These Are 2024’s Songs of the Summer

The perfect song of the summer insists on being blasted at full volume on a road trip to anywhere, and no one understands that better than Chappell Roan. On her hit single “Good Luck, Babe!,” the singer may be the “fool” she writes about when she sings, “With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof,” but there is absolutely nothing foolish about writing a biting kiss-off to an ex who refuses to own their sexuality and watching it soundtrack the pop renaissance of summer 2024. In fact, there may not be anything more logical than screaming “I told you so” to an ex as the marching beat and twirling synths of “Good Luck, Babe!” flood your car speakers. —M.G.

Country music dropped some undeniable bangers this summer — Lainey Wilson’s “Hang Tight Honey” and Shaboozey’s “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” are knockouts — but few have been as inescapable as Post Malone’s collab with Morgan Wallen. The Nashville newbie’s breakup song, off his upcoming F-1 Trillion album, basically says, “Hell, yeah, I’ve been spiraling, but it’s not just my own doing” — and then cues up a monster chorus. Sure, “I Had Some Help” has a few hints of Kip Moore’s 2012 rocker “Beer Money” in its DNA (that intro!), but Malone and Wallen’s swerving vocals makes it distinctly their own. Passing the blame has never sounded so fun. —J.H.

Because all that was once cringe becomes cool in time, the revival of “stomp clap hey” music is upon us. Its new irresistible avatar is Shaboozey, who took the countryfied hip-hop torch from “Old Town Road”-era Lil Nas X and galloped full speed toward this Number One hoedown. Like most of his latest album, Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going, “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” dispenses with the trap beats of his last record, and resurrects J-Kwon’s rowdy 2004 club hit “Tipsy” — and gets you just as buzzed. Twanging guitar, a slurred fiddle, double shots of Jack Daniel’s, and women dancing on tables ensure you’ll never make it to that other party downtown. Which is probably just as well: You’ve got everything you need for summer’s ultimate rager right here.  —M.K

When we were hanging with Cardi B this spring for her June Rolling Stone cover, she told us the artist she was most obsessed with was another New Yorker, rapper-crooner-producer Cash Cobain. At the time, Cobain’s song “Fisherrr” was sweeping the drill scene. It’s not typical drill, though, as Cobain would tell you it’s sexy drill, in which he takes the staccato flows and hi-hats typically reserved for gang anthems and flips them with R&B elements, lustful longing, and Auto-Tuned rap-singing. The word fisherrr is actually Cobain and his pal Bay Swag saying “For sure.” Weeks after bumping “Fisherrr” on Instagram, Cardi B was captured singing and dancing to it at a club. Then came a remix with — naturally — Ice Spice. While the song is only a modest hit so far, “Fisherrr” has been almost inescapable on hip-hop stations like Philadelphia’s influential Power 99. It’s fisherr the song of a young, lit, Slizzy summer. —M.C.

FloyyMenor and Cris MJ’s lo-fi reggaeton hit has been everywhere this summer. The track found an audience on TikTok first and then started winding up the charts at the start of the year. Part of its appeal lies in its stars: FloyyMenor was a mysterious, hard-to-pin-down Chilean artist whose face and identity had been hidden from the internet before he teamed up with fellow Chilean and rising star Cris MJ. Now that the song has blown up, it’s spent the last few months ka-booming out of cars and shadowy clubs across the globe. —J.L.

GloRilla has been known to use the recording-studio booth as her pulpit — sneaking benedictions into her hits “Tomorrow 2” and “Yeah Glo.” But on “TGIF,” she pivots to a prophecy, forecasting the weather for every summer Friday on the 2024 calendar:  “It’s 7 p.m. Friday/It’s 95 degrees.” The urgent strings and horns of Chaii Beats’ production evoke a breaking-news weather report. The rest of the song provides the perfect recipe for a night out for a single woman in hot weather: lightly dressed, no relationship commitments, stocked up on libations, and equipped with an abundance of disposable income. It’s truly the song of the summer, as both an accurate description of climate change (ask Rep. Ayanna Pressley, who quoted the song during a House committee meeting) and fantastic scene-setting for a great carefree night with friends. —E.B.

“Espresso” was still riding high when Sabrina Carpenter delivered an arguably even better song of the summer candidate, with “Please Please Please.” It’s a sweet, breezy yacht ride back to 1979 from an artist who was born in 1999 — from the ELO synths to the soft-rock groove to roller-boogie hand claps to the country-pop lilt in Carpenter’s voice. Jack Antonoff, who produced the track with a loving light touch, compared her performance to Dolly Parton and Olivia Newton-John. Updating all that with a Taylor Swiftian confessional directness, clever lines like “I heard that you’re an actor, so act like a stand-up guy,” and deft deployment of the meme-ready entreaty “I beg you, don’t embarrass me, motherfucker,” Carpenter makes her beautifully turned retro-pop escapism feel modern and fresh. —J.D.

This summer pretty much belongs to Chappell Roan, but there’s one of her many sleeper hits that stands out above the rest. “Hot to Go!” can be heard everywhere from gay clubs to baseball games to children’s birthday parties, with its cheer-inspired chorus and matching dance moves becoming impossible to not memorize. With its Eighties-inspired production and Roan’s cheeky delivery of her flirty affectations, it’s also just a great pop song, catchy and fun without ever growing annoying. At this rate, “Hot to Go!” is destined to become a staple at public events for years to come, joining the ranks of “YMCA” and “Sweet Caroline.” —B.S.

It’s been a year since former substitute teacher, current dance-punk phenomenon, and Beatles cosplayer the Dare (Harrison Patrick Smith) enthralled downtown New York’s sceniest twentysomethings with “Girls.” Now, he’s launched the rollout for his debut album with “Perfume.” With its rave-ready bass line, yowling ad-libs, and frenzied guitars, “Perfume” is perfectly primed for any sticky body-to-body-packed function, much like the infamous Freakquencies parties he throws at clubs around town. Mention the Dare and you’ll be met with a Rolodex of polarizing, recurring descriptors: “indie sleaze,” nostalgia for the aughts, James Murphy comparisons, scoffs about NYC’s “Dimes Square” neighborhood. In any case, the Dare has solidified himself as the soundtrack to a massive sector of debaucherous New York nightlife this summer. As Charli XCX sang about the Dare on their Brat collab, “Guess”: “I think he’s with it.” —L.L.

Did you know that there’s a tunnel under “Bad and Boujee”? Lana Del Rey and Quavo join forces for “Tough,” a sliver of country-trap Americana celebrating red dirt and blue collars. It’s a perfect American portrait for a summer when this here U.S. of A. seems to keep redefining the Del Reyan concept of Fucking Up Big-Time. Both stars flex with a great video where they play with guitars and shotguns down on the farm. Quavo gets real about grief, mourning the still-raw loss of his Migos comrade and nephew, Takeoff. But it’s a song about how surviving adversity makes you as hard as “nickel-wound strings on your good ol’ Gibson guitar.” — R.S.

Bring back the dollar sign … KE$HA is back. What better way for Kesha to celebrate her musical independence (and litigious freedom) than reconnecting with the subversive, cheesy-naughty energy that made her a radio staple in the early 2010s? Without falling into antiquated sounds and lyrical tropes, Kesha found an impressive way to channel “TiK ToK” and “We R Who We R” during the summer of Charli XCX’s Brat. Summer 2024 is about unrestrained fun and poor decisions, and with “Joyride,” Kesha delivers the perfect soundtrack thanks to lyrics like “Rev my engine till you make it purr” and “You want kids? Well, I am Mother.” After a heavy album like last year’s Gag Order, “Joyride” feels fresh and exciting, and welcomes back the messy, sexy, dirty Kesha that we, the pop stans, truly missed. We’re glad you’re back, KE$HA. —T.M.

Everyone gravitates to their own song of the summer, whether it’s about espresso or perfume or being so attractive you compare yourself to a steamy container of takeout. My own pick, MJ Lenderman’s “She’s Leaving You,” is about a cheating husband having a midlife crisis. To each their own! The Asheville musician and Wednesday guitarist delivers a crunchy, hypnotic riff reminiscent of early Car Seat Headrest, alongside a refrain that will linger in your brain for days. And like Phoebe Bridgers’ “Moon Song,” it contains a sarcastic reference to Eric Clapton — a key ingredient if you’re looking to write a great indie rock song in the 2020s. —A.M.

I read something once that proposed the idea of framing time in terms of summers, rather than years. Thinking about having, for example, four summers of your twenties left — instead of four years — makes the span of time seem so much more fragile, more fleeting. Billie Eilish encapsulates this exact feeling on “Birds of a Feather,” the impassioned fan-favorite from her third studio album, Hit Me Hard and Soft. “Can’t change the weather, might not be forever/But if it’s forever, it’s even better,” she sings. Eilish makes every moment count. There’s not a single note wasted or a lyric delivered without the full catharsis of all-consuming love. Time, she recognizes, passes just as quickly when you’re watching sand drain into the bottom of an hourglass as it does when you’re sinking your feet into those same grains at the beach. It’s better spent living and loving. —L.P.

Even under cloudless skies and a blazing sun, there’s always room for some ruminative melancholy — “the other side of summer,” as Elvis Costello once called it. “Winter was a drag,” Zach Bryan sings on the appropriately gritty half-love-song “Sandpaper,” over a beat borrowed from Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m on Fire,” “Spring was a friend/I’ll love you ‘til summer comes back again.” Then Springsteen himself arrives to share the vocals, with a delivery that carries the full weight of amassed decades, and the song deepens into a conversation between a wearier older man and his younger counterpart. “They’ve been trying to smooth me out/For 27 seasons now,” they each sing — and you get the sense that even after 70-something seasons, it didn’t work. —B.H.