I walked into 2025 convinced I had already seen the musical roadmap. After last year’s cowboy couture and brief national flirtation with “simpler times,” paired with the hot–girl, indie–pop momentum (Addison Rae’s spiritual jurisdiction), I expected the year to bestow some polite sense of continuity—the next step felt predetermined, if not exactly obvious.
But that’s not what happened. 2025’s musical landscape has been a carousel of aesthetic whiplash. From the diaristic oversharing Olympics waged by every artist under 30 (I’m talking to you, Role Model), to the smirking satire of Sabrina Carpenter’s Man’s Best Friend—and her now–infamous album cover—the year was restless. If there’s anything to take away from 2025, it’s that music is defined less by genre and more so by moment. The rest of Street’s picks are just as unruly.
—Sophia Mirabal, Music editor
DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS—Bad Bunny
It’s no secret that Bad Bunny’s new album has received overwhelmingly positive reviews—as opposed to his relationship with Kendall Jenner. Scroll through TikTok and you’ll find your feed flooded with videos of sunset car rides and crowded dinner tables with the ever–present “debí tirar mas fotos” of Bad Bunny’s title track, “DtMF,” playing in the background. A night at a crowded club or even one of our dearly beloved fraternities is guaranteed to bless your ears with a (badly blended) remix of “EoO” or “NUEVAYoL.” Despite his recent uptick in mainstream popularity, Bad Bunny has yet to sacrifice his roots and culture in favor of Grammy chasing, successfully resisting the gentrification of música urbana. His album has been hailed as a “love letter to Puerto Rico,” as he revisits his home both musically, through his use of plena and ’70s salsa tunes, and thematically—but it is multitudes more than that.
“DtMF” serves as both a rallying call and a warning—to Puerto Ricans and negligent United States citizens alike—about the nation’s failing democracy, cultural authenticity, and environment. In “LO QUE LE PASÓ A HAWAii,” Bad Bunny cautions Puerto Ricans that their home might meet the same fate as Hawaii at the hands of U.S. neocolonizers unless radical change is implemented. In “LA MuDANZA,” he directly supports the Puerto Rican fight for independence through a phrase referencing Eugenio María de Hostos. Though this album, like much popular Latin music, has been commercialized—often played in conjunction with millennial suburban nostalgia—it is a critical artistic work that must be valued for its mobilizing potential and thoughtful social action. Ending his musical short film with the words “Seguimos aquí,” Bad Bunny galvanizes all Puerto Ricans to the call of “We are still here.”
—Mira Agarwal, Music beat
Kansas Anymore (The Longest Goodbye)—Role Model
I want to be Role Model’s “Sally” tonight, because the deluxe version of his sophomore album, Kansas Anymore (The Longest Goodbye), was just that good. With breakout hits like “Sally, When the Wine Runs Out” and “Some Protector,” Role Model has established himself as an artist to watch this year. In this case, the deluxe tracks enhance an already strong album, as both the new additions and the originals showcase a refreshing level of authenticity and introspection. The album follows his breakdown following a devastating breakup, as well as his subsequent attempts to piece himself back together.
But Role Model moves beyond simply bashing his ex or begging for her back, instead exploring a range of realistic (at times, contradictory) experiences and emotions—from evading responsibility on “Look At That Woman” to hyperfixating on his shortcomings in “Scumbag” and “Frances.” He spirals from self–destructing and escapism—drowning his sorrows in fleeting encounters on “Slut Era Interlude” and “Slipfast”—to speculating if his ex is doing the same in “Some Protector.” He confesses he still wants her on “Deeply Still In Love,” yet wishes her the best as she moves on in “Compromise” and “Old Recliners.” The whole album feels like a reckoning—a messy progression from self–blame and insecurity toward eventual acceptance. Role Model proves you can truly be within and without (your ex).
—Amber Urena, Music beat
Virgin—Lorde
Just when we needed a soundtrack to our existential crises, Lorde came back better than ever. Virgin is a perfect blend of her earlier albums: Pure Heroine, Melodrama, and Solar Power. The album presents as an ephemeral exploration of what it means to be a “virgin” when your body has never quite felt like your own. Lorde’s identity shifts in an unstable yet exploratory way. She doesn’t offer a single answer to the question of virginity; instead, she reclaims her body and identity track by track. No longer something to be taken, Lorde turns the purity of virginity into something messy and entirely her own. Every song feels like a glimpse inside of her soul—a vulnerability that everyone can resonate with. In doing so, she makes space for us to be complicated, to shapeshift, and to reclaim our bodies too.
—Emily Whitehead, Music beat
Man’s Best Friend—Sabrina Carpenter
Say “arrivederci, au revoir, tata, goodbye” to my $15 Sabrina Carpenter tickets from three years ago, because the Disney Channel girl who once joked her way through opening slots is now running pop like it’s Pretty Girl Avenue. Man’s Best Friend is Carpenter’s most gloriously unserious work yet: a record so self–aware it’s practically looking at itself in a mirror and winking. “Tears” turns IKEA assembly into erotic ritual (“Assemble a chair from IKEA, I’m like, ‘uhhh’”), while “House Tour” is an actual architectural fantasy, complete with marble floors, swinging doors, and double entendres like no other. Across 12 tracks, Carpenter builds her universe like a true dollhouse: plastic on the surface, but sharp where it needs to be. The album is pop maximalism disguised as comedy, the sound of someone who’s finally in on the joke—and everyone’s right there laughing with her.
—Ananya Karthik, Music beat
Racing Mount Pleasant—Racing Mount Pleasant
Recently, I’ve been following these TikTok edits of Mario Kart gameplay over emo–rock. While the combination may seem bizarre, the genre speaks to the specific desire to stick your head out the sunroof of a zooming car, so it is no surprise that the footage of a game steeped in adrenaline synergizes well with the groove of melodramatic and exhilarating chants.
Racing Mount Pleasant’s self–titled album epitomizes this instinct. The effect isn’t achieved by overloading its sound with maximalist guitars and vocals, but by delaying crescendoes, interpolating serene ballads, and delivering climaxes with such bombastic aplomb that the impulse to sing overcomes my better judgement to act normal in public. Songs like “Your New Place” feel like a slowly opening door, one whose widening crevice teases buried emotions into an inevitable cathartic eruption. These passages now soundtrack my feral screams at the appearance of a blue shell as I race towards the end of Rainbow Road—the thrill of almost losing control.
—Kyunghwan Lim, Music beat
The Art of Loving—Olivia Dean
While I was working in a closet–sized lab all summer, Olivia Dean’s 2023 album Messy rang through my ears. The album had popped up on my feed just when her song “Nice to Each Other” dropped as the single for her upcoming album The Art of Loving. I played it on repeat for hours as I worked, fantasizing about my time in Italy earlier in the summer. Dean clearly had her own little romance in the country, singing, “If I come to Italy, we could be nice to each other, nice to each other” in the beginning of the song. I can still feel the ocean breeze every time I hear it.
When the rest of the album came out, I stopped and listened immediately. All the waves and shapes of love I’ve experienced in my life floated through my head as she sang about her own life stories. From flings and self–love in Paris to my long–term high school relationship, from men to women, Olivia Dean seems to have studied my entire life. Her voice is stunning and each song is unique in its own composition, but her lyricism is truly what stands out about the album. She’s managed to bundle up every love story, every breakup, every indescribably painful moment of yearning into one pretty little album.
I’d never heard of her until I found “Messy” this summer, and now that The Art of Loving has come out, she’s easily No. 1 on my YouTube Music recap this year (I don’t use Spotify, suckers).
—Sadie Daniel, Focus beat
Wishbone—Conan Gray
Have I ever gone through a breakup before? No. Have I ever been in a relationship before? Also no. But you don’t have to experience these things to be able to relate to the soul–crushing, heartbreaking, and healing songs in Conan Gray’s most recent album Wishbone. Each and every single lyric is written to perfection and the music flawlessly encompasses the young adult experience: the exciting rush of having a crush and being in love (“This Song” and “Caramel”), the feeling of sorrow amidst a heartbreak (“Vodka Cranberry” and “Care”), and the process of self–growth after hardship (“My World” and “Romeo”). Millions of Gray’s fans have known of his lyrical genius since his first albums Kid Krow and Superache, but Wishbone further highlights why his songwriting works so well with production; his songs don’t just exemplify an emotion, they tell a story—and boy, does he know how to write a bridge. “Eleven Eleven” and “Actor” (my personal favorite on the album) are perfect examples of this; as the vocals crescendo and the beats become more prominent, the confessional nature of each of the songs takes over, letting listeners absorb every ounce of truth and raw emotion Gray pours into his music.
—Sophia Leong, Film & TV beat
Revengeseekerz—Jane Remover
Revengeseekerz represents one of the most aggressive pivots an artist has made yet, and can only really be described as high–octane. The instrumentals, vocals, and effects rarely let up for long periods throughout. The almost hourlong experience is packed to the brim with highly experimental hyperpop and hip–hop/rap sounds, which work synergetically with Jane Remover’s trademark Dariacore sound to create a maximalist landscape of vox effects and overdriven instrumentals.
The pivot is an exciting one, showing that Remover isn’t afraid to explore outside of their comfort zone. It shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise considering the vast differences between their earlier focuses like their venture under the moniker “Leroy” and their indie–rock side project Venturing.
Revengeseekerz doesn’t just represent a change in mood; it represents a change in concept and a commitment to breaking the mold. Escaping the gaping pit of the musical “underground” has always been difficult, but Remover proves their unique versatility and reach.
As for the album title’s namesake, that’s quite uncertain. Remover’s projects have always been met with some level of critical acclaim, but part of their fanbase has always opposed their exploration away from their establishing Dariacore influence. Remover’s pivot into this latest sound could likely be coming from a place of rebellion against this notion, but whatever the reason, there’s no telling where they’re gonna go next.
—Demi Marhule, Film & TV beat
Rebel—EsDeeKid
“The tower blocks rise like broken teeth / Gnawed down by wind, by time, by hands / That never build, only break inside…”
So begins the poem on the cover of Rebel, the debut album of British underground prodigy EsDeeKid. Every one of the Liverpool rapper’s tracks abounds with frenetic energy and aggression, and appearances from frequent collaborators like Rico Ace and Fimiguerrero prevent EsDeeKid’s heavy Scouse flow from losing its novelty and edge. But where this album really stands out is in its production—the foreboding instrumentals on tracks like “4 Raws” and “Phantom” evoke a real sense of dread in listeners, while “Rottweiler” and “Tartan” slow things down and allow EsDeeKid to exhibit both his complex lyricism and his unorthodox flow. Every track simultaneously pounds and glides across the ears—EsDeeKid masterfully synthesizes the digital chaos of modern underground rap and the raw, unyielding fury of the British drill traditions he draws upon. No working artist sounds quite like this—and perhaps none ever will.
—Nishanth Bhargava, digital managing editor
