Best Music of 2025: Rolling Stone Staff Picks

You never know what you’ll find out if you ask someone who works at Rolling Stone what they’ve been listening to lately. Our team enjoys music of all kinds, from the biggest blockbuster releases in pop, country, reggaeton, hip-hop, R&B, rock, and more to more personal picks that just happen to define someone’s entire year. It’s all here on display in this annual post, where Rolling Stone staffers from across departments share their choices for the 10 best albums released in 2025. Give it a read, and you just might discover a new favorite. (As always, these lists reflect staffers’ individual tastes in music, in all their variety; for Rolling Stone‘s official list of the year’s 100 best albums, go here.)

Yaasmiyn Alam, Executive Assistant

Hearing Bad Bunny‘s Debí Tirar Más Fotos for the first time was such a joyous cultural experience, making it my favorite of 2025 by far. Released in January on the eve of Día de los Reyes (Three Kings Day), this album served as the quintessential year-long soundtrack for celebrating with friends and loved ones, while the title track “DtMF” offers a sincere reminder (and warning) that these special moments are fleeting, so let’s try our best to be present, appreciate, and capture them while they’re still here. Several of the albums I gravitated toward explored themes of redefining self-identity amidst turbulent life changes. Lady Gaga‘s Mayhem highlighted her return to the Fame Monster-era sound her Little Monsters had been craving. Lorde’s Virgin, Rosalía’s Lux, Lily Allen’s West End Girl, Haim’s I Quit, and Sombr’s I Barely Knew Her all processed self-transformations and relationship grief in unique ways that gifted us with some of the most impressive albums of the year. (Honorable mention: So did Teyana Taylor’s Escape Room.)

Jonathan Bernstein, Senior Research Editor

This year I loved hiding in the crevices and cracks of my favorite albums, relishing in the beauty of their small moments: Fust turning a song named after a type of table (“Gateleg”) into one of the year’s most soothing anthems; the utter power of the quiet-verse, loud-chorus dynamics in Avery Tucker’s “Big Drops”; the groove Liz Vice’s rhythm section locks into during “The Other Side”; the way Olivia Ellen Lloyd sings the words “I will go see live loud music”; the perfect pop chorus in “Fun at Parties,” Caroline Spence’s mea culpa about bumming people out over cocktail chatter. These records made me laugh, snicker, smile, relax, and rejoice just as they challenged me to think, reflect, and feel. “I just want music in my life,” as Florist, whose 2025 masterpiece Jellywish just as easily could have made this list, put it this year. “I just want us to sing along.”

Jon Blistein, Staff Writer

As a challenge in personal reflection and critical thinking, I always at least try to look for some kind of connective tissue in these picks. Anything that might explain, beyond mere taste, why these particular records spoke to me this particular year. I don’t know if I’ve got that in me this time around. In lieu, I’d like to take this opportunity to publicly thank my beautiful wife for getting me to listen to the Cameron Winter and Oklou records, and share a few lines from Ryan Davis and the Roadhouse Band’s “Walden Pawn” that have provided some kind of comfort/perspective/guidance for me in 2025: “They say it’s/Something like a miracle when Dionysus hits the urinal/Your life, my life, and all the lonely others anywhere near it swirl/When what’s left in my wallet’s gone, I’ll be down at Walden Pawn/Waiting on my assignment from the spirit world.”

Admittedly, I didn’t do my best at album exploration this year. I would power through listening to a project on new music Friday at the same pace I scroll through my social media feeds.These 10 were the albums that survived this year’s music marathon. All of them stayed in rotation, either because I needed to immerse myself in them for interviews or because I couldn’t put them down (thank you, Kelela, for being both). Monaleo provided some of the most refreshing rap storytelling with what I’d say is a concept album about the circle of life. Chance the Rapper and Cardi B came back with power listens that differ from what made me initially fall in love with them in the 2010s, but still kept my attention. I introduced myself to Turnstile (thank God!) and familiarized myself with Hayley Williams’ work outside of Paramore, thanks to her excellent entry into the 2025 listening space. But it was Olivia Dean who crash-landed into my ears in September. I had been keeping her close ever since she released 2023’s Messy, and she left me breadcrumbs of amazing tunes with ”Nice To Each Other” and “Man I Need” before giving me the whole loaf that is The Art of Loving. 2025 was the year of music attention deficit for me, but I’d rather that be the case than being spoonfed only 2 to 3 excellent albums.

Preezy Brown, Staff Writer (Vibe)

The first year of a new quarter-century, 2025 gave the world a chance to reflect on the past while celebrating the present and future of music. Household names like Taylor Swift, Bad Bunny, and Morgan Wallen made their presence known with seismic, chart-topping releases, while fresher faces like Sabrina Carpenter and Stray Kids continued to captivate listeners and audiences, proving their staying power. Despite hip-hop’s waning chart performance during the latter part of the year, the genre produced a handful of the defining releases of 2025. Albums by Kendrick Lamar, Clipse, Tyler, the Creator, and other acts paired commercial success with critical acclaim, while anticipated efforts from Playboi Carti and Cardi B ended lengthy delays for two of the most coveted albums of the decade. Narratives aside, the past 12 months were filled with songs and albums across all genres that found a place in the hearts and minds of the public — a win in any year.

Jon Dolan, Contributing Editor

Bob Mould has been putting out records since the Eighties and he’s never sounded more in command. Jeff Tweedy made a triple album that felt too short. Mexican singer-songwriter Silvana Estrada gave us Joni Mitchell levels of beauty and sadness. Hayley Williams carried her mother’s mother’s torment right back to 1994. Wet Leg had jagged one-liners as good as their jagged songs. Snocaps and Wednesday kept the vaunted tradition of searing Southern jangle rolling. Lifeguard did the same for the equally glorious lineage of wide-eyed noise-punk violence. Good Flying Birds carved out their own little hunk of Midwestern guitar heaven. Friendship did MFA folk-rock poetry as good as it gets. 

Brenna Ehrlich, Chief Research Editor

It was a great year for albums that made me feel things — whether it was melancholy, scared, nostalgic, or just, simply, angry. Turnstile may have been the big winners of 2025 (with Grammy nods in basically every category), but lesser-lauded bands like Militarie Gun and Deafheaven deserve their shine (the latter put out possibly their best album yet). I also loved Ethel Cain’s perfectly perverted Perverts, Jasmine.4.T’s gorgeous debut, and a dose of mythical sweetness from both Japanese Breakfast and Jethro Tull. Plus, of course, we have our annual shot of GBV.

Viviane Feldman, Senior Producer

My year in music sizzled with heat from around the globe, with past inspiration and future sounds blending to make a playlist that propels me through space and time. Bad Bunny set the tone in January with DTMF, continuing to stir up both nostalgia and reverence for Puerto Rico and the diaspora as the summer heat rolled in. I was also excited about the women in music this year. Addison Rae, Lorde, FKA Twigs, and Tate McRae sent love letters from both the dance floor and the bathroom floor. Little Simz and Obongjayar  took their lyrical powers to new heights, flying on top of Afro-U.K. beats. I danced hard to Tyler’s Don’t Tap the Glass and Joey Valence and Brae’s HYPERYOUTH — each album holding up the torch of Nineties hip-hop with wild energy. Even Clipse’s major return to the spotlight and stage provided more of that old-school and audacious grit. Rosalía closed out my musical year with the inspiring, surprising, and world-building album LUX. 2025 made it clear to me again how music can ground me in my past while opening doors to somewhere new.

Maya Georgi, Associate Editor

For me, 2025 was the year of Bad Bunny — until Hayley Williams turned my world upside down with her third solo album. Throughout the year, I kept returning to the nostalgic, homegrown sounds of the boldly Puerto Rican Debí Tirar Más Fotos, only letting Karol G’s Colombian rhythms and Lorde’s synth-pop return pierce my Benito bubble. And then, in the fall, I was consumed by Williams’ fiercely independent lyrics and rock-inspired growl. Her existential scream into the void on “Glum” (“Does anyone know if this is normal?”) pretty much sums up my chaotic yet rewarding year. I also want to give a quick shout-out to a few albums I didn’t get to write about this year: Motion City Soundtrack put out their first album in 10 years and knocked it out of the park, María Zardoya as Not for Radio created boundless eddies with her solo debut, and Momma painted my summer cerulean, like it was a Nineties rom-com.

Loulou Ghelichkhani, Event Production Manager

In a year crowded with albums elbowing for attention, nothing lodged itself deeper into my bloodstream than 22:22 by Polo & Pan, a shimmering splice of electronic and organic dance currents, threaded with familiar ghosts (Metronomy, Beth Ditto, Pawpaw Rod) that flicker in and out like transmissions from a more stylish little orbit. Close behind is Love Made Trees by Loaded Honey, a record so tender and slow-blushing it feels like someone dimmed the world just to let you feel your own pulse. Then come Equus Caballus from Men I Trust and Chain Yer Dragon by Goose, two albums humming with earned confidence that doesn’t need to announce itself. Earthstar Mountain by Hannah Cohen drifts in like a spell whispered under a tree, while Boleros Psicodélicos from Adrian Quesada and Divinations by Oracle Sisters unspool with a coherent, psychedelic glamour. Alfredo 2 by Freddie Gibbs and the Alchemist is the year’s most seamless hip-hop glide, old-school grit ironed perfectly into modern heat, while Michelangelo Dying by Cate Le Bon is so exquisitely crafted it feels less written than slowly unearthed, blooming with the eerie grace of a dahlia on an uncanny summer night. And though not new, the Black and Blue (2025 Mix) by the Rolling Stones barged its way back into my rotation; some obsessions, like certain bands and certain years, refuse to stay politely in the past.

Two honorable mentions: Tunde Adebimpe’s new solo record, Thee Black Boltz, delivers “Somebody New,” an infectiously good single I ended up playing on loop through airport after airport, one of those songs that makes even a delayed connection feel somewhat pleasant. And Rose City Band’s Sol y Sombra quietly became my unofficial drive-time gospel this year, all JJ Cale ease and those honeyed, unhurried guitar tones that glide with a faint Lou Reed New Sensations swagger. They’re too good to ignore.

Kory Grow, Senior Writer

A year like no other, my 2025 in music was filled with joyous arias and madrigals of melancholy. Rosalía’s orchestral fantasias filled me with light (as did the two other LPs with well-lit titles above). I loved the pastel swirls of sound Maria Somerville concocted within the confines of dream pop, as well as Steve Von Till’s negative image of the genre (nightmare folk?). Agriculture proved the avant-garde still thrives in black metal, and “classical” pianist Marc-André Hamelin found sounds in John Cage’s and Frank Zappa’s compositions and twisted them in new ways. Jens Lekman put out the funniest album of the year (“A Tuxedo Sewn for Two” is the best Morrissey and the E Street Band parody ever to cite The Human Centipede and Aristophanes in the same breath). Ozzy Osbourne and Black Sabbath’s farewell concert was my most watched (and listened-to) livestream while feeding a newborn, making it even harder to say goodbye to him. Yet here we are, with a helluva great soundtrack to ring in the year ahead.

Julia Hardie, Branded Social Content Manager

By no surprise, Taylor Swift said something during her Life of a Showgirl release week that instantly lodged itself in my brain: that artists are mirrors, and the way we see ourselves in their work shifts as our own lives do. I’ve felt that with her for over a decade now, moving through her eras as I moved through mine, and Showgirl was no exception. It met me right where I was this year. Maybe that’s why my Spotify Wrapped insists my listening age is 19. I spent 2025 chasing newness, trying to keep my finger on the pulse, and the year rewarded me with two of my favorite discoveries, Olivia Dean and Audrey Hobert, artists who felt instantly familiar and rounded out the pop sound I’m so drawn to. Standing alongside some of my forever staples, Sabrina, Reneé, and Selena, this year’s top albums felt less like a list and more like a snapshot of the moments and sounds that shaped my year.

Mitch Herskowitz, Music Label Partnerships

Soulful English artists continue to dominate my listening. Fave tour: Lady Gaga. Fave song: “The Rest of Me,” Michael Kiwanuka 

Christian Hoard, Executive Music Editor

A lot of smart people have said a lot of smart things about these albums, so just a few quick points: 2025 was a really good, maybe great, year for indie rock; Gaga and Clipse both made comeback records that felt blessedly fresh; CMAT deserves to be more famous. A special shout-out to my most-played song of the year, Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band’s “New Threats From the Soul,” one of music’s great taking-stock-of-your-life anthems. My only qualm is that, at nine minutes, it feels too short.

Joseph Hudak, Senior Music Editor

The exemplary albums that Eric Church and Tyler Childers released this year don’t need any further praise, so I’m intentionally leaving them off this list, but rest assured, I played the heck out of them. That said, Brian Dunne’s seafood daydream Clams Casino lapped both in my listening history. Dunne is a member of the humor-forward band Fantastic Cat, but on his fifth solo album, he tugged at the heart strings while struggling to keep his grip on the purse strings. It’s a commentary on that cap-A buzzword, Affordability, and a reminder to enjoy every appetizer. 

The Hold Steady frontman Craig Finn sang about food, too, in one of my favorite songs this year, “Bethany,” off his solo album Always Been. I’ll never snack on “little pastries” again without thinking of the priesthood. Elsewhere, Dillon Warnek proved why he’s still my favorite Nashville songwriter, Vandoliers delivered a courageous, raucous rebirth, Carter Faith dropped the country debut of the year, and Jonny Fritz made his long-awaited return to music after becoming “L.A.’s premier used house salesman.” Fritz’s partner-in-crime, Josh Hedley, reminded us why Western swing rules, Jake Worthington established himself as a titan of twang, and Jonathan Terrell redefined “Texas country” with the wildly adventurous Dove (“Can I get a soft pack of reds?”). Finally, I just have to see Lady Gaga on tour next year.

Jeff Ihaza, Senior Music Editor

For me, this year was all about up-and-coming talent. Where familiar mainstream voices dropped somewhat lackluster releases, younger acts released what felt like career-defining projects. From Jim Legxacy’s stellar Black British Music to the breakout year for Geese’s Cameron Winter, there was no shortage of unfamiliar names breaking through the algorithmic noise with albums that felt like the beginning of a major shift. More than anything, the music I was most drawn to this year was music that gave me a sense of hope for the future.

Miles Klee, Staff Writer

From the moment it dropped, No Joy’s Bugland was the album of 2025 for me. A formidable contender for best shoegaze record of this decade, it reveals Jasamine White-Gluz’s songwriting to be as surprising, muscular, and immersive as ever (and the live show rips, by the way). Elsewhere, I got hooked on scuzzy psychedelia from GOON and New Candys, and fell for the daydreamy, lighter-than-air hooks of Sedona and Sarah Klang. Mallrat and Pearly Drops both returned with albums of guitar-inflected indietronica that are impossible to categorize and seem recovered from some even stranger future era, while Great Grandpa’s latest effort scratches that nostalgic itch for Nineties rock. Finally, it was a pleasure to hear Lust For Youth and Croatian Amor teaming up for a suite of icy Eurobeat tracks — and, of course, every release from pop royalty Marina will find a spot on my best-of-year list. 

Brandon Kosikov, Senior Director, Marketing & Strategy

Olivia Dean and Parcels on repeat in 2025. Had the chance to see both live this year — Olivia opened up for Sam Fender at London Stadium and Parcels at Forest Hills Stadium (the best venue there is). I was stoked to see Olivia in London — she wowed. And while I knew of Sam Fender, I admittedly didn’t know much of his music before the concert (which showed, as I was the only person out of 80,000 people who wasn’t screaming every word to every song). Needless to say, Sam and that entire concert experience blew me away. Parcels had me feeling great all year. And Cassia was also new to me — shoutout our talent team for booking this trio on our Future of Music U.K. lineup. Like Parcels, this indie-pop band is a killer listen and their music just puts you in a good mood.

Sacha Lecca, Deputy Photo Editor

There’ve been such great releases this year that have held my attention, but my favorite 10 were also my fave companions generally while I was in motion — during travel or a work commute, and responsible for more than a few missed subway stops.

Emily Lewis, Associate Account Manager

My 2025 top 10 albums reminded me: Icons stay iconic, the pop girls reign supreme, and the deluxe cuts might just be the real masterpiece. Lady Gaga’s presence in 2025 was undeniable; Mayhem reignited bold, punchy pop and remained on constant loop in my headphones. Deadbeat proved Tame Impala has perfected evolving while maintaining identity, creating psych-pop classics. Bon Iver and Dijon delivered master classes in blending production with transcendent story telling. Kaytranada and Fred Again.. kept club culture and electronic creativity front and center on their 2025 releases. SZA and Tate McRae’s deluxe albums redefined already iconic eras, strengthening their presence even further. Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber reminded us why they’re pop icons — and as someone who was raised on Hannah Montana and My World by Justin Bieber, I couldn’t be more thrilled. Looking forward to discovering the music that will define my 2026.

Julyssa Lopez, Deputy Music Editor

2025 felt like a tough, emotional year for everyone, but my favorite albums somehow smoothed out the roughest parts. Japanese Breakfast and Wednesday offered models for processing grief and hardship on their aching records, while other artists — like Silvana Estrada and Bad Bunny — just reminded us to stay present and appreciate what’s in front of us. Then there were acts, Rosalía and the Mars Volta among them, that offered solace just through showing stunning creativity and endless collaboration. And then people like Maria Zardoya gave us simple beauty by getting us out in nature and encouraging everyone to see the wonder all around. 

Griffin Lotz, Deputy Photo Editor

2025 had no shortage of quality new releases, with many of my favorite artists putting out stellar albums, some even reinventing themselves in the process. Cameron Winter released the hauntingly beautiful Heavy Metal at the very end of last year, and then his band Geese released my favorite album of the year, with Getting Killed. Water From Your Eyes put out It’s a Beautiful Place, and Nate Amos snuck in Holo Boy, his follow-up to This Is Lorelei’s 2024 Box for Buddy, Box for Star, just under the wire. King Gizzard tried something new (again) by recording with an orchestra on Phantom Island, and Maruja combined brutally heavy riffs with a smooth saxophone for the powerful offering that is Pain to Power. Turnstile and Militarie Gun rocked my summer and fall with Never Enough and God Save the Gun, respectively. Model/Actriz’s Pirouette and Shame’s Cutthroat. These were the albums I listened to the most in 2025.

There were plenty of other albums that were also very good and that made picking a top 10 very difficult, so I do want to share some of these very honorable mentions as well: Lifeguard, Ripped and Torn; Lambrini Girls, Who Let the Dogs Out; Snooper, Worldwide; Greg Freeman, Burnover; Native Sun, Concrete Language; Viagra Boys, Viagr Aboys; Sunflower Bean, Mortal Primetime; Charley Crockett, Dollar a Day; Japanese Breakfast, For Melancholy Brunettes (& Sad Women).

At some point this summer I took a picture while driving down a palm-tree-lined street in my California hometown and posted it on my Instagram story with a text overlay that read, “This and some white boy alt-country.” That declaration ultimately ended up encapsulating the vibe of a good portion of my 2025 music leanings, along with the addition of my penchant for good-old-fashioned soppy crooners, all of which contain a through line of really solid storytelling. I’ve been interested in contemplating expansiveness this year — in theory and just my daily physical realm — and these albums kept my feet planted firmly on the ground while simultaneously letting my mind roam off into some truly metaphysical dimensions. More on that another time.

Angie Martoccio, Senior Writer

A 1973 album, reissued and reexamined after being out of print for decades. Twin sisters revisiting their musical bond. And eloquent songwriting about the important things in life, like grocery store sushi* and smoking weed out of a Pepsi can. 2025 was a tough time for everyone, but it was an excellent year for indie rock — and those who were holding out hope that Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham could forgive each other for shacking up and packing up all those years ago. We’ll probably never know the answer to that one, the same way Sabrina will never figure out “Why so sexy if so dumb?” But it’s less about the end result and more about the journey, anyway.

*I actually don’t like grocery store sushi, or any refrigerated sushi for that matter. But I sure do love Karly Hartzman.

McKay Massengale, Event Coordinator

If I had to sum up 2025 in music with one word, it’d be captivating. Working live events for Rolling Stone this year felt like watching the hardcore fan culture come back to life. Fans were lining up at venues early in the morning, camping out all day just to have a spot at the barricade. It is proof that live music has finally healed from the 2020 hiatus. People didn’t just learn how to be fans again, they leveled up. Artists are meeting that energy too, making every show feel personal again. The albums above have been on constant repeat for me. Each album above has pushed limits in its genre, cultivating a fan base that is obsessed with something new. I think we are having one of those moments in music where the connection between artists and fans is stronger than it’s been in years. What a year to be excited about music!

Tomás Mier, Staff Writer

It felt like summer forever, thanks to Zara Larsson and Addison Rae. Zara gave the genre a deep breath of fresh air with Midnight Sun, and Addison rightfully earned her Best New Artist Grammy nod with her whimsical world. And don’t forget about Jade, who with That’s Showbiz Baby! has delivered the best solo album from a girl group alum since that one icon from Destiny’s Child. And what can be said about Lady Gaga? She returned to her roots but still made Mayhem feel completely fresh. That’s MOTHER at her finest.

My year also took a Nashville twist after writing Megan Moroney’s Rolling Stone cover story, which led me to Carter Faith. Cherry Valley is a storytelling masterclass that crowned her, in my eyes, as the next country queen. On the Latin side, Fuerza Regida’s 111Xpantia was a win, too — returning to classic corridos while weaving in banjo and modern touches in a way that worked brilliantly.

Honorable mentions for rising stars: Girl trio Blusher dropped my favorite EP of the year with the dancefloor-ready Racer. Habesha pop-rock diva Alemeda is finally (!!!) getting her flowers. Remy Bond brought her nostalgic vision to life on the excellent Backstage at the Tropicana. And ADÉLA? She’s the world’s next big pop star — I’m sure of it.

Larisha Paul, Staff Writer

A few weeks ago, I ventured into the glacial chill of November in New York. I could have skipped the show. I was going alone, so no one would have missed me there, anyway. But noise-cancelling headphones make for cozy earmuffs (with the illusion of warmth from Zara Larsson’s Midnight Sun playing through the hour-long train ride), and I wanted to people-watch. I wasn’t the only one. An older man — the father of a guitarist in the live band, I learned — stopped to commend how intently I was watching the show. I was really listening, he said, maybe more than anyone else in the room. I felt an odd sense of pride. I forget that the personal experience of music can be perceived so clearly from an external perspective, despite its internal intimacy. 

In 2025, I spent the most time with albums that mirrored this dichotomy. When Hayley Williams released Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party as scattered singles, I couldn’t move past “Love Me Different.” That lyric about “no good routines” made me insecure in front of no one but myself. Then “Parachute” and “Good Ol’ Days” landed and it felt like standing in her living room, an intrusion like the many that shape the most tender moments of Olivia Dean’s The Art of Loving. Dean’s studied observations about love pair well with the case studies Sabrina Carpenter and Amber Mark present on Man’s Best Friend and Pretty Idea, respectively. That we should hold each other’s hearts with a greater consideration for how fragile they are seems obvious, which is maybe how it’s become so easily overlooked. 

These albums possess a distinct transparency, emphasizing that we’re all made of glass, and our shards cut both internally and externally. Tyler, the Creator’s Don’t Tap the Glass, ironically, is the least piercing and the most hedonistic, by design. But Jensen McRae wields her sharpest fragments on I Don’t Know How But They Found Me!, while Malcolm Todd oozes with youthful yearning and surrender, especially and most dramatically when he sings, “You can take control of how my heart bleeds.” It’s like 5 Seconds of Summer offering, “I’ll tell you I’m lost in the world unknown/Throw myself onto the rocks/To make you feel less alone,” on Everyone’s a Star. This is what we all do for one another. 

Everyone’s a Star built an emotionally intricate web of introspection, unease, and curiosity that tied Luke Hemmings’ Boy from last year with Calum Hood’s Order Chaos Order from earlier this year, which felt most like the inside of my own mind over these past few months. They’re all records I heard and immediately felt lucky to know I’d have them for the rest of my life. When Hood and I spoke about “Endless Ways” for Rolling Stone, he described it as a realization of “how much of yourself you can see in humanity.” That about sums this all up, but the song does it better. “Sometimes it takes somebody else/To get to know yourself,” he sings. “To take your hand and hitch a ride/One more dance and one more cry.”

Jaeden Pinder, Editorial Assistant

Honorable Song Mentions:
Model/Actriz, “Cinderella”; Thirteendegreesº, “Da Problem Solva”; Ninajirachi, “iPod Touch”

When I think back on my favorite records of 2025, it won’t take long before I start emulating James Murphy and launch into a tirade of 2020s musical references. I was there at the Geese pop-up concert in Brooklyn when I saw my best friend become a convert in real time during “Trinidad.” Later, I was at Carnegie Hall when Cameron Winter, armed with just a Steinway, stretched the runtime of each song from Heavy Metal for miles (and years). OK, I didn’t make it to the Wednesday show, but I spent the better half of 2025 letting that album (plus Cleo Reed’s, Smerz’s, and james K’s) soundtrack my morning commute. Most of all, I’ll cherish Nourished by Time’s The Passionate Ones, and how the first time I heard the distinct falsetto that closes out the record was two years prior, while I packed into a tiny venue with a few hundred Erotic Probiotic 2 diehards, me included. Most of these artists are well beyond the level of obscurity they wielded just a few years ago, but they still felt like my best-kept secrets, and they got me to the finish line of a challenging but rewarding year.

Nikki McCann Ramirez, Political News Reporter

Writing about American politics means I am probably somewhere on the emotional spectrum between “incandescent with ire” and “existential sorrow” at any given point of my workday. The beautiful thing about working at Rolling Stone in a department people don’t reflexively associate with music and entertainment is sharing a newsroom with coworkers of near impeccable taste who are constantly listening to good music — for any kind of mood — and having to do absolutely none of the legwork to find it myself. To me, angst was back in 2025. (Recession indicator? Who’s to say.) I leaned on Turnstile’s Never Enough when I’d spent too much time reading the president’s Truth Social feed, and Debí Tirar Más Fotos when I needed a reminder that the administration’s xenophobic cruelty can’t stop Latinos with dreams. Zimmer90’s Interior gave me the best small-venue show I saw this year, and a soundtrack to personal romantic melancholy —  and the Beaches’ No Hard Feelings was an alternate for when I was more bitter than melancholy about it.  Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party, The Art of Loving, Getting Killed, you’re getting the picture. The 10 albums here are not necessarily ranked competitively, but were representative of a sincerity in music that, for me, helped cut through the performative theatrics that undergird American politics. 

Maria-Juliana Rojas, Photo Editor

Music in 2025 hit me with a sweet wave of nostalgia and a ton of longing. In one of my favorite songs of the year, “No Puedo Vivir Sin Él”, Karol G took me back home with an accordion-packed vallenato tune (a Colombian genre I always hoped she’d dive into). Throughout the entire Tropicoqueta album, I found myself transported back in time to my childhood with cumbia rhythms and a Marco Antonio Solis feature. The feeling of longing for a culture from back home started even earlier in the year with Bad Bunny’s Debí Tirar Más Fotos. Everytime I listened to “DtMF” I remembered the sweet montages people posted online honoring their loved ones. Dramatic melodies from Not for Radio and Olivia Dean kept my yearning steady throughout the year, but luckily Wet Leg’s energetic Moisturizer helped me maintain a much-needed light-hearted spirit. I’m looking forward to yearning even more in 2026 as I continue to replay Rosalía’s opera-infused Lux album.

Eric Schlawin, Creative Marketing Associate Manager

2025 was one of my favorite music years in recent memory, marked by genre-bending releases from both new faces and familiar mainstays. untiljapan and Feng took the internet (and my top two spots) by storm with breath-of-fresh-air rap projects, while DERBY and Water From Your Eyes continued to captivate with inventive indie sounds. Jane Remover, kmoe, Ninajirachi, and FearDorian each delivered albums full of tastefully chaotic experimentation, and Carti and Lean reminded me that sometimes it is worth it to wait years for an album.

Rob Sheffield, Contributing Writer

What a year for music. Rosalía blew up a host of spiritual and sexual yearnings into Lux, a unique art-pop epic of motomamidolatry. Wednesday and Craig Finn told their heart-piercing stories about ordinary people trying to hold on. Legends like Clipse and Pulp came back strong. Geese became the most exciting indie-rock success story since, you know, MJ Lenderman, with a sound that evokes an In Rainbows tribute band covering Fear of Music, with vocals that split the difference between Stephen Malkmus and Adam Sandler. Taylor Swift made the year’s most divisive album, Number One nearly every week since it dropped — you know, that kind of divisive — and it’s basically a sister album to Reputation, or Reputation And It’s Actually Romantic But Also Still Reputation.

As for Lifeguard, I’ve been hitting play on that art-punk guitar omelette first thing every morning for six months and haven’t figured out a word, so don’t come sniffling to me about emotional content. Who wanted emotional content in 2025? And for the heartwarming cherry on top of this year’s total lack of sundae, Olivia Rodrigo teamed up with Robert Smith at Glastonbury to duet on one of the saddest songs in goth history, and Robert was smiling all the way through it. (I have never, ever seen him smile like that. It did things to my teenage heart that I’m still processing.) O-Rod just announced she’s getting heavily into Joy Division, so here’s predicting my favorite song of 2026 will be her version of “She’s Lost Control.” See you next year.

(For more, see Rob Sheffield’s full lists of the top songs and albums of 2025.)

Tessa Stuart, Senior Writer

The only albums I could tolerate this year all share a specific, almost therapeutic quality. When I put on my headphones, I needed to feel like my cortisol levels were dropping and my sympathetic nervous system was actively being repaired. I did not want to be challenged. Anything that was grating, cloying, or that took any amount of patience to appreciate was not for me (this year, at least). I craved music that could blot out the scraping, grinding cacophony of American politics, which I write about for Rolling Stone, and transport me to, say, a beach in Puerto Rico, the woods in Wisconsin, or Spain’s Santa Maria de Montserrat Abbey. I wanted, for lack of a better term, easy listening, and I found it not just on new albums from old favorites like Bad Bunny, Bon Iver, and Rosalía, but introductions to artists like Alex G, Dijon, and the lovely Guitarricadelafuente.

Grace Troutman, Senior Manager, Creative Marketing

This year consisted of music discovery and listening to my favorite artists in a new light. Starting with my Number One album from Olivia Dean, an artist I’ve admired and watched bubble for the last two years, finally getting her flowers, and releasing songs that felt like a well-painted picture of everything I love about her sound. From early in the year, with Bon Iver releasing an album that felt like a friend, to Djo, who built a whole new level of talent and confidence that is undeniable to anyone who saw him live this year. “Potion” was my most-played song, while “Love Me Different” by Hayley Williams should’ve been. After getting my first-ever opportunity to shoot BTS portraits for Rolling Stone at our Musicians on Musicians event, Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party serves as a career milestone marker every time I listen to it. This year flew by amid a lot of work, learning, and determination. We played Parcels and Tame Impala in the office like it was our job, Dijon kept me going on my commute, and Men I Trust, Broncho, and Alex G continue to be the backbone fueling my creative dreams and late nights. What a year, and I sure am grateful and proud of it.

Simon Vozick-Levinson, Deputy Music Editor

No artist impressed me more in 2025 than the New York duo Water From Your Eyes, who served up a surreal pop-art masterpiece that never stopped surprising and delighting me. It’s a Beautiful Place is the year’s most genuinely inventive album, full of stylistic risks that Nate Amos and Rachel Brown pull off in spectacular fashion; its 29 minutes contain more new ideas than some bands’ entire catalogs. Elsewhere on my list you’ll find familiar faces like Clipse, whose reunion fulfilled more than a decade of wishful thinking from fans like me; Jeff Tweedy, who made the best triple album since Have One On Me; and Bad Bunny, who used his historically huge platform to redirect the world’s focus toward Puerto Rico and its beautiful, too-often-exploited culture. Finally, it was an extraordinarily strong year for indie rock, the genre that takes up the majority of my top 10. Not all of these albums generated the breathless hype sometimes associated with indie success, but every one of them is worth your time.

Jonathan Zavaleta, Commerce Writer

As the longest year in history comes to a close, I’m somehow begging for more time to catch up on music. The standout, for me, was Lorde’s Virgin, an album that felt as grand as it did intimate. The spare but energetic synths stake Virgin as its own bold artistic statement, not just a return to form. At just nine tracks, Big Thief’s Double Infinity was a tighter, leaner album than their sprawling 2022 album, but even Big Thief at their smallest feels like an epic event. Clipse’s Let God Sort Em Out was a welcome reminder of why Pusha T is one of the most vital writers in hip-hop, and even better when trading bars with Malice. Marlon Williams’ beautiful Te Whare Tīwekaweka was the Kiwi country singer’s first effort in Māori, while Jason Isbell’s Foxes in the Snow showed the outspoken songwriter at his most vulnerable. If I’m forced to draw a throughline of my top albums of the year, many of them are about making sense of yourself — or at least trying to.