The 100 best synthpop songs of 2025: 25 to 1

There’s a great quote in the final season of Stranger Things that I jotted down the moment I heard it: “Music has a way of finding you, even in the darkest of places.” That line captures how powerful music is to me and others who cling to it.

This has been a dark and difficult year. We witnessed an actual genocide take place right before our eyes. We watched the American government’s continuing onslaught against people of color. Those of us in the LGBTQ community felt our hard-won rights—our very existence—threatened. Even our music community hasn’t escaped this. The rapid ascent of certain Facebook groups (I’m not giving them any oxygen here) made me question if the safe spaces we’ve long cherished remain safe after all.

It’s dire. For months, I felt overwhelmed and gutted by it all. But somewhere along the way, something shifted. I rediscovered my hope—not naive optimism, but a genuine belief that progress will return, that life will improve for marginalized people, and that the good folks of our music scene mightily outnumber the ones who never truly understood it.

Music plays a large part in shifting my mood. There’s nothing more potent than a powerful song to validate your feelings, amplify your rage, break your heart wide open, or challenge your very outlook on the world around you. The songs that meant the most to me in 2025 were the ones that captured all those messy feelings I experienced this year. Fear. Anger. Despair. But above all else, hope.

Here we are. For the seventh year running, I present my 100 favorite songs of 2025. As always, each artist appears only once on the list so we can share the love. These were the songs that found me in the darkest of places.

The complete list:

• 100 to 76
• 75 to 51
• 50 to 26
• 25 to 01

I was looking forward to Bootblacks’ Paradise album long before it dropped because they made some lineup changes and released a few singles that hinted at a more synth-driven direction. They met my expectations with sublime songs like “Can You Feel It? (Anymore).” Panther Almqvist’s vocals sound echoey and thick with intrigue, floating through a densely layered mix of synths and guitars that feels rich and complex, never crowded. A sultry saxophone arrives late in the track, adding a touch of ’80s New Wave flair.

“Let This Moment Never End” serves as a reset for Germany’s Alienare, kicking off a new era with renewed maturity and confidence. With production from Gerrit Thomas—whose fingerprints are all over this year’s scene—the band delivers a straight-forward futurepop anthem built on thick, relentless beats with bursts of bubbly, breakneck synth lines. It’s an undeniable rush of feel-good energy, a joyful reminder to live fully in the moment.

International trio Pale Meridians released their much-anticipated debut album this year. “Your Only Friend” is my clear standout: warm, rich, textured synthpop that sounds thoroughly modern while channeling the spirit of the genre’s New Romantic roots. The song feels fresh and intimate, even joyful, a sharp contrast to its portrait of loneliness. Lines like “We are meant to die together” blur devotion and despair, wrapped in intricate synth layers and a subtle clapping riff that keeps the momentum running.

The German project Lights of Euphoria have spent the last few years releasing a run of radiant singles. “Machines of Light” feels like the culmination of it all—and quite possibly their signature song. The track wraps warm, gooey melodies around trance-inspired sounds, especially a swirling riff that recalls classic Paul van Dyk uplift. The lyrics glow with hard-earned optimism, subtle enough to feel universal, yet deeply affirming: “We are machines of light / Bound to love in the darkest night”

I’m normally very sensitive to depictions of suicide, so a song like “The End of Anna” should be too much for me. It tells the story of Anna, who puts a gun to her head in the opening line. But the great unknown Chicago band The Penthouse Plants tell it with easy-going charm. Rich, reverby keys and a jubilant synth riff glide through the song, giving it unexpected warmth and a strangely comforting glow. It’s too bad about Anna, though.

Swedish duo Cold Connection, who earned my picks for best new artist and best album of 2021, released just one song this year. “Forever and a Day” is warm and fun, noticeably brighter than last year’s “Voices of the Night.” Blips, bleeps, and bloops give it a lighter, bubbly feel, while Daniel Billqvist’s vocals remain steeped in luscious melancholy.

We didn’t get the long-awaited new CHROM album this year, but we did get “Beyond the Trees,” a beautiful reminder of what makes the German project special. Now a solo endeavor from Christian Marquis, CHROM slows things down with a simple, deeply effective ballad. Gorgeous melodies unfold with intimate prose about reuniting with someone you’ve lost.

If you’ve ever wondered what Kite might sound like with Annie Lennox on vocals, look no further than “Another” from new band Rymdverket (which means “the space agency”). The Swedish duo emerged as one of the most exciting new acts of the year with beautifully crafted songs like this one, a melancholic tune about the collapse of a once-great relationship. Singer Linda Ganters commands the track with a rich, moving contralto, rising effortlessly into a chorus that aches with heartbreak.

Sometimes it happens. Your favorite song on an album turns out to be its least popular—at least according to streaming numbers. That’s fine. On an album as stacked as Promenade Cinema’s Afterlife, everyone is bound to have their own standout. “Moonlight” is mine for its rumbling synths and the way it captures the album’s nocturnal theme. Emma Barson’s lovely, stirring vocals rise gracefully into the chorus, then later Dorian Cramm joins her for an electrified bridge that adds a jolt to the song. They told me they almost left this one off the album. I’m very glad they didn’t.

Who would have guessed that the best VNV Nation song of the year would be a featured spot on Chris Harms’ solo record? Ronan Harris guest appearances are rare, but he joins the Lord of the Lost frontman for a song not far removed from a VNV track. Twinkling pads. Charging beats. A subtle but resonant narrative about resisting authoritarianism, full of imaginative details like blue jumpsuits and new religions. From Chris Harms’ 1980 album, the track thrives with vintage charm—proof that VNV’s spirit sometimes shines brightest when filtered through someone else’s lens.

Swedish artist Tobias Bernstrup sets the tone for his seventh album with its title track, “Shadow Dancer,” a mysterious, darkly lit bit of synthpop that feels incredibly cinematic. The Italo disco elements he’s long championed surface here in subtler ways, refracted by a lead keyboard refrain awash in reverb that casts everything in a neon-drenched synthwave glow. Tobias’s vocals are icy and elegant as he sings about letting the darkness in, capturing the album’s core themes of performance, underground spaces, and the defiant beauty of alternative identities.

Sleek Teeth, last year’s pick for best new synthpop artist of the year, returned in 2025 to cement their status. “Same” once again showcases the California duo’s ability to weld moving synthpop melodies with thrilling EBM beats—especially those clanking hi-hats that are truly the beating heart of this song. Darkness and mystery hover over this track, rich with whispery vocals and lyrics about the secrets we tell ourselves.

NITE are twin brothers from Texas who enjoy a devoted fanbase, though I haven’t fully connected with the band until this year, thanks to their cover of The Cure’s “Burn” and this standout track from their new self-titled album. “Cries for Help” is utterly effervescent, all swirling synth arrangements whipped up in a maelstrom of electricity and charm. It’s practically aglow. The hook rips: “You keep on breaking piece by piece.” Consider me one of the devoted.

Dina Summer, a German project made up of members of Kalipo and Local Suicide, join forces with Curses and multi-instrumentalist Joshua Murphy for “Promise Me,” a highlight from their Girls Gang album. The collaboration plays like a true supergroup, blending Dina Summer’s sleek darkwave pulse with Murphy’s evocative guitar and Curses’ commanding vocals. Strumming guitars, thundering drums, and fluttering electronics build toward a cavernous chorus—“Promise me / please don’t miss me when I’m gone”—that recalls the grandeur of The Sisters of Mercy without slipping into imitation.

Swedish duo Rupesh Cartel returned this year with their first new album in 15 years. “Phantom Battles” opens the record with poise and momentum. It’s the most energetic cut, driven by a strong, steady beat and sleek, modern production, while capturing internal struggle with quiet precision. Its reflective chorus gives voice to the low-grade turmoil of everyday life: “We’re going down in phantom battles all the time / Keep fighting shadows all the time.”

Greek trio CYLiX was one of this year’s nicest surprises, a band I barely knew before they dropped a run of bangers and a solid album. “Devotion” is a dark, dramatic synthpop number built on a heavy, thumping beat and a big, sinister riff that tightens the screws in the verses before detonating into a massive chorus. It channels that moody mid-2000s club energy I can’t resist, the kind of track that would feel right at home alongside VNV Nation and Seabound.

Swedish duo Optic had an incredible run in 2024 and carried that momentum into 2025 with “A Weird Situation.” Sleek and introspective, the song pairs immersive, carefully sculpted synth programming with lyrics that wrestle with unease around artificial intelligence. Inspired by Kazuo Ishiguro’s Klara and the Sun, it unfolds patiently, but the payoff comes with lines that capture a quiet, cerebral dread that feels unsettlingly current: “Save me now from this unrelenting insanity—a man-made creation.”

Sjöblom’s “Weirdo” first appeared on last year’s Dead of Night, but the newly released “Universe Mix” reimagines the song as a synthpop banger. The jangly guitars have been replaced with lush electronic arrangements and a pulsing, vibrating synth riff. What remains intact is the heart of the song—a tender, romantic ode to the weirdo in your life. By reshaping it for the dancefloor, the Swedish indie project gives “Weirdo” new life and new reach.

One of the biggest stories of the year was the return of Fictional, super producer Gerrit Thomas’s long dormant synthpop project. Nearly 25 years after “Blue Lights” first rattled goth-industrial dancefloors, he released an album inspired by early Depeche Mode and featuring a roster of vocalists. “Crossroads,” with vocals from Rocco Schulschenk of N-Frequency, thrives on meticulous synth work, especially its pipe-clanking percussion that recalls the early days when producers sampled real metal and machinery.

Kite’s well-deserved ascent to global synthpop stardom has opened doors to increasingly ambitious performances—see Kite on Ice, their magnificent ice-skating show at Stockholm’s Avicii Arena—as well as top-notch guest collaborations. After last year’s epic dirge “Losing,” featuring Anna von Hausswolff and Henric de la Cour, they return with another inspired pairing on “Heartless Places.” Nicklas Stenemo’s voice is drenched in gauzy filters, then lifted by the radiant presence of Nina Persson of The Cardigans. The unexpected duet gives the song a fragile, luminous quality, intimate and distant all at once.

Vintage Voltage, the enigmatic Swedish duo known only as Chris Leaf and Pete Branch, let the music speak for itself, and it says plenty. Sleek synth lines glide over a modern, driving beat while sonar pings ripple through “Into the Void” like signals sent from the depths. Tender, romantic lyrics like “Even though I’m sad and scared” add a human ache beneath the surface. It’s a song that balances intimacy and mystery, cementing the duo as one of the best new acts in synthpop.

Alex Reed’s Seeming project explodes the boundaries of what one gifted musician can do with a couple of synthesizers and boundless talent. “Assassin’s Lovesong” is a quietly devastating track that unfurls slowly, guided by delicate keys and Alex’s stunning vocals. Clattering snares eventually arrive, lending the song a timeless elegance, while electronic currents rumble beneath, swelling at a few crucial moments. Part Irish folk lament, part end-times ballad, part apocalyptic narrative, but all achingly beautiful.

The Swedish/Norwegian duo The Sound Veil Society is my pick for best new synthpop act of the year, an honor that largely rests on “The River,” their stunning debut single. Longtime collaborators Erlend Eilertsen and Hasse Mattsson conjure lush, warm, and deeply romantic sounds from cascading synths soaked in reverb and vocals that feel both intimate and expansive. This song should appeal instantly to fans of Kite, though The Sound Veil Society take a smoother, more meditative path. “The River” is an instant classic and a remarkable introduction to a new presence in synthpop.

There’s no shortage of songs on Assemblage 23’s excellent Null album that could land this high, but “Believe” earns its spot by how perfectly it soundtracks 2025. Released just a month after the cynical, defiant “Tolerate,” it was a shock notice that Null wouldn’t wallow in apathy after all. Instead, Tom Shear doubled down on hope—reminding us that there’s still good left in the world, even in a year this brutal. Built on his trademark electronic swirls and a hard-charging kick drum, the song reaches its climax in the chorus, when his voice hits with stunning intensity: “So… I… refuse.”

It was an open question whether Isaac Howlett could move on from Empathy Test as a solo artist and continue to deliver the same emotionally resonant, superbly crafted synthpop. With a run of singles this year, he not only answered it, he obliterated it. “Spiralling,” his collaboration with A State of Flux, exemplifies his evolution, preserving his vulnerability and magnificent voice while opening the door to fresh sounds and newfound range. Among throbbing, almost club-ready beats, Isaac tackles mental illness with raw gusto and hooks galore—“Depression runs in the men on my mother’s side” and “I know this is hurting you.” It’s a powerful song, but even a powerful song can become something extraordinary with a single unexpected moment, a flash of studio magic. With barely a minute to go, the synths erupt like fireworks, transforming the track into a whirling dervish of energy and emotion. In a year defined by anxiety and fear, “Spiralling” captures the mood with devastating clarity.