The 45 best albums of 2025

Love and a deep sense of unique artistry underscore Venezuelan multimedia artist Andrea Aguilar’s musical project Letters From My Garden. ‘Lagrimas de ma Primavera’ was a delightful sonic trip through her mystical universe and a stunning debut. Annie Barber.

Aya’s ‘Hexed!’ was a fearless burst of energy, offering dark synths, intense hooks, and raw vocals. Across 10 tracks, the experimentalist succeeded in creating a frenzied yet magnetic atmosphere, confronting themes of addiction and self-destruction. Arusa Qureshi.

Glasgow post-punk duo Ray Aggs and Eilidh Rodgers returned triumphantly with ‘Jump Into Life’, an album full of buoyant guitar lines and cathartic drums, overall placing emphasis on their penchant for rich and infectious soundscapes. Arusa Qureshi

In an era of Bedale’s and Brit School alumni domination, Panic Shack are keeping it real. The Welsh punk quartet’s self-titled debut was the perfect on-the-nose soundtrack to a big girls’ night out. The joyous but whip-smart album was littered with references that dog-ear the life of any millennial hun, from Gok Wan to Thelma & Louise. It’s witty, it’s funky, and above all, it’s a joyous celebration of friendship, womanhood, and general badassery. Geena Ling.

The weightlessness in Ichiko Aoba’s concoction of sound was what made ‘Luminescent Creatures’ a subtly beautiful, mystical listening experience. Every element was thought out with razor-sharp precision. With whisper-soft vocals, twinkly keys and gentle strings, the dreamlike album was as soothing and calm as music gets. Geena Ling

People contain multitudes, and on ‘Woman Of Faces’, Celeste refused to let hers be streamlined. Still showcasing her phenomenal vocal prowess and leaning towards old-school jazz, it added in gorgeous strings and curveball moments to open the door for a future that could – and, judging from her recent interviews, likely will – go anywhere. Lisa Wright.

The LA sisters’ first new album in five years arrived with a reinvigorated soft-rock edge to their hazy alt-pop sound as they regaled us with exasperated tales on modern dating. From the utterly fed-up ‘Relationships’ to the no-holds-barred ‘Blood On The Street’, this was a totally compelling case for singledom. Hannah Mylrea.

James K’s ‘Friend’ – the New York artist’s third album – reframed her once-hermetic sound, threading dream-pop clarity through the shifting terrain of drum’n’bass, IDM and shoegaze. Tracks such as ‘Play’ revealed a sharper, quietly commanding artist, inviting us into her world. Charlotte Gunn

Indigo De Souza’s ‘Precipice’ sharpened her volatile, rough-edged indie rock into bolder, cleaner shapes, letting her unpredictable voice carry real emotional stakes. Amid personal upheaval, she chased bigger feelings and bigger hooks – ‘Heartthrob’ proved she could hit them without losing her raw nerve and ‘Crush’ was utter pop perfection. Charlotte Gunn

The first time that Michelle Zauner has fully recorded in a professional studio environment, her fourth Japanese Breakfast album utilised these new tools and put them to work on an album full of strings, steel guitars and classy sonic wistfulness. Laced around stories of classical love and capital-b Big Themes, it saw Zauner evolve in a tasteful new way. Lisa Wright.

At a time where trans people are often cruelly spoken for rather than to, Jasmine 4.t’s debut album was a painstaking reminder of all the beautiful things that can grow from self-acceptance: love, community, a life reclaimed from PTSD-related disassociations in the Tesco freezer aisle. Boygenius’ scuzzy production was the cherry on top. Jenessa Williams.

Sometimes, you can actively hear when a band decides to remove their own barriers and just go for it. Such was the sound of ‘Some Like It Hot’: a record that maintained the eclecticism and three-way alchemy of Bar Italia’s previous work, but threw in some stone cold bangers (‘Cowbella’, ‘Fundraiser’) and the sense of a group unashamed to dream big. Lisa Wright.

Parasites & Butterflies’ was a head-on collision of punk, R&B and electronica. Duo Amy Love and Georgia South showcased a mature, honed style on their third album. The chaotic yet cohesive record swings wildly between hard-hitting riffs and glitchy dubstep drops, all the while demonstrating lyrical deftness, giving equal dues to political roar and emotional vulnerability. Geena Ling.

‘Slowly, It Dawns’ unfolded with tender precision. Victoria Canal’s trademark hushed vocals and spacious arrangements came together beautifully across this debut with a real sense of warmth, in order to explore transformation and vulnerability. Arusa Qureshi.

Skin was the era-defining frontwoman who challenged all the expectations of a rock ‘n’ roll star back in the ‘90s. 30 years on, she defies convention just as fiercely as on Skunk Anansie’s debut, ‘Paranoid & Sunburnt’ ‘The Painful Truth’ was an album of both consolidation and reflection; the band stick to their grunge rock guns on ‘An Artist Is An Artist,’ and explore a softer, funkier sound on ‘Fell In Love With A Girl.’ Geena Ling.

Icy, electronic-infused post punk from a singer obsessed with World War II fighter planes might not sound like a traditional recipe for a good time, but ‘Glutton For Punishment’ upended that theory entirely. A world-building debut full of gothic drama and industrial walls of noise, it drilled hooks into songs about anxiety and found darkly danceable moments in the bleakest of corners. Lisa Wright.

‘Tether’ was a record for those who simply wanted to hear an inimitable new vocalist at work. Built around a raw acoustic guitar, Annahstasia’s sprawling delivery dialled into fresh folk frequencies; sometimes a low growl, sometimes an operatic hum, but always liable to put a lump in your throat. Jenessa Williams.

Marking a new era for Leikeli47 as she performs without a mask for the first time, ‘Lei Keli ft. 47 / For Promotional Use Only’ was a razor-sharp fourth album, uniting dancefloor energy and autobiographical grit into an incisive celebration of self-made power. Arusa Qureshi.

Following up the cultural behemoth of ‘Prioritise Pleasure’ was no easy feat, but Rebecca Lucy Taylor achieved it in classic Self Esteem style: with empowerment, rage, resignation, and an entire song listing the benefits of various sex positions (‘69’). With guest vocals from Nadine Shah and Moonchild Sanelly, ‘A Complicated Woman’ also widened her tribe in style. Lisa Wright.

A loved-up Lucy Dacus wrote a gift of a record about falling in love with her boygenius bandmate, Julien Baker. From the tenderness of ‘Big Deal’ to horny anthem, ‘Ankles’, Dacus took us on a journey from forbidden love to something ‘For Keeps’, with lyrics that peeled back more layers with every listen. Charlotte Gunn.

Wednesday’s ‘Bleeds’ was a raw, electrifying portrait of heartbreak, tangled histories and small-town ghosts from the North Carolina kings. Tracks like ‘Elderberry Wine’ and ‘Carolina Murder Suicide’ cut the deepest, with Karly Hartzman’s vivid writing and the band’s blistered tenderness turning personal wreckage into something fiercely alive. Charlotte Gunn

A visceral and weary interrogation of the inherited ideas and past experiences that formed her, on ‘If You Asked For A Picture’ Sabrina Teitelbaum painted a very raw, very real one of life in her mid-twenties. From maternal relationships in ‘What’s Fair’ to the heavy baggage of ‘Event Of A Fire’, it dug deep, packaging her excavations in ‘90s-infused indie-rock born for cathartic gig singalongs. Lisa Wright.

There was something utterly visceral about ‘Virgin’ in both sound and subject matter, as Lorde’s raw vocals grated up against jagged beats and warped up synths, going deep on everything from gender identity and toxic relationships to body politics and eating disorders. A gritty, vulnerable return to her very best. Hollie Geraghty.

Punk is well and truly alive in 2025, largely thanks to Lambrini Girls. With raucous guitars and fiercely growled vocals, ‘Who Let The Dogs Out’ was a holy grail for female rage. You can practically see frontwoman Phoebe Lunny swinging from the stage set and diving from the bar as the deliciously unpolished debut plays out, confronting all manner of grievances from diet culture to toxic masculinity. Geena Ling.

Olivia Dean’s stellar second album soared up the UK charts, and it’s not hard to see why. A genre-hopping triumph that draws on pop, jazz, bossa nova, Motown and beyond, it’ll sound even better at her mega arena tour next year. Hannah Mylrea.

Where Wet Leg’s Grammy-winning debut introduced the Isle of Wight group as idiosyncratic, slightly awkward indie heroes, ‘Moisturizer’ saw the band – and particularly singer Rhian Teasdale – embrace themselves with confidence and gusto. Loved up, horny and absolutely done with the world’s bullshit, ‘Moisturizer’ came with a new image, a new on-stage presence and the feeling of a band here to stay. Lisa Wright.

The ever-ethereal Florence + The Machine gave us a reality check on the price of fame with ‘Everybody Scream.’ Edged with mystical chants, imagery of wilderness, and haunting choral backing, Florence Welch ventured deeply and fiercely into parasocial relationships, systemic misogyny, and the damning pressure of the public eye. Geena Ling.

In the searingly honest ‘Lotus’, Little Simz laid her frustrations bare, ruminating on betrayal, healing, and rebirth over sparse, genre-blending production. It was a defiant and empowering release, leaning into the theme of conflict. Arusa Qureshi.

Drawing from a rich tapestry of funk, house and highlife, Amaarae has stated that making ‘Black Star’ drew her closer to her Ghanaian heritage, revelling in the joy of being at one with your own body. Her mission was duly accomplished: ‘Black Star’ was sweaty, sensual and at times, disarmingly sweet. Jenessa Williams.

After a decade of detours into jazz, acting, and writing lyrics on a typewriter while sporting a pink cowboy hat, ‘Mayhem’ reminded listeners of the Gaga that always lurks behind the Lady. ‘Garden of Eden’ would have fit in right alongside ‘Beautiful, Dirty, Rich’ on ‘The Fame’, and ‘Perfect Celebrity’ treaded similar lyrical territory as ‘The Fame Monster’. But Gaga also surprised on tracks like ‘Vanish Into You,’ which could have been written by a New Romantic. Celia Almeida.

Rose Gray is a force to be reckoned with. Earlier this year, she released her debut album, ‘Louder, Please’, capturing attention and hearts worldwide. It was a bold debut with infectious dance-pop tracks that captured impulsivity and introspection, all while immortalising the hedonistic club culture that enabled her rise. Annie Barber

With ‘Like A Ribbon’, John Glacier delivered an album packed with introspective and wide-ranging ideas, amalgamating hip-hop, grime, garage and more. Contrasting digital life with the tranquillity of the natural world, Glacier’s hypnotic delivery made for an intriguing debut. Arusa Qureshi.

Hayley Williams’ icon status was secured many years ago, but her third solo album was the first where she seemed willing to put her full self in the listeners’ hands. Para-lore experts were floored by the detail of her lyrical heartbreak, but her delivery was just as expansive, her powerhouse vocal making light work of grunge, power-pop and R&B. Jenessa Williams.

Auckland favourites The Beths delivered another near-perfect record in 2025. Their trademark jingly-jangly indie still sparkled, but ‘Straight Line Was a Lie’ cut deeper, folding SSRI recalibrations, self-interrogation and the sheer labour of staying alive into some of their sharpest hooks yet. Charlotte Gunn

‘Choke Enough’ was the debut record from French electronic artist Marylou Mayniel aka Oklou (pronounced Okay-Lou). With Danny L Harle and A.G. Cook twiddling the knobs, the record fused medieval melodicism with hyper-precise digital production, using Baroque-style polyphony and uncanny synth timbres to build songs that shifted shape as they moved. Grounding it all, were Marylou’s saccharine vocals. Charlotte Gunn

Where Wolf Alice began life singing about teenage friendships cemented on London buses, their widescreen fourth was a stunning document of a band all grown up – infused with the ambitious sensibilities of ‘70s soft rock and, for vocalist and lyricist Ellie Rowsell, written with the wisdom and clarity of having settled into her thirties. She and the band wear it well, and ‘The Clearing’ moves from sexy battle cries (‘Bloom Baby Bloom’) to gorgeous reflections (‘Play It Out’) with the confidence of a group in total control. Lisa Wright.

After a couple of false starts, 2025 was the year Addison Rae finally made the leap from TikTok For You pages to the Official Albums Chart. With her thoughtful blend of fame-loving pop indulgence, sultry embodiment mantras and tender musings on young womanhood, this sparkling debut cemented her long-coveted pop star status. Hollie Geraghty.

Twigs’ third album was a club record, through and through and an homage to the healing power of the dancefloor. Utterly transportative, one listen and you’re yanked from gloomy tube ride into the throng of a Berline superclub. But it was far from one-note. The Madonna-indebted ‘Perfect Stranger’ merged rubbed up against into the glitchy and industrial ‘Drums of Death’ without pause. And Twigs proved she still knows how to have fun, with the North-West starring ‘Childlike Things’, providing the year’s best feature. Charlotte Gunn.

This sample-stuffed mixtape was an addictive sugar rush of electro-pop goodness. Head-spinning beats, rattling basslines and whip-smart hooks immediately had us on board for one hell of a 20-minute ride. Short, sweet and to the point, the way she does best. Hollie Geraghty.

A thousand ideas packed into less than 30 minutes, the sixth studio album from the prolific, experimental Chicago duo was their ‘guitar record’ in name but not tradition. Adding gnarly solos to their already overspilling melting pot of dance, metal and everything else, ‘It’s A Beautiful Place’ showed just how exciting the humble six-string could still be. Lisa Wright.

‘Belong’ was Melina Duterte’s first Jay Som record in six years, and it was a triumphant return. From the pulsating synth-pop of ‘Cards On The Table’ and indie-folk of ‘Appointments’, to the emo anthems that are ‘Float’ and Hayley Williams-featuring ‘Past Lives’, ‘Belong’ was a powerhouse collection that showcases Duterte’s songwriting excellence. Hannah Mylrea.

Proving that politics will always be welcome in pop, CMAT’s third record spit-polished her songwriting style to a fine shine. Capitalist critiques have rarely sounded as self-deprecatingly specific as ‘The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station’, or as moving as the title track; an anthem of inherited trauma and teeth-gritted endurance to file alongside Sam Fender’s ‘Dead Boys’, The 1975’s ‘Love It If We Made It’ or Fontaines D.C’s ‘I Love You’ in the book of modern classics. Jenessa Williams.

Flying the Little Mix nest was a risk worth taking for JADE, as proven by her glass-ceiling-smashing debut solo album. Freed from the SYCO shackles, the pop diva experimented with electronic textures and spoke her truth on the uglier side of the music industry. All 14 tracks have lead single potential, but the gritty campness of ‘Angel Of My Dreams’ with its shrewd sample of ‘Puppet On A String’ was justly awarded the title. Geena Ling.

Rosalia’s fourth studio album was an ambitious project about so much – memory; mortality; how the people and places we give our love to take a piece of us that we can never get back, but also give us something new to take with us; and the canon life event that is enduring a heartbreak so profound that you briefly entertain the prospect of joining a convent. To achieve the level of drama required to express those sentiments, the Spanish savant sang in more than a dozen languages and employed the help of collaborators including the London Symphony Orchestra, Portuguese fado singer Carminho, Yves Tumor, and Björk. Celia Almeida.

Where to begin with Lily Allen’s mic-drop album? ‘West End Girl’ earned the top spot in our Albums of the Year list for 2025 for so many reasons, but mainly because it stood as Allen’s most fearless work to date. Written at speed after years of false starts, it captured the collapse of a marriage with staggering clarity, turning personal trauma into barbed, brilliant songwriting. Her life the source of tabloid fodder for over two decades, Allen managed to step outside the gossip cycle that has long hounded her, reclaiming the narrative of her high-profile break-up on her own terms. With all the wit and radiant honesty that made her a star, ‘West End Girl’ unfolded like a three-act play, traversing sadness, anxiety, rage and acceptance across inventive, hooky pop. Nodding to The Streets’ ‘A Grand Don’t Come For Free’, the record’s brutal, linear storytelling showed an artist firmly back at the top of her game. That’s how you make a comeback.