The Best Songs of 2024 (So Far)

Once a week this year, reliably, a song has made us drop everything. Maybe it’s a juicy diss track, a surprise genre switch-up, or just a beloved musician’s long-awaited reemergence. And oh have they been worth it. Those are among our favorites of 2024 so far: Megan Thee Stallion’s incendiary “Hiss,” a heartfelt country song from Beyoncé, Charli XCX and ScHoolboy Q’s glorious returns to form. Smaller releases have deserved just as much attention, too, from slick pop tracks to confident rock anthems.

The below songs are ordered by release date, starting with the most recent releases.

“Classical,” Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend can rewind to 2008 with just one sound. A few seconds into “Classical,” a riff drops in that sounds like a harpsichord, immediately transporting you back to quirky early cuts like “M79.” But that’s a fake out. Listen closer, and the harpsichord is actually a guitar riff, distorted like many of the other instruments on Only God Was Above Us. “Classical” pulls from other Vampire Weekend eras too: the jaunty acoustic guitar from Father of the Bride, the pensive politics of Modern Vampires of the City. It builds up to something new for the band: a chaotic, free-jazzy breakdown. “It’s clear something’s gonna change / And when it does, which classical remains?,” Ezra Koenig wonders. For Vampire Weekend, the answer is a little bit of everything. —J.C.

“Symptom of Life,” Willow

Willow’s career has been one of adaptability — a flexible performer who can flip between alt-R&B jams, nü-metal covers, and scratchy pop-punk with ease. On “Life,” she pivots to hypnotic jazz-rock about masking your true emotions. “I know I’m not fine,” she sings over major-dominant piano chords. “But yes, I say I’m fine.” —A.S.

“Von Dutch,” Charli XCX

Charli XCX’s music exists at two ends of the swinging pendulum. She goes for middle-of-the-road pop gloss when her major-label contract is up and makes a song for the biggest movie of the year, then she returns with a breezy, sleazy club track that she played at the Boiler Room. “Von Dutch” is an immediate hit of the messy Charli we’d been missing since 2017’s Pop 2, pushed from zero to 100 and then into overdrive. “Von Dutch, cult classic but I still pop,” she says, over the dirtiest synths you ever did hear. —J.C.

➽Read Jason Frank’s scene report from Charli XCX’s Boiler Room set.

“Ogallala,” Hurray for the Riff Raff

Honestly, I could have picked anything off The Past Is Still Alive, an album-as-road-trip folktale from Alynda Segarra’s Hurray for the Riff Raff. So I flipped a coin and went with “Ogallala,” the final montage soundtrack for Segarra’s cross-country trek. After an epic journey of freight-train-hopping, sleeping on trash piles, and ducking the cops in Nebraska, they’re ready to take it all in. “We’ll get lost in a city forgotten / ’Cause I don’t like change / And I hate good-byes.” —A.S.

➽ Read Jenn Pelly’s profile of Alynda Segarra.

“Yearn 101,” ScHoolboy Q

The aggrieved ScHoolboy Q fans who spent the last five years begging for new music (hi, it’s me) can finally shut up now that the rapper dropped his sprawling new record, Blue Lips. The bass-rattling “Yearn 101” feels like a personal challenge Q made to himself, stuffing as many neck-snapping bars as he could into a two-minute track. —A.S.

➽Read Craig Jenkins’s review of ScHoolboy Q’s Blue Lips.

“Bored,” Waxahatchee

Katie Crutchfield has found a home making glistening, easygoing country music — first on 2020’s Saint Cloud, then with Jess Williamson in Plains in 2022, and now on her album Tigers Blood. Though she took a long, winding path to get there — she began her career making punk music with her sister Allison — she still has that rocker’s spirit, just with a bit more twang now. “My spine’s a rotted two-by-four,” she cries, over a wall of guitars. (MJ Lenderman, from the Southern punk band Wednesday, plays on the track.) Telling the story of a messy split from a friend, Crutchfield chooses her words carefully: “I get bored,” she repeats, the line becoming more cutting each time. —J.C.

“16 Carriages,” Beyoncé

On “16 Carriages,” Beyoncé tackles the sort of track that country artists have been cutting for decades: a road song. “At 15, the innocence was gone astray / Had to leave my home at an early age,” she sings, remembering her first tour with Destiny’s Child. Beyoncé fashions herself as the weary troubadour, reminding fans that her glamorous life didn’t come without sacrifice. It’s the most Beyoncé has opened up on a record in years, and it’s no coincidence that it’s on a country ballad — her own three chords and the truth. Robert Randolph’s resounding steel guitar adds a touch of Southern gospel, while Bey brings some soulful riffing throughout. To paraphrase her, “16 Carriages” is more than country music — it’s Beyoncé music. —J.C.

➽ Read Craig Jenkins’s review of Beyoncé’s Cowboy Carter.

“Alesis,” Mk.gee

There’s a warm, slightly unmoored feeling to Mk.gee’s debut album, Two Star & The Dream Police, like it was made in a sensory-deprivation tank. The guitar warbles and floods, the vocals pop and echo, the snare shuffles and snaps. Attempting to unwind all the disparate parts — particularly on album standout “Alesis,” with its honeyed top-line melodies and soothing harmonies — is like trying to catch a cloud.—A.S.

“Don’t Forget Me,” Maggie Rogers

As the engagement photos crowd Instagram and the wedding invites pile up, it’s hard not to let your mind run wild. Even Maggie Rogers knows the feeling. On her sepia ballad “Don’t Forget Me,” she watches in shock as her friends’ relationships progress. “I’m still tryin’ to clean up my side of the street,” she sings. The title is a double plea: to the men who Rogers isn’t quite with for the long haul (“a good lover or a friend that’s nice to me”) and to her friends, progressing onto new stages of life. Rogers has made a name off emotional honesty, and she rarely sounds more unadorned than in the chorus, wailing over a swaying, ’70s-ish piano.

“Hiss,” Megan Thee Stallion

Oh, you do not want to get on Megan Thee Stallion’s bad side. It’s not just that she’s going to drop third-degree burns and remind the world of your sex-offender husband — she’s going to out-rap you without breaking a sweat. Megan turns her flow on a dime, spitting at such a breakneck pace that individual bars can fly by unnoticed. But every line is worth dwelling on. “Ask a ho why she don’t like me, bet she can’t give you a reason,” she raps.

“Fashion Icon,” Aliyah’s Interlude

An influencer attempting to parlay their GRWM videos into a successful music career is the kind of thing annoying industry-plant discourse subsists on. But who cares about that when you’re making earworm-y club bangers like “Fashion Icon”? —A.S.

“Where We’ve Been,” Friko

“Where We’ve Been” is a song just begging to soundtrack the climax of a coming-of-age movie, from a Chicago duo who only just came of age themselves. The song starts out claustrophobic, with Niko Kapetan’s voice hushed and quivering over an acoustic guitar. Then comes an electric riff, some pattering drums, more singers. It’s a formula executed to perfection — until it all crashes down in the bridge. The band’s passion is combustible; Kapetan said everyone was in tears by the end of the recording. That’s the power of a great rock crescendo.

“Bye Bye,” Kim Gordon

Is it Soundcloud rap? A noise-rock anthem? A grocery list masked as spoken-word poetry? Yes, and also, just a Kim Gordon song. —A.S.

“Lego Ring,” Faye Webster featuring Lil Yachty

Faye Webster and Lil Yachty are two of the biggest tricksters in their respective genres, but they’ve both gotten pretty serious lately. Thankfully, though, the two middle-school friends can still help each other kick back, as they do on Webster’s “Lego Ring.” There are fleeting moments of beauty, like Yachty’s warbling harmonies or Webster’s simple, piercing lyrics (“It’s a mood ring / It’ll pick for me”), but that’s not what this song is about. It’s about Yachty rapping “Always together like string beans” (the new “She blow that dick like a cello”) in the outro. Seriousness is overrated, anyway.

“Lucky,” Erika de Casier

“Lucky” is a specific type of love song, about an infatuation that gives you butterflies. Erika de Casier finds the most thrill in the small details of her crush, like the perfect way their white T-shirt fits. “I felt it in my body like whoa,” she sings, making that one syllable soar. The whole track flutters with ecstasy, especially the racing, clubby drum track, racing like a heartbeat. It’s an understated twist on the same thrilling formula de Casier helped execute on songs like NewJeans’ “Super Shy.”