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Song of the summer 2025: writers pick their tracks of the season

Song of the summer 2025: writers pick their tracks of the season

The Guardian4 days ago
Summer is for out-of-office email bouncebacks, smashing your laptop shut at 4pm and putting it off until tomorrow. This year, no song represents the simple thrill of shrugging it off better than Addison Rae's Headphones On. With a detached, lobotomy-chic delivery that's drawn comparisons to Y2K-era Madonna, the TikTok star turned serious pop scholar breezes through a list of anxieties, from her parents' relationship to the ever-present thrill of being bumped down a notch by 'the new it girl'. Ultimately, our laconic heroine swaps a panic attack for slipping those headphones on and riding it all out with a song. Clocking in at exactly four minutes, there's a straightforwardness to it all that I can't help but appreciate. Rae will make you dance without working too hard. And that's all I want right now. Alaina Demopoulos
This song, sung by a six-woman international K-pop group, begins with an analysis of how malleable English slang is. 'They could describe everything with one single word, you know? / Boba tea, gnarly / Tesla, gnarly / Fried chicken, gnarly,' one member of Katseye sings, the bass thumping every time she says the most versatile descriptive word in the language, signifying intensity, both positive and negative. It's the early 2010s, and we're so back. The song is as maximalist as can be, similar to Skrillex's 2011 Bangarang or Kesha's 2010 hit TiK ToK. The music video, in which the group assembles a grotesque sandwich, calls back to 2010's Telephone, when Lady Gaga does the same. The song is fun and rowdy. It speeds forward, apt for TikTok (the app), where it first gained popularity with a distinctive, jerky dance. If you like Gnarly, I would suggest going in search of other songs by one of the song's writers, Alice Longyu Gao. Rich Bitch Juice and 100 Boyfriends feature the same mix of heavy bass and saccharine, electrified vocals and instrumentation. Blake Montgomery
Since squishing a NOW! compilation's worth of ideas into three minutes on her solo single Angel of My Dreams, Jade has backed up what Little Mixologists always suspected – that she knows pop as if she has an MA in Bangers. Ahead of the release of her debut album That's Showbiz, Baby!, there's something invitingly scrappy to the way she's dovetailed from brash EDM to orgasmic disco, discarding cheap wigs and Jade-branded buttplugs in her wake. (To my mind, the only other pop act exploring genre this boldly is Sabrina Carpenter, who is something like a spiritual sibling to Jade as well as her stylistic opposite.) Plastic Box bottles a certain Scandinavian strain of sweet melancholy, with Jade playing the jilted lover over seductive electro-pop. Co-producers Grades and Oscar Görres, the latter of whom helmed most of Troye Sivan's slick Something to Give Each Other, hug her voice with rosy synths and a chorus that explodes in a cloud of confetti. It's an end of summer party that's chicer than SSENSE – and despite Jade's antics that made her so much fun to follow, Plastic Box proves that she's just as magnetic when she strips them away. Owen Myers
To me, summer feels like going at terminal velocity down a waterslide: an unstoppable blur that before you know it has spat you out in the run-out pool of autumn, dazed and blinking. PinkPantheress's new 20-minute, 30-second mixtape Fancy That feels the same way, a rush of UK dance music history – heavy with samples of Basement Jaxx and Underworld and nods to Fatboy Slim and Groove Armada – guided by a flirt laying down the law in girlish RP. Illegal is the only time Pink's grip loosens, thanks to a hero dose of THC that leaves her tangled in lust, paranoia and shame. Between the reality-obliterating synth strobes, her sensory production makes you feel all the freedom and frustration of being high, close breaths and screams flickering through the slipstream. Laura Snapes
There are plenty of songs of the summer about falling in love or partying or breaking up or going for a long, gorgeous drive, but there are hardly enough songs for summer lethargy. When the mercury hits 90 degrees, all my friends go insane, my technology stops working, and I start napping for at least one hour a day. Enter commie bf, a blunt buzzsaw of a song on which forty winks singer Cilia Catello yells that 'everyone and everything makes my ears ring' right before she and her bandmates unleash a maelstrom of nasty, dementedly catchy punk-pop. This is a funny, and fun, and ferocious track – loud and unruly, but so intensely catchy that even the guitar-music-averse among us would have to admire its moxie. Catello's sheer frustration rings through every second of the song, enough to shake you from that heatwave-induced stupor and get your ass back into gear, no matter how sweaty and malcontent you may be. Shaad D'Souza
While pop fans fret about there not being a good enough song of the summer this year, the UK has gone ahead and anointed its choice anyway. MK's Dior is now at No 1 in the UK charts, standard behaviour for a country whose inhabitants need only the faintest hint of a 4/4 pop-dance beat on a temperate day to crack open a tinned cocktail at 11am and go 'wheeeeey' with arms stretched wide. US producer MK, AKA Marc Kinchen, has been around since the early 90s (he's behind the still-ubiquitous Push the Feeling On) and therefore brings a level of craft to bear on his productions that puts them into a different league to all other mirrored-wall nightclub fodder. 2017's 17 still shines like the white walls and high-tensile glass of an Ibizan villa; 2023's Asking is as good as build-and-drop dance gets. 2025's offering Dior is more coiled and sensual than those tracks, with a really dramatic delayed drop: silence and Chrystal's a cappella vocal fill the space where you expect the beat, creating a simple but spine-tingling effect. The high fashion references meanwhile make it a sort of sequel to 2023's equivalent dance-pop song of the summer, Cassö's Prada. Ben Beaumont-Thomas
Best efforts notwithstanding, the vibes aren't great this summer. The news is terrible, the AI ominous, the culture still in an extended hangover from last year's Espresso buzz and Brat bumps. There is no obvious song of the summer – the charts are basically tracks from 2024 or Morgan Wallen (though you wouldn't know it in godless New York); Charli xcx basically headlined Glastonbury; people are too busy arguing over Sabrina Carpenter's album cover to remember her Espresso follow-up Manchild. In this muggy malaise, I've been stuck on Haim's Relationships – the LA trio's best pop song to date, a bright, deceptively airy anthem for being fucking over it. Lyrically, this lead single off the sisters' aspirationally titled fourth album I Quit describes the messy end of some ill-defined entanglement. But its spare, intoxicating production – simple piano chords, ambling bass, synths glimmering like barlights at 9pm dusk – evokes a more general, potent summer ennui. I normally want the bpm up when it's hot, but this summer, I've been circling blocks to Danielle's dreamy falsetto, ascending with her rhetorical questions – fucking relationships, don't they end up all the same? – and then crashing back to earth with her 'when there's no one else to blame'. Feelings? In this strung-out summer? Try me next year. Adrian Horton
The most joyous sounding song of this summer addresses depression, numbness and the futility of it all. No Joy, by the tuneful New Zealand quartet the Beths, provides an ideal object lesson in the thrill of mixed messages in pop. The music couldn't feel more summery or light, fired by bouncy powerpop chords and chirpy backup vocals. The video, set in a candy-colored child's playroom, follows suit, with lead singer/writer Elizabeth Stokes deadpanning her way through lyrics like: 'All my pleasures, guilty / Clean slate looking filthy' and 'I feel nothing,' all while her bandmates smile with satirically exaggerated pleasure. It's impossible to keep a straight face while watching or listening to it, despite the fact that the numbness Stokes reports in her words reflects something sadly real. The lyrics chronicle her experience on the dulling SSRI drug she has used to deal with her depression. True as that may be for her, the song winds up giving the opposite feeling to the listener. When she sings 'no joy' over and over we feel nothing but – a twist that could make this the most ironic song of this summer, as well as the most irresistible. Jim Farber
Welcome to sombr season. Summer '25 seems to have given us a new star, and he's Shane Boose – otherwise known by his melancholy moniker, sombr. A native of New York's bustling Lower East Side, at just 19 he has effectively launched his mainstream career with a series of chart-topping singles which flaunts the artist's emotional, guitar-propelled lyrics. Yes you read that right, the new generation has officially rediscovered actual instruments, with the teenage artist seemingly channelling alt-rock acts like Arctic Monkeys and Radiohead, the latter of whom he's cited as a major influence. Songs like We Never Dated flaunt brutally honest lyrics accented by guitar-picking led it to become an instant breakout upon its late June release, which makes it a no-brainer when it comes to Song of the Summer status. Meanwhile, he's riding high on other explosive singles including Back to Friends, which recently was anointed as the most-streamed song on Spotify's global charts. Rob LeDonne
Without a factory-made earworm to invade our every waking moment, the floor has opened up to a wider selection of artists this summer and, as there always should be in my opinion, a wider selection of vibes to go with it. Songs of the summer are typically characterised by the infectious perk and sweaty overwhelm of mid-afternoon sun but there's another seasonal feeling we all know, as the brightness starts to fade, that also deserves its space. Boston-born singer Khamari knows it too and in delicate downer Head in a Jar, he captures a brand of summery sadness that's also rather seductive, a deliberate dive into dark feelings that's as refreshing as an early evening breeze. It's a song about being pushed away from the centre of someone's life, forced to watch from a distance instead and, with a voice that has rightly earned comparisons to the mostly awol Frank Ocean, Khamari pierces right through. He's quietly been gaining buzz since his similarly reflective 2020 EP Eldorado and this one deserves to vault him from the outside in. Benjamin Lee
You know you're in the right party if someone throws down this tune. The Chilean-German firebrand Matías Aguayo returned in May with a subversive dancefloor heater that has been building in notoriety over the subsequent months. It's sung in Spanish but translates to, Aguayo says: 'walking through the city on hot summer nights looking for the perfect dancefloor'. But it's also a mission statement, longing for 'revolutions in music and dreams in community' away from homogenisation, social media likes and solely facing the DJ booth. In the track, Aguayo remembers the freewheeling days of YouTube rips where you could hear 'raw, primitive and direct music' from, say, a Syrian wedding or Angolan teenagers dancing on the streets – references for El Internet's own jittery, restless rhythm and also his live DJ sets, where he sings and dances inside a circle in the audience, inviting onlookers to move freely with him and let loose. It's lithe, gonzo techno for sticky evenings in search of catharsis and connection. Kate Hutchinson
Taken from London-based polymath Tom Rasmussen's High Wire, a remixed and reimagined version of last year's excellent Live Wire album, new song Gay Bar – not a cover of Electric Six, apols – showcases two of my favourite summer past-times; trashy storytelling and gossip. Who doesn't love a steamy page-turner on the beach, interrupted only by the details of last night's escapades wafting over from the gaggle of pals nearby? On Gay Bar, Rasmussen details three attempts at a night out; the first is interrupted by a pint to the face, and then completely ruined by the gay bar now being a Slug & Lettuce. Night two, meanwhile, involves going to the place where 'Danielle sucked on that MP's armpit', but – shock horror! - it's now a Crossfit gym full of 'muscled up yuppies'. By night three, with hope dwindling, Rasmussen takes a straight friend giving off 'bi vibes' to a busy gay bar. As the song's hi-NRG dance pop ratchets up, you find yourself gripped as the story reaches its climax; will Cassandra get off with anyone? What's Rasmussen doing in the basement? When will the decimation of queer nightlife end? It's a real page-turner. Michael Cragg
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Hulk Hogan descended upon American culture at exactly the time it was ready for him: the 1980s
Hulk Hogan descended upon American culture at exactly the time it was ready for him: the 1980s

The Independent

time6 minutes ago

  • The Independent

Hulk Hogan descended upon American culture at exactly the time it was ready for him: the 1980s

The opening chords of Rick Derringer's hard-rock guitar would play over the arena sound system. Instantly, 20,000 Hulkamaniacs — and many more as wrestling's popularity and stadium size exploded — rose to their feet in a frenzy to catch a glimpse of Hulk Hogan storming toward the ring. His T-shirt half-ripped, his bandanna gripped in his teeth, Hogan faced 'em all in the 1980s — the bad guys from Russia and Iran and any other wrestler from a country that seemed to pose a threat to both his WWF championship and, of course, could bring harm to the red, white and blue. His 24-inch pythons slicked in oil, glistening under the house lights, Hogan would point to his next foe — say 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper or Jake 'The Snake' Roberts (rule of thumb: In the 80s, the more quote marks in a name, the meaner the wrestler) — all to the strain of Derringer's patriotic 'Real American.' In Ronald Reagan's 1980s slice of wishful-thinking Americana, no one embodied the vision of a 'real American' like Hulk Hogan. 'We had Gorgeous George and we had Buddy Rogers and we had Bruno Sammartino,' WWE Hall of Famer Sgt. Slaughter said Friday. 'But nobody compared at that time compared to Hulk Hogan. His whole desire was to be a star and be somebody that nobody every forgot. He pretty much did that.' He saw himself as an all-American hero Hogan, who died Thursday in Florida at age 71, portrayed himself as an all-American hero, a term that itself implies a stereotype. He was Sylvester Stallone meets John Wayne in tights — only fans could actually touch him and smell the sweat if the WWF came to town. Hogan presented as virtuous. He waved the American flag, never cheated to win, made sure 'good' always triumphed over 'evil.' He implored kids around the world: 'Train, say your prayers, eat your vitamins." Hogan did it all, hosting 'Saturday Night Live,' making movies, granting Make-A-Wish visits, even as he often strayed far from the advice that made him a 6-foot-8, 300-plus pound cash cow and one of the world's most recognizable entertainers. His muscles looked like basketballs, his promos electrified audiences — why was he yelling!?! — and he fabricated and embellished stories from his personal life all as he morphed into the personification of the 80s and 80s culture and excess. In the not-so-real world of professional wrestling, Hulk Hogan banked on fans believing in his authenticity. That belief made him the biggest star the genre has ever known. Outside the ring, the man born Terry Gene Bollea wrestled with his own good guy/bad guy dynamic, a messy life that eventually bled beyond the curtain, spilled into tabloid fodder and polluted the final years of his life. Hogan — who teamed with actor Mr. T in the first WrestleMania — was branded a racist. He was embroiled in a sex-tape scandal. He claimed he once contemplated suicide. All this came well after he admitted he burst into wrestling stardom not on a strict diet of workouts and vitamins, but of performance-enhancing drugs, notably steroids. The punches, the training, the grueling around-the-world travel were all real (the outcomes, of course, were not). So was the pain that followed Hogan as he was temporarily banished from WWE in his later years. He was the flawed hero of a flawed sport, and eventually not even wrestling fans, like a bad referee, could turn a blind eye to Hogan's discretions. His last appearance fizzled Hogan's final WWE appearance came this past January at the company's debut episode on Netflix. Hogan arrived months after he appeared at the Republican National Convention and gave a rousing speech -- not unlike his best 1980s promos -- in support of Donald Trump. Just a pair of the 1980s icons, who used tough talk and the perceived notion they could both 'tell it like it is,' to rise to the top. Only wrestling fans, especially one in the home of the Los Angeles event, had enough of Hogan. 'He was full-throated, it wasn't subtle, his support for Donald Trump,' said ESPN writer Marc Raimondi, who wrote the wrestling book 'Say Hello to the Bad Guys." 'I think that absolutely hurt him.' He didn't appear for an exercise in nostalgia or a vow that if he could just lace up the boots one more time, he could take down today's heels. No, Hogan came to promote his beer. Beer loosely coded as right-wing beer. No song was going to save him this time. Fed up with his perceived MAGA ties and divisive views, his racist past and a string of bad decisions that made some of today's stars also publicly turn on him, Hogan was about booed out of the building. This wasn't the good kind of wrestling booing, like what he wanted to hear when he got a second act in the 1990s as 'Hollywood' Hulk Hogan when controversy equaled cash. This was go-away heat. 'I think the politics had a whole lot to do with it,' Hogan said on 'The Pat McAfee Show' in February. Hogan always envisioned himself as the Babe Ruth of wrestling. On the back of Vince McMahon, now entangled in his own sordid sex scandal, Hogan turned a staid one-hour Saturday morning show into the land of NFL arenas, cable TV, pay-per-view blockbusters, and eventually, billon-dollar streaming deals. Once raised to the loftiest perch in sports and entertainment by fans who ate up everything the Hulkster had to say, his final, dismal appearance showed that even Hulk Hogan could take a loss. 'The guy who had been the master at getting what he wanted from the crowd for decades, he lost his touch,' Raimondi said. 'Very likely because of the things he did in his personal and professional life.' But there was a time when Hogan had it all. The fame. The championships. Riches and endorsements. All of it not from being himself, but by being Hulk Hogan. 'There's people in this business that become legends," Sgt. Slaughter said. 'But Hulk became legendary.'

Rob Kardashian's ex Blac Chyna showcases dramatic weight loss amid Hollywood's Ozempic craze
Rob Kardashian's ex Blac Chyna showcases dramatic weight loss amid Hollywood's Ozempic craze

Daily Mail​

time6 minutes ago

  • Daily Mail​

Rob Kardashian's ex Blac Chyna showcases dramatic weight loss amid Hollywood's Ozempic craze

She has been embarking on a spiritual and physical makeover in recent years, one which has seen her get into incredible shape. And Blac Chyna showcased the results of all her regular workouts in her latest post on Thursday. Clad in a skintight taupe bodysuit, the outfit accentuated Chyna's incredible weight loss. 'Ginger has entered the chat @fashionnova,' she captioned the post, seemingly referencing her fiery hair color. Chyna - born Angela White - was the picture of fitness as she showed off her flat abs, toned legs and defined arms. Feet slipped into to New Balance trainers and chunky white socks, Chyna, 37, looked ready to exercise in style. While various celebrities have also been dropping the pounds with the help of weight loss medication Ozempic in recent years, Chyna, who has never said she's used the product, can thank her fitness regimen for her results. The star - who has four-year-old daughter Dream with ex-fiance Rob Kardashian and 12-year-old son King with ex-fiance Tyga - has been documenting her rigorous workouts on Instagram, and didn't take any breaks as bikini season approached. 'Summer is around the corner baby… time to shred !!!!! Let's goooo @_a1fit 8 week program let's get it,' she captioned an exercise post back in April. Not only has Chyna been hitting the gym to maintain her svelte physique, but two years ago she underwent a dramatic physical and mental make-under after getting baptized and reconnecting with God. The born-again Christian began a return to her natural body after making her name showing off more voluptuous curves, undergoing a breast reduction, removing the silicone fillers in her derriere, and dissolving her facial fillers. She also got sober and shed her infamous stage name in favor of embracing her birth name. Reflecting on the process to return back to Angela, the My Word singer admitted to in 2023 that it has been a 'rewarding' experience. 'Not only am I doing it for myself, but then I'm also encouraging other people that's even thinking about it,' she gushed. The former stripper said she was stunned by the reaction to her make-under however - admitting she 'didn't think it was going to be so massive'. The born-again Christian began a return to her natural body after making her name showing off more voluptuous curves, getting a breast reduction, removing the silicone fillers in her derriere and dissolving her facial fillers; pictured 2016 'Everybody's been really, really supportive. When I posted it, I didn't think that it was going to be so massive,' she said of her decision to share video footage of herself having her filler dissolved. 'Like, I posted at maybe 3.30 in the morning. And I was just healing from my surgery and thought, 'Let me just post these,' and then I went to sleep. I woke up and it had blown up but in a positive way. 'When I saw that, I'm like, 'This makes me want to even be more open and vulnerable with the people so they can see.' So that's when I documented me, dissolving in my face fillers in the lips.' Chyna has no regrets about dissolving her filler, confessing that she believes she went too far with the cosmetic procedure. 'It got to a point where my lips were so big, even when I would smile, you still couldn't see my teeth,' she said. 'Now you can see my teeth... I have teeth.' She was quick to stress that she is 'not against' fillers or cosmetic surgery, but noted that she wants anyone who is thinking of getting work done to research thoroughly and 'make sure you know exactly what you are putting into your body'. Chyna had previously admitted to undergoing a long list of procedures, including four breast surgeries, liposuction, and a backside enhancement before she began posting a series of candid videos in 2023 to document her surgery journey. She insisted that she never had a Brazilian butt lift but had silicone injections into her backside when she was 19 years old. Speaking about her reasons for getting plastic surgery procedures, Chyna said that much of it boiled down to 'insecurity', candidly sharing: 'Basically it's being insecure. 'As women, we want to look the best and like as fake as possible and plastic and everything needs to be perfect in this and that. But that's not normal, that comes from insecurity and different things of that sort and just being in that certain kind of life and lifestyle. 'So I'm kind of done with that type of lifestyle and I just want to step into my own and own it.'

Secrets of South Park Trump-Epstein episode that will further anger the White House
Secrets of South Park Trump-Epstein episode that will further anger the White House

Daily Mail​

time6 minutes ago

  • Daily Mail​

Secrets of South Park Trump-Epstein episode that will further anger the White House

Top brass at the entertainment conglomerate that airs South Park signed off on a controversial episode of the series that viciously mocked President Donald Trump while linking him to Jeffrey Epstein. Comedy Central owner Paramount Global's three co-CEOs all the watched the show's no-holds-barred season 27 premiere, which featured Trump in bed with Satan and a deepfake of the president wandering nude in the desert, Puck News reported. Chris McCarthy, George Cheeks, and Brian Robbins were leaning toward airing it before running by their boss, Paramount heiress Shari Redstone. Redstone reportedly didn't watch the episode but 'trusted [the executives'] judgment and would support their decision,' Puck News reported. The trio concluded it was OK, despite the episode taking on Paramount's $16 million settlement with Trump over a 60 Minutes interview with Kamala Harris and CBS canceling the Late Show with Stephen Colbert. The episode scandalously showed Trump in bed with Satan and later featured a deepfake of the president stripping down and bearing his 'teeny-tiny' penis. South Park creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker ultimately agreed to edit the scene, which showed an AI-generated depiction of a sweaty and nude Trump in the desert. On Thursday, the creators revealed how they battled with the network over the decision to show Trump's penis in the scene. On Thursday, the creators revealed how they battled with the network over the decision to show Trump's penis in the scene 'Trump: His penis is teeny-tiny, but his love for us is large,' flashes a line on screen. Parker explained how executives reacted. 'They're like, "OK, but we're gonna blur the penis,"' Parker recalled. 'I'm like, "No, you're not gonna blur the penis."' Stone added, '[So] we put eyes on the penis.' 'If we put eyes on the penis, we won't blur it. And then that was a whole conversation for about four f**king days,' Parker explained. 'It's a character.' The White House issued a scathing statement in response. 'This show hasn't been relevant for over 20 years and is hanging on by a thread with uninspired ideas in a desperate attempt for attention,' a portion read. The episode saw the president threaten the town South Park with an endless array of lawsuits. The threats were a clear reference to Trump's recent suits against ABC, The Wall Street Journal, and even Paramount, which some have criticized as baseless. Paramount found itself on Parker and Stone's bad side earlier this year, after it blocked a $1 billion deal Stone and Parker previously had with Paramount and HBO Max that would have allowed both platforms to air their series. Stone and Parker - known for standing up to networks and censors - said no, claiming Skydance boss David Ellison was trying to lower the market value of their show. The creators then secured a $1.5-billion exclusive streaming deal with Paramount this week. The deal also confirms 50 new episodes that will air on Comedy Central and stream exclusively on Paramount Plus over five years. The new season was originally slated to start July 9, but was delayed two weeks due to complications from the then ongoing merger.

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