When this decade began, MP3s still reigned supreme. Now, at the end of it, a song is no longer even a file — it’s ephemera, on every streaming service and available to hear in myriad ways. For better and worse, the song (and the single) have become the norm for the general public’s music consumption. As culture continues to flatten out, songs can become iconic and inescapable overnight; it’s also become more difficult to get heard amidst all the noise. But the best way a song exists is still with the memories you make along with it: riding around in your car or heading out to a party with friends or sitting in your room alone, letting the music become part of the fabric of your life.
It’s been a long 10 years, and to pretend that only 200 songs could capture every facet of the music that was released during the decade would be foolish. But we’ve selected tracks that we feel are representative of the decade as a whole, songs that have stayed with us throughout these last 10 years and songs that we think will stick with us long after the decade is over. Dig into our list of the 200 best songs of the 2010s below and, as always, head down to the comments to share your own. —James Rettig
200 Diarrhea Planet – “Separations”
The dearly departed and ridiculously named Diarrhea Planet left behind a small but memorable catalog, with surprisingly poignant tracks like “Kids” and “Let It Out.” But it’s the ragers like “Separations” that provide the most direct euphoric recall of their unbridled, implausibly life-affirming live shows, the stuff that made them local legends in one tiny corner of this decade’s rock scenes. —Ryan Leas [HEAR IT]
199 Le1f – “Wut”
Le1f never quite broke out into stardom. But the queer New York rapper still gave us an entertaining star turn with “Wut,” an ingeniously constructed banger of horn-honks and hand-claps centered around a wonderfully nonsensical chorus: “Wut it is wut is up wut is wut/ Wut it do wut it don’t.” —Peter Helman [HEAR IT]
198 Frankie Cosmos – “Birthday Song”
“Just because I am a certain age/ Doesn’t mean that I am any older/ Than I was yesterday.” Greta Kline is the poet laureate of New York DIY, churning out songs at a non-stop pace that all contain little nuggets of absolute genius, like that opening line from “Birthday Song.” It’s only a minute long, but it feels like an entire world, her ideas so simple yet so incredibly dense and rewarding. —James Rettig [HEAR IT]
197 Wavves – “Green Eyes”
On his third album as Wavves, King Of The Beach, Nathan Williams channeled the California nihilism that popularized pop-punk in the mid ’80s and early ’90s. It’s a wildly fun exercise in aimless rebellion and sun-soaked self-loathing. “Green Eyes” is its climax, a misanthropic love song. Twinkling glockenspiels and chugging guitars accompany his disposition, fluctuating between “Green eyes, I’d run away with you” and “My own friends hate my guts.” Even when things are good, they’re still bad. Life is a beach and the beach sucks. —Julia Gray [HEAR IT]
196 Katie Dey – “fear o the dark”
Katie Dey’s music often sounds like it’s being ripped apart from both ends, and “fear o the dark” is a great example of that. Dey’s voice is stretched like taffy, placed against some guitar strums that sound utterly alien. It’s impossible to figure out exactly how Dey puts together her songs, but the finished product is never less than thrilling and entirely unique. —James Rettig [HEAR IT]
195 TNGHT – “R U Ready”
Hudson Mohawke and Lunice were early to the party for maximalist pop. The handful of tracks they made together as TNGHT have the power to shake buildings out of their foundations. “R U Ready” is one of their most skillful, fully-realized compositions. It famously served as the bed for Kanye West’s “Blood On The Leaves,” but on its own it’s just as invigorating: an instrumental with boundless energy, an undeniable attitude and swagger. —James Rettig [HEAR IT]
194 All Dogs – “That Kind Of Girl”
“That Kind Of Girl” is All Dogs at their best: bright, narrative pop-punk that combines vulnerability with catharsis. “If you’re wanting something else, then that’s all you have to say,” sings Maryn Jones, voicing the hurt that comes from finding out you’ve been labeled defective, before returning to a focal point of rage: “Stay away from me/ What’s that mean?” —NM Mashurov [HEAR IT]
193 Downtown Boys – “Monstro”
“Why is it that we never have enough with just what’s inside of us?” Victoria Ruiz asks at the start of “Monstro,” asserting herself as the Providence band’s invigorating punk preacher. Downtown Boys whip themselves into a fury, rapid-fire drumming and brassy sax and Ruiz’s incantations of “She’s brown! She’s smart!” churning into a glorious cacophony, the fiery continuation of a revolution. —James Rettig [HEAR IT]
192 The Hotelier – “An Introduction To The Album”
The Hotelier’s Home, Like Noplace Is There punches you in the gut, nurses you back to health, and then hits you again. Christian Holden nearly drowns in isolation and trauma, but a sense of communal despair keeps them afloat and treading water. On the opening track, appropriately titled “An Introduction To The Album,” Holden begins to trace their existential angst before the Hotelier break into a moment of unbounded release. “And the pills that you gave didn’t do anything, I just slept for years on end,” Holden shouts at the boiling point. “Fuck!” Fuck indeed. —Julia Gray [HEAR IT]
191 Girl Band – “Lawman”
Before they helped influence a new wave of experimental-leaning Irish and English guitar bands, and before two albums worth of increasingly complex and sound-melting compositions, Dublin’s Girl Band released a handful of singles that represented a complete realization of their intense, punchline-laden, noisy assault. “Lawman” remains the best of them, both corroded and infectious, with Dara Kiely’s drawled-then-screamed remembrance “I used to be good looking beside her!” still one of the band’s most affecting moments. —Ryan Leas [HEAR IT]
190 Best Coast – “Boyfriend”
On the opener of her debut album, Best Coast’s Bethany Cosentino doesn’t mince words: “I wish he was my boyfriend,” she sighs over washed-out surf-rock chords. Unrequited love delivered in song might be about as original as florals in spring, but Cosentino’s painfully relatable lyrics (who among us hasn’t pined?), combined with that yearning minor-chord melody, made “Boyfriend” one of the first instant classics of the ’10s. —Rachel Brodsky [HEAR IT]
189 Speedy Ortiz – “No Below”
Boston was filled with some truly great bands at the start of the decade, and all of them were looking at Speedy Ortiz to figure out what to do next. The group, led by Sadie Dupuis, perfected the knotted, emotional catharsis that would come to define the city’s music scene. While “No Below” is one of their slower songs, it’s also perfect, a chill-inducing paean to youth and lost opportunities. —James Rettig [HEAR IT]
188 Polo G – “Pop Out” (Feat. Lil Tjay)
It hits like a drug: a deep and mesmerizing singsong about how Polo G is going to rob everyone at your party. Over a florid piano and a backfiring 808, Polo G and Lil Tjay improvise tiny, bloodthirsty melodies, delivering them with guttural and bluesy verve, using them to describe violence and desperation: “Made some choices in my life I wish I’d never had to make.” —Tom Breihan [HEAR IT]
187 The Weather Station – “Thirty”
The best song on Tamara Lindeman’s best album yet as the Weather Station, “Thirty” is a matter-of-fact but resounding meditation on age. Snapshots both weighty and banal rush by, from mental health and strained relationships to the price of gasoline. Lindeman narrates with a wisdom beyond the titular age, acknowledging just another year has passed without losing a sense of vital, furious attention to living — feeling the years blur while still noticing “fucking everything.” —Ryan Leas [HEAR IT]
186 Yaeji – “Raingurl”
Yaeji crafted a dancefloor vocabulary with tacit rave touchstones on her introvert-out-of-hiding breakout hit. “Mother Russia in my cup,” she deadpanned amidst concentrated electro glitz and past-curfew thumps. Family planning, and all inhibitions, are best left outside the club when “Raingurl” makes its torrential, exhilarating landfall. —Connor Duffey [HEAR IT]
185 Pure Bathing Culture – “Pendulum”
Over three albums, Pure Bathing Culture have mastered a blend of woozy soft rock and lachrymose dream-pop. Though their work would get punchier over time, early highlights like “Pendulum” have a washed-out and hazy beauty to them, like calming rituals unfolding on some astral plane. —Ryan Leas [HEAR IT]
184 Zedd – “Clarity” (Feat. Foxes)
Zedd’s 2012 single “Clarity” was instrumental in the EDM-pop crossover, following songs like Avicii’s “Levels” and Benny Benassi’s “Cinema” in proving the genre’s mainstream potential. Foxes’ rousing pleas soaring above Zedd’s prog-house explosions is enough to inspire a singalong or, just as easily, facilitate an out-of-body experience. —Julia Gray [HEAR IT]
183 Girlpool – “Before The World Was Big”
Girlpool have a remarkable way of exposing your inner child. Their debut album’s title track, “Before The World Was Big,” paints a nostalgic childhood photo. The duo describes its old neighborhood in youthful high-pitched hyperbole, “wearing matching dresses” and circling the streets “one hundred one million billion trillion times.” Like the album, it’s filled with wide-eyed wonder and hope in hindsight, but shaded by the innate fear and confusion that we carry throughout our lives. —Julia Gray [HEAR IT]
182 Colleen Green – “TV”
“TV is my friend,” Colleen Green sings. “And it has been/ Always there for me/ In times of need.” Her noise-pop ode to prioritizing television over actual human connection, “TV” is both tongue-in-cheek and deadly serious, a painfully relatable modern sentiment for loners and pop-culture addicts alike. —Peter Helman [HEAR IT]
181 Mac DeMarco – “Chamber Of Reflection”
Mac DeMarco has cooked up some great songs on guitar, but his greatest achievement may be a synth hallucination that demarcates the blurry line between chillwave and avant-garde hip-hop instrumentals. The further you retreat from consciousness, the better it sounds. —Chris DeVille [HEAR IT]
180 Flying Lotus – “Never Catch Me” (Feat. Kendrick Lamar)
There are more quintessential FlyLo songs than “Never Catch Me,” but none of them marry his sensibilities with a flow so worthy of his exquisitely layered and textured soundscapes. FlyLo’s quirky electro jazz fusion is matched perfectly by Lamar’s machine-like cadence. We need that FlyLo-produced Kendrick album, like, yesterday. —Collin Robinson [HEAR IT]
179 Cloud Nothings – “Wasted Days”
Dylan Baldi has written lots of great songs at the intersection of pop, punk, and indie rock, but his crowning achievement remains these nine minutes of body-clenching tension, carried along by a mantra that will resonate with anyone who’s ever disappointed themselves: “I thought I would be more than this!” —Chris DeVille [HEAR IT]
178 Paramore – “Hard Times”
After trickling into full-fledged pop territory on bouncy 2013 singles like “Ain’t It Fun” and “Still Into You,” punk/emo idols Paramore broke new ground in 2017 on the distinctly new wave “Hard Times,” a bubblegummy meditation on depression bolstered by Hayley Williams’ signature wail. With its ultra-transparent lyrics and dance-till-you-cry ethos, “Hard Times” reminds us that every “little rain cloud” contains a silver lining. —Rachel Brodsky [HEAR IT]
177 Young M.A. – “Ooouuu”
“Ooouuu” is a vintage Brooklyn banger, the kind of hardhead bluster-anthem that Funkmaster Flex would’ve bombed all over the Tunnel. And it’s delivered, with an unshakably confident snarl, by a young woman enthusiastic about displaying both her gun and her dildo. The queerness of “Ooouuu” is a feature, not a bug. New York rap never died; it just came out. —Tom Breihan [HEAR IT]
176 Lucy Dacus – “Night Shift”
One of the decade’s most epic kiss-offs to an ex-lover reaches its climax when the band drops out and Lucy Dacus declares: “You got a 9 to 5, so I’ll take the night shift/ And I’ll never see you again if I can help it.” The ensuing finale will give you chills, be it in the privacy of your headphones or a room full of people howling along. —Chris DeVille [HEAR IT]
175 Jason Isbell – “Cover Me Up”
Newly sober and dizzy in love, a former Drive-By Trucker wrote a song for the woman who’d helped him make it out to the other side of his self-inflicted annihilation, owning up to his own sins and politely requesting some quality time: “We ain’t leaving this room till someone needs medical help, or the magnolias bloom.” If Jason Isbell ever had a star-making moment — and let’s be clear, he’s a star — it was this, a country-rock standard for a time when country-rock standards are so often thought obsolete. —Tom Breihan [HEAR IT]
174 Tirzah – “Gladly”
Tirzah’s debut album Devotion, which she made alongside Mica Levi, plays out like love ossified in amber. “Gladly” is a lesson in beautiful simplicity, the beat lapping at the shores and Tirzah approaching this love with a hymnal reverence: “All I want is you/ I love you/ Gladly, gladly, gladly,” her voice melting into a warm balm. —James Rettig [HEAR IT]
173 Denzel Curry – “RICKY”
Denzel Curry has been hailed as the father of the dark, experimental, often ugly subgenre known as SoundCloud rap, but this assertion of loyalty to his friends and family proves he’s just as good at contagiously fun windows-down summertime bangers. Best line: “My daddy said, ‘Treat young girls like your mother’/ My momma said, ‘Trust no ho, use a rubber.'” —Chris DeVille [HEAR IT]
172 Strand Of Oaks – “JM”
“JM” — the volcanic centerpiece of Heal, the album on which Tim Showalter truly came into his own — is a tribute to the late Jason Molina. Moving with the heaviness of grief, it still manages to hold on to what artists leave behind. Showalter sang about music that was there for him when he was at his most desperate, and in turn wrote a song that would be there for others at their most desperate, too. —Ryan Leas [HEAR IT]
171 Death Grips – “I’ve Seen Footage”
When they were swallowed up by major label machine Epic, Death Grips stayed down like a bottle of ipecac, but “I’ve Seen Footage” remains the group’s intoxicating stroke of pop genius. Hijacking the beat to Salt-N-Pepa’s “Push It,” MC Ride leers like a voyeuristic deep web demon, painting a nightmarish picture of desensitization in the internet age with their best hook and a catchphrase truly worthy of our anxious era. Fuck “YOLO” — stay noided. —Miles Bowe [HEAR IT]
170 Brockhampton – “Gummy”
Brockhampton boast a sizable crew, each member with his own idiosyncrasies and strengths, but the alt-rap “boy band” has made its singular vision clear from the start. “Gummy,” from 2017’s SATURATION II, is like a re-introduction to the group’s diverse cast of characters. Everyone has a turn to showcase his style. Stacked atop one another, the verses highlight their collective vibe, hard and surreal. —Julia Gray [HEAR IT]
169 Jenny Lewis – “She’s Not Me”
We demand female songwriters be attractive, sympathetic, and relatable in heartbreak — flattering mirrors for our own. No one’s ever refused this paradigm as wholesale as Jenny Lewis does on “She’s Not Me.” She holds nothing back, owning bitterness, jealousy, infidelity, naiveté, lust, and misery. Her excruciating confessions are perfectly accentuated by the ironically breezy ’70s California-rock hooks. Her transgression carves out just a little more space for human messiness. —Jael Goldfine [HEAR IT]
168 Charlotte Gainsbourg – “Deadly Valentine”
Not to play into stereotypes, but there is something so incredibly French about “Deadly Valentine” and its ability to be sexy, cool, and heartbroken all at once. A swirling synth-pop song from the matured perspective of a middle-aged Gainsbourg, it fights back against the world-weariness of age and all its accumulative struggles by seizing onto a dream newly lush and newly invigorated, abandoning mourning for the thump of a nightclub’s never-ending pulse. —Ryan Leas [HEAR IT]
167 Blood Orange – “Best To You” (Feat. Empress Of)
This stellar Dev Hynes and Empress Of collaboration depicts a one-sided relationship and the process of losing your identity in that dedication. The way Empress Of delivers the chorus line “I can’t be the only one,” especially the fluttering accentuation on “one,” has become one of the decade’s most memorable vocal runs to make the rounds in the indie sphere. —Keely Quinlan [HEAR IT]
166 YG & Nipsey Hussle – “FDT”
With a chant, YG and Nipsey Hussle draw a line and galvanize it into something righteous. There’s a way Nipsey asks “Nigga am I trippin’? Let me know” — like he’s dapping up his boy after seeing five minutes of CNN on the way out of the crib — that speaks directly to the apathy felt during the lead-up to the 2016 election. What makes the Compton duo’s blunt “FDT” one of the most important artifacts of its time is how its stars don’t present themselves virtuously enough to pretend to understand how it all went wrong. —Brian Josephs [HEAR IT]
165 Soccer Mommy – “Scorpio Rising”
To astrology amateurs, “Scorpio Rising” might conjure revenge. But those with the notorious sign as their rising (rather than their sun) are rumored to have a unique capacity for herculean personal growth. As such, Sophie Allison’s quietly knotted song is about a heartbreaking surrender. She plunges you into infatuation, then unravels it before your eyes, accepting a love’s cosmic ill-fatedness without ever minimizing how badly it hurts. Regardless of your thoughts on astrology, it’s a lesson in grace. —Jael Goldfine [HEAR IT]
