simplicity, the song is still structured well enough to be built into a grand, orchestral affair. —M.C.

Kentucky songwriter Elvie Shane adds an instant classic to country’s pantheon of prison songs with this look at how the penal system dehumanizes inmates. “My name ain’t my name no more/It’s 215634,” he sings in a whine straight out of the holler, rattling off his new identity. The song is also a statement on recidivism: The protagonist ends up back behind bars for shooting a man in self-defense with a gun he illegally owned. —J.H.

Gracie Abrams has an architectural gift for crafting a great bridge, and the spiraling one on “I Love You, I’m Sorry” is a career best. The song picks up where she left off four years prior with “I Miss You, I’m Sorry,” where she endured cuts from picking up the shards of a broken relationship. The continuation is just as breezy in sound, but leans into chaos. “As sick as it sounds, I loved you first/I was a dick, it is what it is,” she spits, balancing guilt and nonchalance in her voice. She paints herself as a villain before anyone gets the chance to, and her self-awareness keeps you on her side. —L.P.

Time doesn’t exactly slip into the future on Nilüfer Yanya’s “Like I Say (I Runaway).” It’s more inescapable. Rife with the pressure to seize it, make the most of it, spend it the right way, because it’s the one thing you can’t get back, can’t control. The London singer-songwriter pairs this meditation with a mesmerizing lead guitar riff that bends through the verses with a rich acoustic thunk before leaping into fuzzed-out delirium as she sings, “The minute I’m not in control/I’m tearing up inside/And I can’t stop you leaving/Is the biggest fear of mine.” —J.B.

We all needed a little escapism this year, and one of the best sources was BossMan Dlow’s “Get in With Me,” a two-minute invitation to ride along in the Miami rapper’s paradise of penthouse Hibachi, club comps, and reckless driving. Over an urgent Dxntemadeit beat, Bossman rhymes with an off-kilter cadence, South Florida twang, and infectious confidence that makes every line feel ripe for virality. Earlier this year he rhetorically asked detractors if they preferred if he rapped like Kendrick Lamar. If the music’s not going to sound like “Get in With Me,” our answer is hell no. —Andre Gee

Each instrument in the Irish post-punk band’s scowling “Starburster” is ushered in one by one like a grand reintroduction. A seesaw of fuzzy synths lays the groundwork. Enter: a jangly piano, cascading sustained background vocals, a propulsive drumbeat … and then a total free fall once frontman Grian Chatten’s punchy, grungy flow kicks in. Call it what you want — a sonic departure, a sexy reinvention — but one thing’s for sure: it’s Fontaines D.C. at their best. —L.L.

Shakira channeling her Nineties rock-era energy was not on anyone’s 2024 bingo card, but we sure as hell will take it. On the track off her 12th LP, Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran, the Colombian singer taps into the angsty soundscapes of her classic 1998 album, Dónde Están los Ladrones?, for an exquisite pop-rock moment. Shakira proclaims, “Life’s a bitch,” before using this grungy cut to essentially say “Fuck it” and remind herself and her listeners to seize the moment, no matter how, where, or when. —M.G.

“I want to be the sunlight of the century,” the folk singer declares on the shimmering standout from her new album, Here in the Pitch. “I want to be a vestige of our senses free.” Lyrics aside, “World on a String” is also a melodic wonderland — three minutes of blissful, subtle instrumentation that gives the “less is more” thing a whole new meaning. “On this track, I was influenced by the swaying, naive brilliance of ‘lost’ teenage garage rock bands, as well as enduring loves like the Nazz and Guided by Voices,” Pratt said. —A.M.

For anyone looking to break up with someone who has been totally undeserving of your attention and has played in your face one too many times, erase that paragraph you were about to send them. Text them the link to Rachel Chinouriri’s “Never Need Me” instead. The singer-songwriter teaches a master class in power reclamation with an eviscerating takedown on the bouncing pop record. “In my head, you can do what you like/Oh, no, I couldn’t care what you do with your life.” Chinouriri slams the door shut and locks it. Take notes, hit send, then delete their number. —L.P.

To open her latest studio album, Deeper Well, Kacey Musgraves looked to nature to set the tone. “I saw the sign or an omen on the branches in the morning/It was right after I lost a friend without warning,” the country superstar sings on the LP’s introspective opener, “Cardinal,” which was inspired by Musgraves’ late friend John Prine. “Cardinal, are you bringing me a message from the other side?” she sings on the chorus of the transfixing track, which is steeped in Seventies melodies and rolling acoustic riffs that would surely make Prine smile. —J. Lonsdale

“Active” is Asake keeping his trademark cool over some of his most explosive production yet, a carnival of New Orleans bounce, hip-house, and an incessant sample of fuji classic “Raise the Roof” by Jazzman Olofin and Adewale Ayuba. Surprisingly, rage-master Travis Scott and Asake are impressive bedfellows. In his performances of “Active” on his Lungu Boy World Tour, Asake would run laps around arenas, cameramen winded and flanking behind him. It is, in fact, the kind of song that pumps you up enough to take off head first toward a break wall and make it to the other side. —M.C.

This year, acts like GloRilla, Latto, and Ice Spice traveled back to the 2000s to make rap songs that hit hard with with nostalgia, but Sexyy Red become a true queen of nostalgia with “Get It Sexyy.” The song channeled the snap and crunk music on which she and her ace producer Tay Keith were raised (snap music all-stars Soulja Boy and Fabo make perfect cameos in the delightful throwback music video, too). —M.C.