Selecting the “song of the summer” will always be a subjective exercise, though typically there are a handful of artists who manage to capture the overarching vibe or mood of the season.
Take last summer, which featured a battle royale between the pop girlies — Charli XCX, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eilish and Chappell Roan — plus a wild card contender in a newly invigorated Kendrick Lamar.
This year feels markedly different. The pop girlies have mostly gone silent and, while Drake is attempting to stage a comeback, the charts are currently congested by a glut of bland bro-country and multiple hits that are over a year old.
That’s not to say there is a lack of interesting new music — just last week music fans were treated to a stellar release from elder hip-hop statesmen Clipse, plus a refreshingly unburdened surprise album from Justin Bieber. But music fans and the cultural zeitgeist seem to be remarkably siloed this year, preventing any obvious single song or artist from emerging as a monocultural force.
That won’t stop of us from giving it a go, though. Here are the songs of the summer, as chosen by the Star’s cohort of music experts and contributing critics.
Christine and the Queens & Cerrone: Catching Feelings
As soon as the clock strikes end of May, so begins the parade of pop stars trying to stake their claim on the song of the summer. These efforts are often blatant — a paint-by-numbers repackaging of what’s worked in the past. But if you pass me the aux at any point between now and Sept. 21, I’ll be jumping the queue with “Catching Feelings” by Christine and the Queens and French disco legend Cerrone — a pairing that skirts the artificial and heads straight for the visceral.
Summer is the season for crushes. For DM slips, will-they-won’t-they banter, day dates that stretch into night dates and meet cutes-turned-speed dials. “Catching Feelings” translates this exact seasonal energy into an irresistibly danceable, ’80s-coded banger. Set against our current apocalyptic political backdrop, the track offers a supercharged, synth-fuelled argument for seizing the day — and your crush — and heading straight for the dance floor. — Emilie Hanskamp, Toronto-based music journalist and producer
Kneecap: The Recap
“The destruction of Palestine is breaking the world,” journalist Moustafa Bayoumi recently wrote in an essay detailing how the mechanisms of power and censorship have provided cover for atrocities and mass killing in Gaza, thus pushing shared moral order to the verge of collapse. The essay captures a gnawing, uncomfortable sentiment that has been bubbling up for months, and which — at least within the world of music — seems to have erupted into a wave of frustration and fury during this red hot summer of 2025. Across the musical spectrum, popular artists have broken their silence, whether through written statements of solidarity with Palestine (Olivia Rodrigo, Lana Del Rey), or through contentious acts of protest on some of the world’s biggest stages (Fontaines D.C., Bob Vylan).
But no musical group has raged harder against the machine this summer than Kneecap, the provocative, semisatirical Irish hip-hop trio from Belfast, whose explosive (and occasionally reckless) expressions of anti-colonial fury have reinvigorated the long tradition of protest music. And, as if to cement their anti-establishment bona fides, they’ve also become a frequent target of political campaigns and even police investigations. But the finger-wagging has only increased the popularity of Kneecap, who in June capped off their raucous Glastonbury set with a new song called “The Recap,” a scorching diss track that doubles down on their support for Palestinian liberation, while defiantly taunting the British officials who attempted to silence their dissent.
Politics aside, “The Recap” is also a reminder that Kneecap’s music — like the very best protest music — is a ton of fun. The track opens with a rumbling bass line and driving punk drums, over which Mo Chara, Móglaí Bap and DJ Próvaí take turns rapping in a furious patois of Irish and English. Then the song quickly shifts gears, as a cacophony of blistering breakbeats and screeching synths explodes like a wayward blast of fireworks to the face. It’s somehow both ridiculous and righteous — a song that evokes the sweaty chaos of the mosh pit and the communal power of a march through the streets. — Richie Assaly, culture reporter
Haim: Relationships
It’s appropriate that following the debauchery of last year’s ”brat summer,” for 2025 we’re on the comedown with Haim’s breakup album, “I Quit.” It’s the morning after, we’re rethinking (or regretting) our choices and wondering how to move forward while nursing a big headache. The trio’s lead single, “Relationships,” is a 3:25-minute lament (summer bops are short ’n’ sweet, after all) on modern dating, carried by Danielle Haim’s breezy vocals and anchored by simple percussion and sobering piano chords. There’s no time for euphemisms or wordplay, the song simply and repeatedly states the frustrations of “f—kin’ relationships.”
When paired with the music video, reminiscent of a late ’90s/early ’00s Gap campaign (as someone who worked at one at the time, I can smell the Dream perfume wafting through the screen), the song is more subdued than last year’s fist-pumping anthems but, considering everything happening right now, we could use a moment of clarity. — Karon Liu, Star food reporter
Fred Again, Skepta and PlaqueBoyMax: Victory Lap
I’ve been travelling a lot this year and discovering tons of new music along the way. But a recent trip to London has reignited my love for the city’s garage and hip-hop scenes. I’m not alone — it seems like the world also rediscovered its appreciation for Skepta, arguably the most important U.K. hip-hop artist ever, after he jumped in last month to close Glastonbury with just a few hours’ notice.
That helps explain why Fred Again’s “Victory Lap” has been in constant rotation since it dropped in June. A cross-genre blitz of electronic, dubstep and grime, it’s an infectious shot of adrenalin and an earworm, designed less for Grandpa’s cottage barbecues and more for questionably sweaty, late-night warehouse raves after all the Sabrina Carpenter fans have gone to bed. It’s an anthem for anyone having a summer lived out of a suitcase and on the move. — Vernon Ayiku, Toronto-based music journalist
Wet Leg: Catch These Fists
One of the more heartening developments in the rather disheartening summer of 2025 is that Wet Leg didn’t succumb to the “one great album then straight to the dustbin” curse that’s befallen so many wonderful-out-of-the-gate U.K. bands before them — from the Sex Pistols to the La’s to Elastica to Ikara Colt — when their second record, “Moisturizer,” finally landed a week ago.
No, the unfailingly saucy Isle of Wight duo of Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers — now a proper five-piece band featuring touring members Henry Holmes, Josh Mobaraki and Ellis Durand — has come back hard, and the first sign of just how hard arrived this past April in the form of “Catch These Fists.”
An altogether stinging middle finger to drunken creepos who insist on harassing women late at night in the clubs, this beefy banger features queer-identifying singer Teasdale staring her would-be suitor in the face while he ruins a ketamine-soaked night out on the dance floor, declaring, ”I just threw up in my mouth / When (you) just tried to ask me out / Yeah, don’t approach me / I just wanna dance with my friends.” And this after we’ve already been treated to one of the most riff-tastic and utterly satisfying choruses that Veruca Salt never got around to writing back in the day: ”I know all too well just what you’re like / I don’t want your love, I just wanna fight.”
It really does make you wanna smash all your furniture and get in a fight, as all good punk rock should. More, please, Wet Leg. More, more, more. — Ben Rayner, Toronto journalist and contributor to the Star’s Culture section.
Public Health: Kilimanjaro
The phrase “song of the summer” traditionally conjures blissful images of open-sunroof drives, rooftop dance parties and out-of-body experiences in festival fields. But when you consider the reality of summer 2025 — lethal air-quality readings, humidity that crushes your will to live like a dropped anvil, and the general unshakable feeling that civilization is teetering on the brink of political, ecological, technological disaster — the apocalyptic art-punk of Public Health feels like a more appropriate soundtrack.
Public Health are four guys from Hamilton barely in their 20s, so they’ve never really known a world that wasn’t perpetually on fire in both the figurative and literal senses, and their recently released debut album, ”Minamata,” is their means of seeking catharsis through chaos. True to its namesake inspiration, the album’s 10-minute centrepiece sludgefeast “Kilimanjaro” effectively resembles a long-dormant volcano slowly erupting back to life, its ominous black-cloud buildup gradually giving way to a relentless surge of magma-spewing noise that’s as hypnotic as it is horrifying. So long, “brat summer” — say hello to “brute summer.” — Stuart Berman, Hamilton producer for CBC Radio One’s “Commotion” and Pitchfork writer
Men I Trust: Husk
If you ever wanted to dream while awake, Quebec City’s Men I Trust have just the thing to cure what ails you. The trio continuously blossoms with an irresistibly warm, lush blend of lo-fi and synth-soaked electropop that goes down smooth. Though restrained, lead singer Emma Proulx’s whispery vocals play brilliantly against the myriad arpeggiated guitars and blurry pads that adorn their every arrangement.
Most tracks off the group’s stellar sixth album, “Equus Caballus,” could work as offbeat songs of the summer, but “Husk” stands out as being particularly introspective and homely. Much like summer itself, it contains multitudes; it isn’t gratuitously sunny, but rather an honest, provocative look at a less-than-ideal relationship that erodes as time passes. It yearns, it rolls and it grooves, all while keeping with the crystalline, gauzy patina of far more accessible pop. You don’t need to think while listening to it, but you still will. — Hayden Godfrey, staff reporter
Tate McRae: Sports Car
If we have to bear going outside in Toronto’s new normal scorching heat, let’s at least do so with good tunes that capture the essence of summer. Tate McRae’s “Sports Car” ticks all the right boxes for me. The flirty, steamy song features a whispery earworm chorus and bass-heavy beat that take me back to the 2000s R&B-pop songs that dominated radio in the summertime (it’s reminiscent of the Pussycat Dolls’ racy R&B single “Buttons” and Nelly Furtado’s smash hit “Promiscuous,” while embodying Britney Spears’ signature breathy vocals).
A good summer song allows you to feel carefree and “Sports Car” feels like driving down the highway on a summer night “with the windows rolled down” as the summer breeze blows through your hair, even if your whip in this economy isn’t a sports car .
Since releasing her third studio album, “So Close to What,” and dominating the 2025 Juno Awards, the Calgary-born artist has secured her title as a main pop girl on the global stage, and she owns the summer anthem I anticipate to hear everywhere this season. — Asma Sahebzada, staff reporter
mgk: Cliché
I’m not a big fan of mgk (the artist formerly known as Machine Gun Kelly) by any definition, so colour me shocked concerning the immediate impact I experienced upon first hearing “Cliché,” the on-again, off-again Mr. Megan Fox’s rumination about bad boy desire.
The reason it’s so appealing is that simplicity rules the day: it starts off with an unadorned acoustic guitar lick and Kelly making a humble plea — ”Tell me, would you wait for me?” — that turns out to be the first line of the chorus. At the 28-second mark, the drums kick in — and suddenly we’re off to the races: the pop-rock anthem’s irresistible hook barely changes and the vibe is one of getting into your car on a hot summer night and driving for hours with an overwhelming sense of urgency and no destination in mind. The momentum generated is of elation.
Just heed this warning: this three-minute adrenalin rush will spew itself into your hippocampus when it’s least expected and leave you humming it relentlessly — and that’s no “Cliché.” — Nick Krewen, Toronto contributor to the Star
Aminé: Arc De Triomphe
Aminé has morphed into the ultimate summer artist. Always a smooth and swaggering rapper, years spent alongside producer Kaytranada and now Lido have elevated his lyricism, which he adorns with ornate and bouncy production. Released in April, “Arc De Triomphe” set the tone for summer with chopped chimes, booming drums and the pace of a U.K. garage song. It’s a unique sample flip from the Streets’ ”Has It Come To This,” which reframes a British classic into a summer bop. But that’s Aminé’s gift — his ability to highlight things that few have the vision to see, allowing the Portland native to use Bart Simpson’s signature “ay caramba” to set up swaggering lines like “Yeah, and her moisturizer turned my face to a merchandiser / They lips is looser, the money tied up / They face is screwed up when they see that I’m up.” That same clever connectivity sparks the idea to rhyme his name in a song about France, despite Aminé being an Ethiopian name. “Arc De Triomphe” is a sophisticated track buoyed by production that charms you into dancing. — Démar Grant, staff reporter at the Hamilton Spectator
King Pari: Somethin’ Somethin’
This track by the Los Angeles-based, R&B/soul group King Pari is about summer vibes and deep reflections. Written in 2020 at the height of the pandemic and the Black Lives Matter movement, the funky guitar riffs and falsetto-soul vocals accompanied by lo-fi production reside in my head rent free. It gives off a live-in-the-moment vibe. “Somethin’ Somethin’” is the summer soundtrack for a hangout with friends or family, or solo adventures spent trying to understand deep, disruptive changes to the world around us. — Sanjeev Wignarajah, freelance music writer
