“The song of the summer” may be an invented concept meant to fill dead space on radio shows, but that doesn’t mean the idea is without merit. After a few years spent at an uneasy distance, it’s more important than ever to come together. Maybe that means gliding blissfully to your favorite easy-breezy radio hit; maybe that means scowling in distaste when the same old bullshit blares from the club speakers. The point is to feel something about the music we hear throughout the season. As always, what should and what will rule the summer are two different things. Below, we’ve taken a closer look at some of the biggest contenders, as well as a few favorite outliers.
The Bonafide Contenders
I knew the major labels were releasing SOTS candidates early and trying to rehash year-old songs with remixes, but this has gotten out of hand! In all seriousness, how can [insert frothy pop song heard on repeat for months] compete with the windswept heights of a song we’re still swooning over 37 years later, the rare anthem that is both wildly romantic and quietly poignant about overcoming what life gives you? “A mediocre show would have gone with a more obvious obvious song,” was how the critic Wesley Morris put it when “Running Up That Hill” was threaded through the pilot of FX’s Pose in 2018, an “our song” moment imbued with meaning for a trans love story. I would say we’ve reached peak obvious for “Running Up That Hill,” but obvious is the name of the game when you’re talking Song of the Summer. Thanks to a hefty Stranger Things sync, Bush scored her first Top 5 hit in America, broke various UK chart records, and is all over TikTok; she briefly came out of hiding in her castle to share her appreciation. Fellow Hounds of Love heads, we’re never gonna get another moment quite like this—I say blast the full album at every BBQ and beach day from shore to shore. –Jillian Mapes
This worldwide hit introduces itself with a horn fanfare that feels like a blast of cold air coming out of a department store on the hottest day of the year—the kind of sensation that makes summer worth all that sweat and sunburn. The most swooning track from Bad Bunny’s beach-forward Un Verano Sin Ti, “Ojitos Lindos” is a duet between the Puerto Rican star and Li Saumet of the psychedelic Columbian group Bomba Estéreo. They’re a perfect pair. As Saumet sings of his lingering smell over a dreamy reggaeton pulse, her voice echoes like a memory; Bad Bunny is completely smitten, getting lost in her eyes, her smile, and that mole near her mouth. It’s the sound of two people realizing that their summertime fling could last well beyond those Mai Tais with the little umbrellas. –Ryan Dombal
The planet is heating up and Beyoncé is cooling it down. “Break My Soul” introduces her disguise: burned-out everywoman on her way out the door to a place where the liquor’s pouring and Big Freedia is a modern classic sample. In times of repression, music communicates what’s forbidden to be said, and Beyoncé’s tribute to the Black and queer dancefloor celebrates the resilience of a community no legislation can silence. Sure, she hasn’t had a summer job in decades—not unless you count “playing Coachella”—but this message outpaces the messenger. Rent the really big speakers. –Anna Gaca
A song of the summer that gets booties shaking and pheromones flowing? Harry Styles has been there, done that. “Watermelon Sugar,” his sensual ode to coochie, defined the first pandemic summer when physical affection still stirred a degree of anxiety. Styles’ 2022 contender, “As It Was,” is remarkably insular in comparison. There’s no gushing fruit, only Styles reflecting on his own discontent atop a breezy ’80s synth line. If the chorus—“You know it’s not the same as it was”—begins as a lament, by the end it’s transformed into an affirmation, thanks to the friction between the angst in Styles’ voice and the chin-up melody that propels him forward. It’s not horny, but it will make you feel something. –Quinn Moreland
The House Favorites
We’ve all been there: holed up inside on a hot day, the UV rays and Vitamin D feeble adversaries for our ambient depression. Well acquainted with this strain of summertime sadness, Brooklyn indie-pop singer Grace Ives bottles the uncomfortable contradiction of feeling blue while the sun is blazing on her dejected banger “Lullaby.” The Janky Star closer chronicles a season spent scrolling through a phone, past Zillow listings and tidy Instagram tiles. Her sole dispatch from the outside world is the sound of the neighbors belting SZA’s “Love Galore.” It’s all relayed over a seasick beachside melody, synths pulsing like gulls squabbling over garbage in the sand. Co-produced by pop mastermind Justin Raisen, “Lullaby” stretches over a few simple musical phrases—a dry snare beat, heat-warped guitar, and glowing synth strokes. The subtly enticing arrangement shares DNA with ’80s chart-toppers, but it is Ives’ sweet, fluttering voice that makes the song soar well beyond the confines of her sweaty bedroom. –Madison Bloom
Megan Thee Stallion’s best songs call to mind the magic hour where good friends, drinks, and twerking are all you need to feel completely invincible. It’s catharsis in its purest form, Meg’s words and flows trampling over bad vibes and shitty exes that stick like caked-over mud. All of this can be said for her latest single “Plan B,” but the song has an added sense of freedom, a little extra swing that gives Meg’s words extra weight. What better way to start off the summer than by publicly clowning the person who held you back during spring?
The person who slighted Meg goes unnamed, but her barbs still cut to the bone. She bounces from anger and disgust to affirmations with a humid sway that matches the steamy Jodeci sample that serves as the song’s base. I’ve already spent countless warm nights blasting the song from my car speakers, and every time I feel compelled to stunt on exes I’ve never met, to look good for petty reasons. Meg’s intoxicating balance of spite and celebration courses through me every time I hear it. –Dylan Green
What would summer even be without a jungle remix of a little-known post-dubstep song done up by two internet-hyped anonymous British lads? Officially released on a 12" this past January, “home” has bounced its way onto playlists and into clubs after early live placements from Four Tet, Avalon Emerson, Ross from Friends, and a choice spot on a BBC Radio 1’s Essential Mix. Two Shell’s reputation as overly impish, needlessly cryptic, heads-only rockers of big choons has been met with some light skepticism, but “home” has a way of hushing the memes with its swirly topline melody and huge moldy bass. The track is so bright and dynamic that Two Shell can turn the club inside out, letting the sun pour onto the dance floor. –Jeremy D. Larson
Honestly… We Don’t Mind It?
It’s tricky to take an ephemeral internet phrase like “big dick energy” and turn it into a bubbly record that puts the “F” in fun (think about it). Some might argue that Latto’s “Big Energy,” her sophomore album’s lead single, is a simplistic sample of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy,” because Carey’s whistle-register apparition haunts every second of Latto’s version. Counterpoint: It is! Whatever! The original melody is hard to shake; it’s so exuberant it springs across the dancefloor like a slinky, and the image of ’90s-era Carey roller skating at Coney Island alongside Ol’ Dirty Bastard is iron-pressed into our millennial memories.
It’s a tall task to sample the song and an even bigger feat to give it staying power, but “Big Energy” has stuck around since last fall. Even as the season of "BDE" has washed away, along with Pete Davidson’s bleach-blonde dye, it will live on in infamy through Latto. –Clover Hope
One of the biggest misconceptions in rap has to be that Future and Drake have chemistry. The truth is, they’re rarely ever solid on the same song. That goes for “Wait for U,” too. The ATL Jacob-produced breakout single from Future’s I Never Liked You is one of those summertime hits that stews in the background everywhere you go; you’re never excited about it, but also never mad. Here, Future is the off one—his melodic cooing sounds especially phoned-in, and his lyrics border on parody. But it’s one of the more fun moody Drake features in a while, as his sing-raps have this way of ending every line on a catchy note and his lyrics shape into one of his trademark mopey relationship narratives: Life is going pretty great, but for some reason he can’t stop thinking about this woman who is living it up in Miami.
However, the real star of “Wait for U” is neither Future or Drake, but Tems. The Lagos native’s silky and sweet vocals lay down a hook that you can’t help but hum everytime you hear it. With one caveat: It’s not even an original Tems chorus, but a sample from “Higher,” off her 2020 EP For Broken Ears. It’s repurposed well on this track, but if it was up to me, I’d rather just hear the original all summer long. –Alphonse Pierre
No one gives me the ick as fast as Drake, the millionaire man-child in the ugly Toronto mega-mansion who on his last album self-identified as a lesbian because of course he did. Certified Lover Boy felt like psychological terror—how are grown men like this??—which is why I was ready to pass when Honestly, Nevermind came out in June.
For whatever reason, I ended up listening to it at the gym, and because I’m a basic bitch who loves a breezy club vibe, I predictably gravitated toward “Falling Back.” It’s a lithe, low-simmering house track about unreciprocated feelings, perfect for being on a rooftop at sunset, letting margarita-brain and a wistful atmosphere trick you into sending the most loaded “thinking of you” text ever. Drake sounds good in falsetto, and the song doesn’t require much of you except maybe contemplating a few moody questions (“How can you say that you know how I feel?”). Which is great, because everyone tries to do too much in the summer. The weird- ass music video makes me want to retract every compliment I’ve issued here, but let’s just end this and say thank you Drake, for giving the girlies something to jam to. –Cat Zhang
The Inescapable Hits We’d Nonetheless Like to Escape
How the mighty have fallen. Once upon a time, Jack Harlow was white boy of the month, prospective baby daddy to everyone. Then he released a bad album, and now he has to raise all of his hypothetical children alone.
His goodwill was never higher than in late March, when he posted himself vibing in the studio to the chorus of “First Class.” “I been a (G)/Throw up the (L)/Sex in the (A.M.),” he rapped, offering a clever-enough riff on Fergie’s bougie girl anthem “Glamorous.” It went viral before the track was even released, although the full thing was enough of a disappointment that even the “rich mom” TikTok influencers thirsting over him had to concede it sucked. How else to describe the cringe of “Pineapple juice, I give her sweet, sweet, sweet (semen)?”
But Harlow got this far in the zeitgeist by providing a potent fantasy to heterosexual women, and the minor genius of “First Class”’ chorus is how it taps into a desire to be provided for: sliding into cars with svelte interiors, sipping mimosas up in the air, getting prime dick as if sourced from the far reaches of the globe. Summertime is about ease, and when Harlow promises, “I can put you in first class,” you have to hand it to him: that does sound nice. –Cat Zhang
Calvin Harris’ newest song “Potion” has no flair, no substance, no character. As the misconceived lead single for the sequel to the super-producer’s 2017 album Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1, “Potion” indulges instead in a platter of overcooked sounds: a backwash of ’80s synth pads and guitars; the obligatory guest pop star in Dua Lipa following their “One Kiss” teamup, singing halfheartedly about being “in the whip on a Tuesday night,” perhaps the unsexiest weeknight choice. And there’s Young Thug, who appears as uninterested as everyone else, tossing off a lazy verse with the same energy as someone fighting off sleep. The song is smoothed-over to an immensely flat burnish, devoid of even a hint of commitment. Please refrain from giving in to this one for your summer playlist—or, at the very least, hold off until more deserving smooth-brain music inevitably arrives with the rest of Vol. 2. –Eric Torres
