The 100 Best Songs of 2022

It sounds way too on-the-nose for Nashville: a country singer spending three minutes comparing the state of their beaten-down heart to the weathered engine of their beloved pickup truck. And yet, fast-rising country newcomer Lainey Wilson sells the premise of this mid-tempo rocker as convincingly as any single on country radio this year. By the time she shifts into vocal high gear for the chorus — “runs on dreams and gasoline” — it’s impossible not to buy into the classic Music Row premise. What makes the song work so well is Wilson’s stunning voice, which moves from near-whisper to muscular phrasing to operatic belting throughout. As Wilson sings: “There ain’t no breaking when I throw it in drive.” — J. Bernstein

Back in 1973, the Wailers raised consciousness and mobilized the masses on their quintessential protest anthem “Get Up Stand Up,” with their simple yet dramatic exhortation: “Don’t give up the fight.” Nearly 50 years later, Jamaican sing-jay Chronixx has adapted Bob Marley and Peter Tosh’s classic directive as the anchor of “Never Give Up,” produced by Inflo, whose numerous credits also include work with Adele and Little Simz. “Never Give Up” replicates the legendary trio’s early-1970s reggae sound, incorporating a rock-solid bass, loping guitars, and soulful backing vocals. But unlike The Wailers’ incendiary call to action, Chronixx utilizes “never give up the fight” as a calming, chanted mantra. — P.M.

Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield, as they say, doesn’t miss these days. To follow-up 2020’s stellar Saint Cloud, she linked with kindred spirit Jess Williamson and formed Plains. The duo offered both singers a place to dig into their foundational love of Nineties country, and debut single “Problem With It” embodies their mutual affection for that era (and highlights how great their voices sound in harmony). But as much homage as there is on this brisk, bristling song, it’s also just vintage Crutchfield. Evocative and vivid, pulling poetry from reality, she sings, “I drive fast on high alert/Pass the Jet Pep and the Baptist church/On the county line, I’ll be a songbird softly heard.” — J. Blistein

Alynda Segarra has spent their career writing one chilling anthem after the other, from 2014’s “The Body Electric” to 2017’s “Pa’lante.” But they’ve never written a song quite as viscerally powerful as “Saga,” the slow-burning tale of an abuse survivor coming to terms with past trauma as they work to move forward. Segarra is a master in using structure and form to deepen the story they’re telling, and “Saga” is a masterclass. The triumphant chorus — “I don’t want this to be/The saga of my life” — runs up against the reality of the song’s haunting outro refrain: “Nobody believed me,” Segarra sings, still trailed by the crushing weight of feeling alone, gaslit, and doubted over what happened to them years ago. — J. Bernstein

Tubas, accordion, and Eduin Caz’s distinct vocals transformed Colombian pop star Camilo’s “Alaska” into a banda banger filled with pure desmadre — in a way only música mexicana greats Grupo Firme could. The cheeky wordplay throughout the song serves as an ode to drinking as they tease “me voy pa’ Alaska/Pero a las cantinas pa’ olvidarte.” (“I’ll go to Alaska/But a las cantinas to forget you.”) And the track works as a successful crossover between Camilo’s sound and Firme’s. —T.M.

It’s the intense specificity in Ingrid Andress’ music that makes her one of the best rising lyricists in country. “Yearbook” is the perfect example of that. Backed by simple production and the strums of a guitar, Andress sings about a couple that “stayed together just because they wrote forever on the inside of the cover by their names.”  Andress wrote this song after observing her own parents’ and other people’s parents’ relationships, channeling the taboo associated with getting divorced. “The last day they were on the same page was in the yearbook,” she croons. — T.M.

The Kentucky-bred rap star’s odes to his own freshly-minted fame can sometimes come with a patina of fratty awkwardness (see “Dua Lipa”), but the fluttering beat and ascending background vocals of “First Class” radiate a sense of dream-like wonder at his own success that’s hard to hate on: ”They say, ‘You a superstar now,'” damn, I guess I am.” Yep, buddy, we guess you are too, and the sound of patting oneself on the back rarely sounds this endearing. — J.D.

On “That That,” the lead single of the first album released under his own label, Psy fuses the renegade spirit of a cowboy with his classic showman chops. Fueled by a Mexican horn riff that chugs exuberantly on a dance beat produced by BTS’ Suga, the track is an endless celebration of liking whatever the hell you want. As a foil to Psy’s good vibes, the Bangtan producer-rapper offers a fiery tongue-twister verse that encourages “lightly slapping” your haters and ends with a cheeky reference to Nineties K-pop. Paired with winning choreography — featuring both shoot-out gestures and the “shoot” dance — the song took its place as the latest in Psy’s string of global hits. — M.H.K.

“Who’s the problem? We’re the problem!” vocalist Mike Patton cuts quickly and deep on Dead Cross’ stinging, furious “Reign of Error.” The metal-punk supergroup, which includes current and former members of Faith No More, Slayer, and the Locust, thrashes its way through an indictment of modern civilization’s failure to act on climate change in less than two minutes, blending caustic riffs with Patton’s and bassist-vocalist Justin Pearson’s invective. “We are a factory of turds, noxious gases, empty words,” Patton screeches, “We speak, we leak like a building covered in rust.” They even find space for a mosh breakdown before Patton sums up his disgust: “Welcome to the Reign of Error.” — K.G.

Ethel Cain’s “American Teenager” captures the disillusionment of growing up fooled by the specters of Christianity and patriotism. Depicting the murkiness of the so-called American dream, the song’s palette is a regional mish-mash, combining the triumphant Eighties rock of Bruce Springsteen, the Midwestern emo guitar of American Football, and the intimate pop melodies of Taylor Swift. Even though Cain’s lyrics are tinged with isolation, as she sings of crying on the bleachers and seeing caskets return from war, she uses it to propel her self-determination. “I’m doing what I want/And damn, I’m doing it well/For me,” she sings at the song’s end, revealing that if there’s one thing she believes in, it’s herself. — M.H.K.

The lead single from Gladie, the new Philly-based band from former Cayetana lead singer Augusta Koch, arrived this fall as the most thrilling three minutes of turbo-charged pop-punk garage rock from this past year. The song masks its vulnerable portrayal of cautious self-improvement in massive power chords and Koch’s whipsmart one liners: “I keep seeking advice,” she sings, “that I must have forgotten.” — J. Bernstein

It’s easy to take Guided by Voices’ triumph of a song “Alex Bell” as a straightforward tribute to late Big Star co-founders Alex Chilton and Chris Bell, but it’s only loosely that. Robert Pollard isn’t that literal. The first half of the song does have a certain Big Star-ness, a bombastic, Seventies rock aura that feels like driving a beater down an open road. At the end, though, Pollard veers us off that highway and down a lonely road — “I see you around every time there’s a ghost in town,” he intones, reminding us that memories are just that and good times aren’t forever.  — B.E.

(G)I-dle’s music seems to gain new layers of depth and meaning with each release. Just when we thought “Tomboy” couldn’t be topped, (G)I-dle dropped this groundbreaking track, based on the powerful lyrics and arrangement of the group’s leader, Soyeon. You might expect a song called “Nxde” (pronounced “nude”) to be a sexy, sultry one, but they redefine the word to emphasize the idea of being one’s truest, barest self. With a melody taken from the 1875 opera Carmen and references to Marilyn Monroe in the lyrics and the video, “Nxde” addresses the objectification of women in a way that’s rare for a K-pop girl group. — K.K.

On the second-highest–charting synth-pop song ever made about loving someone to the point of asphyxiation (after Berlin’s Giorgio Moroder–produced “Take My Breath Away,” of course), the Weeknd sings wistfully about his girlfriend asking him to strangle her gently. “You’re way too young to end your life,” he croons to her over an Italo-disco–influenced beat that owes a debt to Moroder. “Girl, I don’t wanna be the one who pays the price.” But since the dance-floor-ready beat, crafted with two of his “Blinding Lights” cowriters, throbs with lust, and the Weeknd makes it clear in the chorus that he’s into the same kink (“Take my breath away,” he sings, “and make it last forever, babe”), the song became an instant pop classic. — K.G.

The pressure was on for Nayeon’s solo debut as she became the first Twice member to go solo after seven years as a nine-piece act — but the group’s oldest member exceeded expectations and served vocals, rap, outfits, and choreo with “Pop!” With all the makings of a pop hit, Nayeon leaned into Twice’s classic bubblegum sound and made it her own. “You’re under my control,” she sings, summing up the chokehold she and Twice have on candy pop. — K.K.

Bill Callahan has one of the most striking voices in all of music, a conversational baritone that’s at once grave and reassuring, a perfect fit for the worn, graceful rusticity of his music. “Coyotes” is a devastating evocation of the space between love, freedom, and dread, sung from the perspective of a new father. The coyotes in the lyrics represent freedom. They also represent terror, which is about as American as it gets — a feeling as ancient the frontier and as modern as the dread that comes with letting your kid go to school every morning. — J.D.

The Jamaican reggae veteran Protoje teams up with rising star Lila Iké for an insinuating reggae groove that feels like it mixes up decades of soul tradition, updating the smooth flow of Seventies R&B and the romantic yearning of Eighties lovers’ rock. It takes off from “Children of the Night,” a 1972 slow-jam classic by legendary Philly soul stars the Stylistics. But it’s a totally modern vision of urban violence, with Lila Iké singing the hook, “Late at night/When everybody’s caught up in their dreams/That’s when the city screams.” It’s a deceptively gorgeous ode to dread. — R.S.

In the time since Blood Orange’s Dev Hynes released “Angel’s Pulse” in 2019, the musician has kept busy composing his own classical works, creating film and TV scores, collaborating with other artists on various remixes and features, and supporting Harry Styles for a string of shows in NYC. In the middle of that 15-night stint, Hynes made a welcome solo comeback with his Four Songs EP. The lead single “Jesus Freak Lighter” kicks off with a few seconds of fuzzy distortion, but what breaks through the haze soon after is a sharp, propulsive, free-fall of a track. “Falling, falling/Got carried away/Living in my head,” he sings, with distant and dreamlike vocals suspended over a swift drumbeat. His lyrics, tinged with a sense of yearning melancholy, leave a decent amount up to the listener’s interpretation, a buzzing undercurrent that flows through the remainder of the EP. — L.L.

One of only two songs from her album Familia where Camila Cabello sings completely in Spanish, “Hasta Los Dientes” expertly combines Latin pop, reggaetón, and Eighties disco. On the Ricky Reed-produced track, Cabello sings about an obsessive, jealous, overwhelming love over a danceable beat. “When you kiss me, I get depressed/Knowing you’ve kissed someone else just like this,” she intones, before being accompanied by Argentinian reggaetón singer María Becerra, whose voice fits here perfectly. —T.M.

Charli XCX abandons all humility on “Hot in It,” her dance banger collaboration with Tiësto that acts as an ode to her own hotness. You can almost hear the pout on her lips as she sings of casting aside a boy and interpolates *NSYNC — a throwback to the 2000s, when celebrity culture was defined by unrelenting vanity and Paris Hilton’s “That’s hot” was a collective mantra. Borrowing from that era’s DGAF energy, she launches into the power hook about “rocking it, dropping it/Shake my ass, no stopping it,” making for a pop anthem that inspires self-confidence. — M.H.K.

After telling the world that he was planning to retire from music this year, Daddy Yankee promised to release one last album called Legendaddy. The project represented a tough task: It had to be a grand finale that not only preserved the best of his 30-year career, but that also sounded fresh and modern. He achieved just that on “X Ultima Vez,” a nostalgic track featuring dreamy co-production from Tainy and verses from Bad Bunny. The song feels like Daddy Yankee is handing over the mantle to a new star as the two of them trade verses about what it means to say one last goodbye. — J.L.

“Part of the Band” first sweeps you up in its survey of contemporary culture — this morass of delivery apps, online fantasy, Xanax, cigarettes, and masturbation both physical and intellectual. Lines about “Vaccinista tote-bag chic baristas” are funny as hell, and as sharp as Jack Antonoff’s punchy production. But “Part of the Band” isn’t just meme-bait. There are shades of the Clash’s “(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais” here: cultural critique mixed with a songwriter’s excavations of his own hubris. Matty Healy is no longer the “all-night drug-prowling wolf” — he counts his days sober in the final lines — but he is wondering if he’s “just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke/Calling his ego imagination?” Like Joe Strummer, Healy has the brains and the bars, and enough humility to admit he’s not sure if he’s totally full of shit. — J. Blistein

Last year’s spangly hit “Todo De Ti” taught us that Rauw Alejandro isn’t afraid to go full-on disco-pop, but the Puerto Rican artist is still pretty committed to the reggaeton sounds he grew up on. He revisits them on “Punto 40,” a single from his latest album, Saturno, that quickly took over TikTok and also revived the magic of Baby Rasta Y Gringo’s Nineties hit “Tengo Una Punto 40.” Rauw’s version doesn’t just honor the original, it brings back both Baby Rasta and the song’s venerated producer, DJ Playero — a reminder of how reggaeton’s past is still informing its future, no matter how poppy the genre might get. — J.L.

As Florence Welch was beginning to think about her follow-up to 2018’s High as Hope, she became interested in the “dancing plague” that burned through Europe in the sixteenth century. “I started writing it in 2019, and very strangely, in the prescient ways that songs do, the ones that seem the most pandemic-y were written before the pandemic,” she said earlier this year. This Dance Fever track shares a name with the ancient European craze, and it’s full of feral musical abandon as it builds to the chorus. But it’s the bridge that steals the show, a swelling exhale where she bellows “You said that rock & roll is dead/But is that just because it has not been resurrected in your image?” — B.S.

“Two students that had each other back in a world against ’em” is the kind of opening line that promises to open up a whole universe, and Chicago rapper Saba delivers with this vivid reminiscence of love and friendship, set against a backdrop of dangerous subway rides, cheap candy, and basement hangs on busted couches. “Music’s our common interest, we ramblin’ about Kendrick and Kid Cudi/I’m tryna put her onto shit that she missin’/But she had everything, I mean everything I was listing,” he recalls over the elegiac track, offering a heart-rending reflection on those times when the right sounds and the right people come together to remake a scary world. — J.D.

Le Sserafim earned their spot on a list like this with their debut track, “Fearless,” but they really upped the ante with this wildly catchy single. “Anti-ti-ti-ti-fragile, fragile” is the refrain that’s been ringing in our ears all year (especially after the deepfaked-yet-iconic Drake version made the rounds on TikTok). “I really liked it as soon as I heard it,” member Huh Yunjin told Rolling Stone earlier this year. Same. — K.K.

Alvvays excel at perfectly sketched vignettes with each bittersweet jangle and subtle irony in its place — but on the best song from their third album, they let chaos rule. Babbling madly as the guitars race forward, singer-songwriter Molly Rankin unloads a lifetime of imaginary regrets from a wallflower who’s finally had enough: “Mine, should’ve been mine/Had I just said something/If I wasn’t polite.” “Maybe it’s a shy person talking to themselves in the mirror,” Rankin told RS, adding that the wild vocal was a first take: “Nothing I ever did after that had the same vibe, so we ended up keeping it, even though there’s some gibberish in there.” — S.V.L.

 After four long years, Big Bang finally returned to grace us with this soft-rock hit. It’s not a party song like some of Big Bang’s classic fan favorites — it actually couldn’t be further from that in terms of sound. But “Still Life” has most of the other elements that make up a great Big Bang song, from G-Dragon’s lyricism and soft-spoken voice to T.O.P’s heavier raps and Taeyang and Daesung’s vocals (which, while both strong, are easily differentiated). In the group’s first song as a foursome, the members reflect on their careers, which started in the 2000s, before K-pop became the global force it is today. Although Big Bang sing “Goodbye now to my beloved young days,” we’re surely nowhere near ready to bid them farewell. — K.K.

During the no-skips dance-party-for-end-times that is Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Cool It Down, “Blacktop” is the point when the lights seem to dim, the moody synths kick off, and everyone is ready to break open their hearts to confess their most horrible fears and deepest desires as Karen O’s voice hopefully pleads to “hold on ’til the love is gone.” When she’s the one asking, that’s easy. — L.T.

Cars are fixtures in the music of NCT 127, who use these sleek machines as symbols of futurism, masculinity, and technological progress befitting of their experimental electro-hip-hop production style. On their latest hit, “2 Baddies,” the Porsche is their muse, as the nine-member group brag about their success over rubbery bass lines and twinkling metallic percussion. Between fluid raps about “cutting the line” and charismatic outbursts — “Now you wanna ride these wheels?” leader Taeyong growls — the group reveals their determination to keep racing toward their goals on an “open road covered in white.” As Haechan and Doyoung sing in the climatic bridge: Their next destination is the moon, then infinity and beyond. — M.H.K.

On “Mil Y Una Noches,” the Spanish newcomer Guitarricadelafuente never goes where you’re expecting. His fragile voice spills out over a muted, slightly alien arrangement, and then the whole thing goes absolutely haywire, exploding with synths that sound like they’ve been struck by lightning, haunting vocal loops pitched up all the way, and ripples of distortion. The song, which opens Guitarricadelafuente’s excellent debut album, La Cantera, is just one example of the brilliant experimental thinking that blossomed when he teamed up with the Spanish producer Raül Refree. It also showcases just how promising Guitarricadelafuente’s career is. — J.L.

When her old hits “No” and “Me Too” went viral on Tiktok earlier this year, Meghan Trainor realized she didn’t need to reinvent the wheel to make good music. “Made You Look” led Trainor’s album Takin’ It Back by tapping into the pop-meets-doo-wop, self-empowering energy of her debut album, Title. TikTok ate “Made You Look” up, thanks to Trainor’s natural ability to connect with an audience on the app, and because of the song’s unforgettable lyrics and catchy production. —T.M.

Jin of BTS teamed up with Coldplay’s Chris Martin for “The Astronaut,” which was released as a message to fans ahead of Jin’s upcoming mandatory enlistment in South Korea’s military. The lyrics capture how BTS make their fans feel: “When I’m with you/There’s no one else/I get heaven to myself.” Fans will surely be listening to Jin’s strong vocals and heartfelt message in “The Astronaut” for years to come, especially while they miss Jin’s presence as he completes his service. — K.K.

When Maren Morris arrived in Nashville in the early 2010s, she was determined to break into the country-music mecca’s songwriting game. A decade later, her bet on herself has paid off beautifully, with songs like the resolute “The Bones” and the loose-limbed “My Church” giving much-needed butt-kicks to the genre’s establishment. The lead single from Morris’ luminous third album, Humble Quest, traces Morris’ journey from hungry young upstart to proven hitmaker, although this swaying showcase for Morris’ potent voice shows one thing hasn’t changed: She might be one of country’s biggest names, but she’s still “tryin’ to say somethin’ with meanin’/Somethin’ worth singin’ about” in her songwriting. — M.J. 

Residente didn’t hold back much this year (remember his savage J Balvin takedown?), but he brought a particular fury to “This Is Not America,” his track featuring the French-Cuban duo Ibeyi on backing vocals. In the lyrics, the longtime Puerto Rican provocateur blasts U.S. imperialism, exploitation, and commercial greed while challenging what’s represented by the very word “America” — an arrogant name that he’s long felt erases the rest of the hemisphere. “America is not just U.S.A., papa, this extends from Tierra del Fuego to Canada,” he raps. An intense video he released with the song drives his message home with blunt force. — J.L.

“Girls” captured Aespa‘s signature sound with its strong bass and synth sound, blending hip-hop with touches of hyper-pop and EDM. With a music video whose sets and costumes were more reminiscent of a high-budget blockbuster film, the Korean group unveiled more of their storytelling — this time, the girls and their digital avatars are continuing with their pursuit of defeating the evil Black Mamba. You don’t need to know that to enjoy a hit as catchy as this one, though. “Bow down” to these girls. — K.K.

Think the world has run out of different ways for post-punk bands to sound? Well, you’re wrong. Because here comes an Irish version of Joy Division. “Jackie Down the Line” is some ominous stuff. “Come on down to Sally’s boneyard/See her spirit in decline,” singer Grian Chatten invites. Yet they shake through the darkness with a sexy beat, some tightly-coiled guitar heat, and even some Pavement-y “sha-la-la” backing vocals. Cryptic, mordant, and lyrical — James Joyce and Ian Curtis would both be proud. — J.D.

Joyce Wrice‘s collaborations with Kaytranada were a highlight of her 2021 debut album, Overgrown. This year, she wisely teamed up once again with the modern-day super-producer to create the ideal introduction to her latest EP, Motive. On “Iced Tea,” Wrice flexes her confidence while delivering an empowering message. Go ahead and dance your way to liberation while her soothing vocals draw you in. Just remember who told you first when you hear “Iced Tea” mixed in with some of your favorite dance records of all time next year. — D.G.

Meg Remy has been turning feminist critiques and anti-capitalist broadsides into propulsive pop music for years. So it’s no big surprise that she came up with an irresistible dance-pop anthem about the Covid-era real-estate bubble. On “So Typically Now” Remy breathily sounds off on loans, condos, and abandoning Brooklyn in favor of roomier upstate locales, tongue at least somewhat in cheek, it would seem. Her catchy delivery and the ferocious synth groove render the song darkly seductive, like a not-quite-affordable house beckoning you despite your better judgment. — C.H.

Rule of thumb: Never ignore a beloved artist’s deluxe-edition deep cuts. Months after releasing her album Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land, Marina (formerly Marina and the Diamonds) delivered “Pink Convertible,” a sonically dreamy, lyrically dystopic pop song about a not-so-far-away future where rich people “drive in the sunshine” and ignore “how fucked up our planet” is. Sound familiar? The cult-pop princess delivers that sentiment with uncanny, unsettling power. —T.M.

Sabrina Carpenter knew she had to write a song like “Because I Liked a Boy.” Carpenter sings about the extreme judgment and name-calling she faced from the public after she dated a guy with a famous ex: “Now I’m a homewrecker, I’m a slut/I got death threats fillin’ up semi-trucks/Tell me who I am, guess I don’t have a choice,” she sings on the ballad-turned-banger, co-written with JP Saxe and Julia Michaels. Carpenter naturally taps into a vulnerability and brutal honesty that showcase her maturity. —T.M.

“Would’ve,” “could’ve,” and “should’ve” are normally the three of the most irritating words in English, but Taylor Swift adds nuance to them on this Midnights bonus track, as she parses how a teenage romance with a much older man (possibly the same guitar-face dude from “Dear John”) has affected her personal identity as an adult. Over a lightly new-wavey track she wrote with the National’s Aaron Dessner, she sings, “Lord, you made me feel important/And then you tried to erase us.” Even though she didn’t let the weight of that relationship break her, she’s still making sense of who the other Taylor who didn’t date that guy might have been. On the track’s most cutting line, she sings, “Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first.” — K.G.

There’s something oddly comforting about the fact that Gorillaz unveiled one of 2022’s most sublime existential party anthems 21 years after the release of their iconic debut. The lead single off the ever-shifting collective’s eighth album, “Cracker Island” benefits from Damon Albarn’s decision to invite Thundercat into the fold. His gloriously propulsive bass line provides the backbone for all the funk delights that follow — glistening hi-hats, wah-wah guitars, irresistible call-and-response choruses. “Where the truth was auto-tuned,” muses Albarn’s distorted vocal line, as the world’s most endearing virtual band revels in sweltering dancefloor fever. — E.L.

When Flo Milli strutted onto our screens recreating an infamous Flavor of Love scene as Tiffany “New York” Pollard a year ago, we learned she could bring a little drama — but “Conceited” is where she showed she could translate those theatrics to into a monster of a song. Flo feels like a million different people in just two verses here, playing with her delivery of razor-sharp barbs in all the right ways. “You can talk like this when you’re really that bitch,” she says. Agreed. — M.C. 

K-pop never gets old because groups are always experimenting with new sounds and genres, and Stray Kids’ “Maniac” deserves recognition for the way it pushes that envelope. The group’s sixth EP, Oddinary, is all about “odd” people breaking “ordinary” social norms; this song’s harsh, twitchy electronic production makes that theme real. Felix’s repeated “Maniac” in the chorus will have you “spinning, going crazy,” as intended. — K.K.

Pillbox Patti, the artistic guise of country songwriter Nicolette Hayford, sings about rural America like any artist narrating the bleakest aspects of street life. Driven by a menacing bassline and swampy dobro, “Eat Pray Drugs” is a chilling look at the trifecta of opioids — food, religion, narcotics — in small towns where hope doesn’t come in large supply. Pillbox Patti’s characters roll up to church with glazed-over eyes, watch friends get hooked on the harder stuff, and meanwhile the town video store’s still stocking VHS tapes like it’s 1988. “Only three things to do ‘round here/Ain’t a honey hole or a movie theater,” she sings, delivering her lines in a coolly dispassionate manner that’s equally riveting and unsettling. — J.F.

Mikaela Straus described the explosive finale to Hold on Baby best when she referred to it as her “big-girl song.” It’s a cathartic stunner — with the chorus “Drive the car right off the cliff and let us dive” — that was made possible by the late Foo Fighters drummer Taylor Hawkins, who contributed to the track shortly before his death last year. “Taylor wasn’t only down to play on the song, but he was also the most encouraging and wonderful presence during that session,” Straus said. “I started sobbing at one point and Mark [Ronson] couldn’t stop smiling. I have never felt so lucky. Taylor made this song what it is.” — A.M.

2022 was quite a year for girl groups in K-pop. IVE, although they officially debuted in December of 2021, had a first year full of hits, and choosing between “Eleven,” “Love Dive,” and “After Like” was a struggle. Three iconic bops stood before us; “After Like” made it out on top. From its disco-pop beat to the Gloria Gaynor sample to the dance break to the fireworks scene in the music video, “After Like” gets better and better with each listen. — K.K.

Syd’s most far-reaching achievement this year may have been her writing and production contributions to Beyoncé’s “Plastic Off the Sofa,” but the songs she kept for herself deserve acclaim too. “Right Track,” accompanied by the uber-creative Smino, is the apex of them. A highlight of Syd’s R&B stunner Broken Hearts Club, an album chronicling the rise and fall of an immense courtship, the song captures the early thrill of the talking-stage — before the titles, the troubles, and even the intimacy. “Maybe you should stay the night,” Syd lilts. “Promise it’ll change your life.” — M.C.

If you crank the volume loud enough when “Coming Correct is Cheaper” starts, you can hear the “hoo” and “yeah” samples that run through Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock’s “It Takes Two” — which they sampled from Lyn Collins’ “Think (About It)” — and the messages of both songs are kind of the hidden keys to Soul Glo’s stellar Diaspora Problems track. The group’s frontman, Pierce Jordan, screams, “I try to listen the way I want to be listened to” until heavy-metal guitar comes crashing in. In three minutes, he lambastes capitalism, racism, and political sleight of hand over infectious Suicidal Tendencies–like grooves: “The true consumption is that of the rich/And I don’t mean on no trendy left shit.” Soul Glo’s message? Listen up and show respect — it takes two to make a thing go right. — K.G.