The 100 best synthpop songs of 2025: 50 to 26

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

The Swiss-Dutch duo BLACKBOOK released seven songs this year—nearly enough for a full album. I suspect it’s coming in 2026. “Suffer in Silence” remains my favorite of the set for the way it wallows in pure unadulterated melancholy. This pity party for one plays out over a thumping beat, awash in spirited synth arrangements and lovely New Waves melodies. Sometimes, you just need a moment alone to feel miserable. BLACKBOOK got you.

Arizona’s Paper Foxes have been releasing music since at least 2015, but they’re new to me this year. What an awesome discovery. “Lights Out” is a dark synthpop tune built on a throbbing beat, but the real highlight is a mesmerizing keyboard refrain that rises and falls in a playful, hypnotic pattern. It’s an addictive club anthem that celebrate the after-hours. I will be keeping a close eye on these guys going forward.

What an incredible year Lizette Lizette had. The nonbinary icon from Sweden performed at Infest, made their U.S. debut, and released their fourth album, LaQueer. Though the album was preceded by two excellent singles, “Work” and “Die,” I live for the slow, thumping rhythm of “No Turning Back.” Its sharp, ping-ponging synth riff is among my favorite musical cues of the year.

California trio Matte Blvck wasted no time following up their boundary-pushing 2024 album Vows, my top album of the year, with “Soulless.” Pummeling rhythms and dense, shifting percussion drive the song forward, showcasing the band’s gift for building intensity through layered arrangements. That force is balanced by Alex Gonzales’s intimate vocals, giving the track a compelling tension between power and vulnerability.

Over two fantastic albums, Nuovo Testamento revived the plinking staccato sounds of ’80s Italo. They returned this year with a new EP that—surprise!—jumps ahead a decade. Trouble integrates elements of ’90s house, especially the unmistakable Korg M1 tones we know from classics like Robin S’s “Show Me Love.” “Dream On,” the EP’s clear standout, is pure joy—an irresistible rush of fun with charming vocals from Chelsey Crowley about embracing your individuality.

Sweden’s electro queen Emmon drops a club-ready jolt with “Shades of Blue,” a standout from her excellent ICON album. A thumping EBM beat and pipe-clanking percussion give the track its industrial bite, while its sharp, crisp production keeps everything tight and kinetic. It also doubles as a full-on sing-along, thanks to a sticky chorus: “I can see darkness around you / I can see all the shades of blue.”

Austrian duo Lucy Dreams continue to impress with “Be Here Now,” the first single from their upcoming 2026 album. The track is anchored by a deep, knob-twisting synth squiggle that rumbles beneath whispery vocals and delicate, tinkling keys. It’s lush and organic, hypnotic and dreamy, the kind of song that makes you feel like floating.

“I’m bruised, but I’m alive,” the powerful hook from Massive Ego’s comeback single, is a superb mantra for anyone who’s ever experienced hardship. It’s also a nice summary of Massive Ego’s own journey. The UK band called it quits in 2022 for leader Marc Massive to focus on his mental health, but they’re back from the dead. Bolstered by flashes of guitar from former Rosetta Stone guitarist Porl Young, the new sound bristles with energy and purposes. Yet it that’s first-person perspective that makes “(My) Death Song” feel so authentic and empowering.

“Turn to Dust,” from Oregon-based artist Dancing Plague, is industrial-tinged darkwave steeped in personal turmoil. The track thrives on stark contrast—rumbling bass and cavernous, love-’em-or-hate-’em vocals from Conor Knowles pressed against sharp, high-pitched synth lines that cut through the gloom. When the music briefly drops out before slamming back in for the chorus (“I turn to dust”), it hits like a gasp for air.

Collaborations remain a commanding presence on this list—last year they practically dominated it. “Amnesia” finds German futurepop duo Frozen Plasma joining forces with electro veterans SITD for a bustling dancefloor banger comprised of Felix Marc’s sweet, melodic vocals locked in tension with Carsten Jacek’s harsh, aggrotech delivery. Producer Vasi Vallis pits these opposing styles against each other, turning the song into a gripping back-and-forth.

Swedish duo Hatif have carved out a niche in modern synthpop by weaving Middle Eastern motifs into their electronic framework. “Take the Bait” is a moody and immersive slow-burner that rewards close listening. A stuttering, off-kilter beat pulses beneath shadowy synth layers, while the vocals arrive hushed and commanding, lending the track its haunting pull.

“You” is a delightful synthpop confection from Swedish duo E:lect. Playful sound design sends xylophone-like blips and beep-boops skipping across the mix, giving the song its infectious energy. It makes you feel all fuzzy and romantic thanks to genuinely moving lines like: “As long as you are here / Nothing will bring me down.”

“Buried Alive” arrived as a pre-release single from BlakLight’s highly anticipated fourth album, which finally landed in early December. Perhaps it stands out because I’ve sat with it longer than the rest, but it’s undeniably a superb song. Dark synthpop tones and even majestic, choral-like flourishes give it depth and dimension. Brian Belknap’s sharp songwriting pairs vivid lines like “This will be the last time / I set my soul on fire” with a chorus that cleverly pivots between “buried alive” and “barely alive.”

Irish producer OWLS gets things dark and dramatic on “Give Me Your Stare,” a brooding highlight from his debut LP Death Games. Gauzy vocals drift over a minimalist beat, while clanking percussion and an unsettling bell-like chime sharpen the song’s mysterious allure. It’s somber and hypnotic, paced just right to coax ghostly apparitions onto a nocturnal dancefloor.

Coming off a huge run of 2024 bangers, California duo Die Sexual spent 2025 taking their energetic show on the road, including a high-profile tour with the legendary My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult. “Magic Never Dies” continues their exploration of BDSM-tinged, hard-hitting club music, powered by seductive, high-energy beats and sultry lyrics.

Swedish trio PART2 remain quietly under the radar, releasing only a few songs each year but with remarkable consistency. “Everytime I Close My Eyes” is an elegant synthpop delicacy, built on a steady, pulsing beat and subtly shifting synth tones that move with graceful charm. The real centerpiece is the sentimental vocal, floating above the mix with raw, delicate emotion.

Mari Kattman is a versatile, genre-busting American artist with serious songwriting and production chops. On “Anemia,” she’s miraculously made a club banger out of an actual medical condition but infused it with some subtle exploration of male gaze and defiance. It’s built on a slinky, pressure-cooked groove, but when that towering techno synth riff detonates out of the beat, the song stakes its claim as a massive, big-room anthem.

“Breathing” is a quietly devastating thriller from Swedish duo White Birches. A steady, unrelenting beat locks the song into a hypnotic pulse, while subtle synth builds and a siren-like refrain drift across the mix. Jenny Gabrielsson Mare’s lovely, soothing vocals weave seamlessly into the soundscape, then rise into an understated frenzy on the chorus of “I’mmmmm… breathing.” It’s beautiful and sinister all at once.

“Heaven Is a State of Mind” finds New York artist Travis Egedy steering his Pictureplane project in a striking new direction. Known for abrasive noise-pop with witchhouse edges, he strips things back here for pure gothic pop. The shimmering opening synths and romantic melodies nod to Depeche Mode’s Music for the Masses era. It’s subdued yet celestial—a dreamy, atmospheric take on nirvana that proves just how natural this softer synthpop mode feels on him.

Having a rough day? Winter doldrums got you down? Spend five minutes with X Marks the Pedwalk’s “Light Your Mind,” and you’ll immediately feel uplifted. The legendary German project’s first single from their 13th studio album, Insomnia, is quite possibly the most glowing, exuberant song they’ve ever released. A delightful, forward-moving groove carries warm, euphoric vocals about lifting your spirits, turning the track into a rush of pure synthpop positivity.

Every VNV Nation album has what I call the outer-space song. On Construct, it’s “Station 21,” an end-times narrative about a radio operator trying to contact Earth’s remaining inhabitants. A swirling synth riff propels the track forward with joyous momentum, as lines like “the war of silicon machines” and “are you busy firing rockets at the sun” paint vivid sci-fi imagery. Like the best VNV songs, “Station 21” is really a front for human emotion, grief in this case. “Are you as happy as I remember?” lands hard for anyone who’s lost someone they cherished.

Code 64’s “The Running Man” clicked for me in a very specific place: MetroShock, Baltimore’s longest running dark dance party. I liked it from the moment I heard it—its soft vocals give pop structure to what’s otherwise pure afterhours trance, a euphoric rush of swirling arpeggios and a cool, pulsing beat. But I wasn’t sure it fit my format. Then I heard it on the dancefloor, booming through the system under spinning lights, and any doubt vanished. That moment felt colossal—a blissed out reminder that good music transcends easy boundaries.

Swedish mystery collective The Brides of the Black Room slip into something seductive on “Tension Rises,” a sultry number with gorgeous vocals from bandmember Ghostheart. Smoky synths and a slightly bluesy undercurrent give the song a lounge-like elegance, recalling Martin Gore’s forays into electronic blues. Heartfelt and cinematic, it’s the kind of song that feels made for a dramatic film’s closing credits.

In a year when hope was in short supply, German icons Rotersand reminded us: “Don’t stop believing / Your spirit can rise / Above the ashes.” It’s a nice callback to their previous album’s bouncy club anthem “Hot Ashes,” which found us dancing on the hearts of fascists. They’re less feisty this outing, leaning into introspection and self-improvement. “Don’t Stop Believing” is a dose of comforting confidence that conveys that shift with swirling electronics, a rumbling beat, and a much-needed sense of optimism.

True NIN heads might scoff, but the Ghosts series, The Slip, even Hesitation Marks never landed for me, and Bad Witch—especially Bad Witch—left me cold. These days, I’m more apt to listen to their award-winning film score work as Reznor-Ross. But Nine Inch Nails is a band capable of making sharp left turns, like releasing a Tron soundtrack under the NIN moniker. “As Alive As You Need Me to Be” anchors the soundtrack with quaking drum beats, blissed-out electronics, and pop refrains that feel more akin to their earlier work than anything recent. It’s the best NIN song in at least 20 years.