The Ten Best Songs of 2015

With no pretense of being exhaustive, nor of representing the whole of the editorial staff's rankings, we thought we'd let you hear, through a Top10 each, the playlists that best represent each of our "musical years". The songs that stood out within a particular genre, the songs that symbolize the breakthrough artists or the great returning names – or, more simply, the songs that meant something to us as we listened to them.

Stefano Bartolotta

In 2015, probably, no album came out that we'll still remember years from now. That said, as far as I'm concerned, there were plenty of good releases, especially at the level of individual songs – there were really so many that I listened to over and over, often ignoring the rest of the record. In fact, paradoxically, the year's best albums as a whole are barely represented in this playlist, and what we saw instead was the phenomenon of great songs tucked away on records that weren't on the same level. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and bringing all these tracks together in a single year-end playlist was a real pleasure.

Gabriele Benzing

2015: End Credits

Characters and performers of a year, or rather, the end credits of 2015.

Wartime Blues as The (Re)Builder in “Build A Sun”. Because the sun is always reborn, even from the bottom of the abyss.

The Weather Machine as The Angel in “Lilium”. They called her Miss Lilium, and everyone was left breathless when she vanished from the stage.

KINSEY as The Lover in “Eat Your Heart Out”. Serenades for heart-eaters.

The Mountain Goats as The Wrestler in “Foreign Object”. “If you can’t beat ’em make ’em bleed like pigs”.

The Tallest Man On Earth as The Sailor in “Slow Dance”. Does it take more courage to leave or to stay?

Josh Ritter as The Preacher in “Henrietta, Indiana”. Blessed are the poor of Henrietta, Indiana. But blessed too are those who manage to get out alive.

Lord Huron as The Revenant in “The World Ender”. That time Nick Cave joined the cast of “The Walking Dead”.

The Decemberists as The River Child in “The Wrong Year”. The rain always falls at the wrong moment.

Hezekiah Jones as Dr. Frankenstein’s Creature in “Borrowed Heart”. An imaginary soundtrack for Boris Karloff's heartaches.

Sufjan Stevens as The Apostle in “John My Beloved”. “I am a man with a heart that offends with its lonely and greedy demands”.

Marco Bercella

1. Tame Impala – The Moment

The unexpected moment when a psychedelic guitar band picks up synths without losing a shred of its identity. If anything, quite the opposite.

2. Roman à Clef – PSBTV

There are ways and ways of tackling pop sophistication, and Roman à Clef choose the hardest path: going up against the masters (Prefab Sprout, anyone?). They can't come out on top, but they still cut a fine figure.

3. Here We Go Magic – Falling

The same expressive freedom Brian Eno showed back in the '70s, when he served up his slightly naive pop songs.

4. Public Service Broadcasting – Go!

A concept album about the space race, in the very year of Star Wars' return. What more could you ask for?

5. Wire – Burning Bridges

Old lions returning with a breeze of psychedelia that refreshes their sound. And what a sound it is, as we well know.

6. FFS – Police Encounters

Franz Ferdinand plus Sparks: tangible proof that a dream team isn't just something you build in fantasy football.

7. Garbo and Luca Urbani – Novecento

When collaborations turn into alchemy, the result can end up being greater than the sum of its parts.

8. Patrick Watson – Hearts

It's the most Christmassy-sounding track that came to mind to include in this playlist, even though Watson, with his lovelorn robots, kept me company for a good chunk of the year.

9. Jean Michel Jarre & Air – Close Your Eyes

Much the same goes for what was said about FFS. The French national team has its own dream lineup too: here, Platini and Zidane together for once.

10. Marsheaux – The Sun & The Rainfall

When two Greek girls decide to cover your favourite Depeche Mode album, and the result turns out not just good but more than good, it means the end of the world is near. Or maybe it's just the end of the year that's near.

Guia Cortassa

For me, 2015 is the year of California and Los Angeles: from the bacchanal of Grimes' emotional revenge in "Flesh Without Blood", celebrated at San Luis Obispo, to the Chateau Marmont where "Chateau Lobby #4 (In C for two Virgins)" was born, a musical chronicle of Josh Tillman/Father John Misty's wedding; from the languid Malibu afternoons of Lana Del Rey's "Music to Watch Boys To", to Hollywood, the inspiration for Tobias Jesso Jr.'s broken heart, all the way to the streets of Compton recounted by Kendrick Lamar. A year of tough, complicated stories, like those of Sandra Bland and Trayvon Martin, to whom Blood Orange dedicates "Sandra's Smile"; tracks that capture the hardships and contradictions of today's world in flash-nonfiction as sharp as Courtney Barnett's, who goes straight for the heart with "Depreston"; or the nihilistic obsession of Ought's "Beautiful Blue Sky", but also the wider world, once again returning to Hollywood, of Blur's "New World Tower". The year's unresolved ending is once again signed by Tobias Jesso Jr., who this time, together with Adele, manages to capture the anger and nostalgia of an encounter as unexpected as it is, in truth, far more likely than one might think.

Claudio Fabretti

A rich 2015, between consecrations (Julia Holter, John Grant, Susanne Sundfør, Chelsea Wolfe, Soft Moon), revelations (Algiers, Aisha Devi, Takadum Orchestra) and the glorious returns of old lions (John Fay, Joe Jackson, China Crisis, the latter left out here for reasons beyond our control, given their absence from Spotify). Few truly revolutionary records, but plenty of work capable of delivering curious, thrilling listens.

I've tried to sum it up with my favourite tracks of the year, among which there had to be a bit of classy pop swagger (Duran Duran, Blur) alongside my usual omnivorous jumble of contemporary (more or less rock) music. With girl power in fine form, thanks to the wonders of the Holter-Sundfør-Wolfe triad and, of course, an (even more) languid Lana, in her Honeymoon guise.

1. Maccabees – Spit It Out

The best song from one of the most underrated albums of the year. An orchestral crescendo that explodes in all its power while giving you goosebumps along the way.

2. Belle and Sebastian – Allie

Yet another gem set into Murdoch and co.'s songbook. This time, though, delivered as a small bacchanal that unfolds into their usual, meticulously calibrated chorus. Sumptuous.

3. Blur – There Are Too Many Of Us

Damon Albarn in Sydney, holed up in his hotel room while an attack unfolds just a few hundred metres away. Globalized anguish translated, almost exorcised, into a crescendo of extraordinary impact. A track worthy of Blur at their best.

4. Stornoway – Between The Saltmarsh And The Sea

The salty air, a ship setting sail, cliffs in the distance, the reassuring melancholy of departure. Up there, somewhere, in a vivid and wild North.

5. SOAK – Sea Creatures

Even as she keeps toying with that slightly naive air, SOAK has grown up. Here's the proof: refined retro atmospheres, hints of chamber-pop, a subtle psychedelic aftertaste. A song to carry close to your heart.

6. Sarah Cracknell – Nothing Left To Talk About

Nothing more, nothing less: a lesson in elegance and lightheartedness. The song that stayed with me through the long summer days.

7. Speedy Ortiz – Raising the Skate

Of the massive nineties revival that swept through 2015, I'm crowning this missed hit by Speedy Ortiz as its standard-bearer, a lopsided, almost stammering song, scrappy and genuine in just the right measure, but also melodic and sticky. Perfect.

8. Gaz Coombes – 20/20 

Long gone are his britpop swaggering days: Gaz now reveals himself as a mature, refined songwriter. "20/20" is like a tide that rises and falls, driven by hidden, irregular dynamics. A track whose only rule is to lose yourself, with no need to find your way back.

9. Ducktails – Surreal Exposure

There are things in life you know you can always count on: one of them is Matt Mondanile's songwriting, with its bittersweet atmospheres injected into a muffled indie-rock that, for some strange reason, feels reassuring in its own way. While you're at it, go dig up "Northern Highway" by his fellow traveller Martin Courtney.

10. Digitonal – Anaemathics

Halfway between modern classical and ambient, a track of twilit beauty from an album that was unjustly overlooked. Rediscover it.

Vassilios Karagiannis

If I had to describe my 2015 in music with a single adjective, "surprising" would probably be the most fitting choice. While very few artists managed to confirm themselves this year with their new albums, there were plenty of unexpected discoveries, both geographically and musically speaking. The frontiers of new sacred music (Timbre, Spires That In The Sunset Rise, Kara-Lis Coverdale, Tigran Hamasyan), unprecedented forms of mutant, futuristic r&b (Bilderbuch, Kelela, Dawn Richard, Miguel), thoughtful, accelerationist electronic music that's also rich in anthropological nuance (Holly Herndon, Elysia Crampton, Aïsha Devi, Lakker); there's no shortage, either, of the usual (though never predictable) forays into chart pop, singer-songwriter fare and folk music, but this year was undoubtedly dominated by stylistic diversity and a broader look at scenes that deserve far more attention. This playlist of 50 tracks doesn't aim to be exhaustive of every significant listen of 2015, but it's still a solid starting point for getting a handle on an extraordinarily rich and compelling year. No ranking implied.

Claudio Lancia

While picking ten tracks released in 2015 from among the ones I listened to most over the past twelve months, I realized just how (unconsciously?) retro-leaning my tastes have been. As usual, there's a lot of 90s stylistic influence (Metz, the return of Sleater-Kinney, the great newcomer Courtney Barnett), but also plenty of the previous decade's wave sound (representing that strand, I've picked Girls Names and Editors), some well-crafted pop (yes, I appreciated the striking change of direction from Mumford & Sons), a few fitting Ibiza-leaning detours (Chemical Brothers and Jamie XX are two records I loved dearly), and the daydreams of Beach House, who caught us off guard with two fine releases just weeks apart. Then, as the selection was drawing to a close, along came the pitch-black work of Chelsea Wolfe, a wonderful descent into hell titled "Simple Death". Plenty of others would have deserved a spot, but even as it stands this makes for quite the mixtape. Happy new year, everyone!

Stefano Macchi

While Benjamin Clementine gave us a canvas of real value with gothic touches ("Cornerstone"), bands like Beach House ("10.37") and Tame Impala ("The Less I Know The Better") initially left me a bit cold; then, once it ripened, the fruit hit me and swept me up instantly into a dreamy, pleasure-drenched vortex, like a gestalt Ah-Ha moment made of a magical, bizarre pop figure. IOSONOUNCANE ("Stormi") slots right into the discoveries category (though perhaps everyone's discovered it by now) yet it had already been a sure top-ranking pick since the start of the year, just like Malika Ayane ("Lentissimo"), an absolute revelation for Italian pop. Across the whole pop-electronic strand (rather disappointing this year) I see leading the pack the young Englishman Jamie XX ("Obvs"), backed by his fellow countrymen Hot Chip ("Huarache Lights"), by an interesting hybrid act - though still awaiting confirmation - called All We Are ("Ebb/Flow") and by the resurrected Charlatans ("So Oh"), who released their new album 5 years on.

There's also an international folk scene that enriched my collection in 2015: Eaves ("As Old As The Grave"), a very young folk guitarist from Leeds who wrote and played a rough, intense record; Villagers ("Dawning On Me") aka Conor O'Brien, who every time I listen to or play makes me want to be like him, at least a little; Ryley Walker ("Same Minds"), who delivered a return to Nick Drake, raw and well played.

Lastly, there are the so-called madmen, the unclassifiable ones, those who write records that belong to a genre but upend its rules, or simply couldn't care less about anything or anyone: that's the case of Welsh perfectionist H. Hawkline ("Moons In My Mirror"), of the breakneck American West Coast band Fidlar ("40oz. On Repeat"), who are slowly reinventing skate-punk, of Panda Bear ("Mr. Noah"), for whom calling his record psychedelic is an understatement, and of Zun Zun Egui, a multiracial prog band who wrote a hugely powerful record (not heard anything like it since the days of Mars Volta) and then decided to split up.

Angelo Molaro

At least for the playlists we can spare ourselves the long-winded analysis, because if music has one primary purpose, it's the pleasure it should give us beyond technicalities, scores, rankings and criticism. In fact, this playlist is put together purely on taste, there's no first place, no second, no last. You can find a bit of everything: from the best of the LA hip-hop and jazz scene with Flying Lotus and co. (Kamasi Washington, Kendrick Lamar) to the classy comeback of New Order and Ratatat with the single of the summer, indie-pop champion Lana del Rey, and the Battles bombshell that seemed to herald a stunning album but ended up a bitter disappointment. There's obviously a ton of electronic music, which remains a touchstone in my listening habits: from the pirouettes of Jamie XX, Baio and Panda Bear, to the unease of Oneohtrix Point Never, passing through the dreamlike world of Floating Points and ending with the dark, straight-up kick drum of Polar Inertia and Black Dog.

Unfortunately, a few tracks of considerable interest are missing from the roll call because Spotify doesn't support them, like Jaar's spectacular Pomegranates and the seminal Levon Vincent. Never mind, the joyous last-minute discoveries of Bomba Estèreo and Voilaaa are here to ease any regrets. Happy listening.

Michele Palozzo

The Apartments – Black Ribbons

Once again, incurable romantics that we are, falling in love with an atmosphere, then with a mood, and finally with a crystalline, disarming female voice, as your song floats down over the town.

Emidio Clementi – I camerieri

Scream upward to the house of your God, scream down the stairs behind the running waiters, scream against the food and the wine. Scream your terror, your stubborn melancholy. These madmen are sad, and on two or three faces this sadness surfaces. Pleasure, a withered rose on the breast of life.

Benjamin Clementine – Cornerstone

Among the year's most celebrated singer-songwriter debuts, for me it's just a taste of what Clementine can truly convey only live, with bare voice and piano. "Cornerstone" remains, fittingly, the cornerstone of that intense relationship between voice and instrument.

Rafael Anton Irisarri – Empire Systems

The musical environment to get lost in this year. Sinking into a fog that obscures your sight but seems to throw open the mind's most hidden thresholds. A fragile, evanescent geography, all-encompassing and elusive.

Low – Lies

For many, Low have always been a guiding light; for me, a confirmation that keeps renewing itself with ever greater force in unexpected ways. It's completely paradoxical, but I've never felt them as close as now. Once again, simple hearts win out.

Mew – Satellites

When it comes to great comebacks, Mew will probably always manage to place at least one song worthy of a yearly playlist, however short. There could be three or four if we wanted, but right now "Satellites" is the current benchmark for indie-pop perfection.

Joanna Newsom – Anecdotes

Making us wait a long time before returning to the stage with all the elegance and self-awareness of an already legendary artist. Between "Anecdotes" and "Sapokanikan", it feels like Newsom has already left behind another artistic testament, a blend of formal perfection and soul that I can't get used to.

Sufjan Stevens – The Only Thing

A private act of love becomes a composite image in which everyone can find the right words to describe their own state of mind. Every period of life is marked by a farewell; some are at least lucky enough to know how to exorcise it through music. Should I tear my eyes out now? Everything I see returns to you somehow.

Susanne Sundfør – Memorial

If I still haven't decided to narrow my focus when it comes to musical genres, it's for fear of leaving behind albums like Susanne Sundfør's: ten pop tracks of great emotional depth, ranging from irrepressible erotic dances to aching gothic ballads. It's almost impossible to pick just one track, but for its sheer level of emphasis and grandeur, the "Memorial" suite simply can't be left out.

Steven Wilson – Routine

Steven Wilson's calling, now more than ever, has become that of the storyteller: alongside his earliest musical loves, forgotten figures come back to life, their souls still radiating light. "Routine" sounds like a quiet requiem, ultimately at peace, achingly sweet, a mirror of a humanity devastated yet unyielding to the cruelties of fate. Don't ever let go, try to let go

Lorenzo Righetto

This year, pretty much everyone felt like a child abandoned by an alcoholic, schizophrenic mother after just a few years of life, busy fishing out the memory of a handful of summers after seeing her again, more than thirty years later, on her deathbed: “Did you get enough love, my little dove/ Why do you cry?/ And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best/ Though it never felt right”. It's hard not to open a playlist with anything other than Sufjan Stevens's "Fourth Of July", really. But there are other songs that make you cry too — sometimes all it takes is a voice, like Karen Peris's ("Washington Field Trip"), sometimes another story that splits life into a before and an after, like that of the son Peter Walsh lost ("Black Ribbons"). But there were also songs to feel young again, back when a single song was enough to fill an afternoon ("Kathleen Sat...", "Yung Girls", "To The Kino, Again"). Songs and sounds that build emotional and aesthetic worlds that keep echoing inside you long after ("If It Does", "En Gang Om Aret"), or let you live other lives, heroic and brazen ("Scar") or romantic and solitary ("Porch").

Roberto Rizzo

For this writer, this was a year markedly shaped by new frontiers in sound and rhythm from across the Mediterranean, trends that are playing an increasingly central role in the game of influences and hegemonies within global electronic music. From the liberating chaabi of EEK, the thrilling new Cairo style that already boasts a dozen or so local imitators, to the sweeter but no less vibrant digital laments of Nozinja, the guru of shangaan electro, who has even been noticed by Warp of late. In between, there's the indefinable work of the Kinshasa collective Mbongwana Star, the exhilarating upbeat output of the "post-colonial" label Principe Discos, but also the (relatively) more talked-about debut of JLin, the intense queer-synth work of Elysia Crampton, the new developments from the American collective Future Brown, also tied to the debut of Kelela, an impressive new electro-r&b talent, and even the most recent single by M.I.A., relevant, of course, in more ways than one.

In 2015, music and personal life moved hand in hand, turning a year that was already musically brilliant in its own right into a true soundtrack of unforgettable moments and emotions. This playlist is an attempt to sum up what 2015 was for me.

1. The Weeknd – Can’t Feel My Face

Abel Tesfaye is still inconsistent over the course of a full album, but when he nails a track, he proves to be arguably the most important Black voice in the mainstream landscape. This massive hit, blessed with stellar production and an irresistible vocal performance, was THE song of the summer, by a considerable margin.

2. Years & Years – Shine

Here, the angelic dance-pop of Years & Years reaches its purest, most candid emotional peak: a confession of rare intensity, defiant in the face of homophobia, with a melody that brings tears to the eyes, a burst of innocence and adolescent fervor.

3. Swim Deep – One Great Song And I Could Change The World

Amid a thousand instrumental twists and turns, Swim Deep reveal an almost-prog side, crafting the most daring pop track of the year.

4. Duke Dumont – Ocean Drive

UK house rediscovers the 1980s and pulls out a melancholic, nostalgic gem.

5. Tame Impala – Let It Happen

From a band this writer used to loathe to the revelation of the year: "Let It Happen" is the manifesto of Tame Impala's synth-pop turn, 7 minutes of celestial melody and retro-futuristic synth progressions.

6. Deerhunter – Ad Astra

A majestic track lost somewhere in a remote galaxy. Deerhunter at one of their most evocative peaks.

7. Laura Marling – Gurdjeff's Daughter

Lightness and complexity: an inseparable pairing in Marling's music, which keeps delivering compositional gems unique within the folk landscape.

8. Jamie XX – Loud Places

This year's summer sunsets, coming back from the sea, had one fixed soundtrack: this magnificent Balearic gem.

9. Kendrick Lamar – These Walls

I didn't love "To Pimp A Butterfly", which I find too pretentious, but this track brings back echoes of the more intimate Lamar, the one who can move you with inward-looking reflections, free of the “universal” weight that has diminished his urban poetics.

10. Lao Che – Wojenka

Polish tradition meets funk futurism: a track that simply defies any pre-existing classification.

Django Django: Pause Repeat

The song of the year. Of my year, at least. Lazy, radiant, playful, dazed, dynamic. With its broken rhythm, its relentless build, and that larger-than-life chorus, where the Euro accents of Friendly Fires land off the beat and edge close to… Canterbury, could it be?

Years & Years: Shine

Verse, pre-chorus, chorus, bridge: every melody unforgettable. Perfect pop, wrapped in just the right amount of electronic emphasis to lend it a dreamy grandeur.

Clarence Clarity: Will To Believe

Plastic left forgotten near the stove. In Clarence Clarity's music, genres melt down, turn soft and shapeless, and lose their function. And yet the artistry is such that out of an rnb/glitch/electro/hypnagogic monster like "Will to Believe" emerges a genuinely surprising pop effectiveness.

Cosmo Sheldrake – In Pelicans We

Playful, modern, ancient: Cosmo Sheldrake is a name to watch, having released his debut EP this year. His music moves through the by-now slightly dated territory of folktronica, but brings with it two revitalizing elements: a firm anchoring in the British tradition of melodic songcraft, and an excellent pop pen.

The Weather Station – Way It Is, Way It Could Be

Delicate, stretched-out, dreamlike, the folk of Canada's Weather Station cradles you with the murmur of crystalline guitar arpeggios and Tamara Lindeman's bewitching voice, seeming to draw from that same source which made the best songs of Nick Drake both luminous and resigned all at once.

Firefly Burning – We Are a Bomb

Straddling the border between indie-folk and chamber-pop, many bands these days display an almost progressive musical bent, and Firefly Burning are – if not the most interesting – certainly the act that landed the biggest coup in 2015 in terms of songwriting quality and melodic flair.

Stornoway – Get Low

A great comeback from the standard-bearers of British folk-pop. The lightness and kaleidoscopic quality of a track like "Get Low" should be enough to sweep Mumford & co. off the map for good; yet for some mysterious reason Stornoway remain a secret known only to a few.

San Fermin – Jackrabbit

More indie-folk, with choral touches and an intense prog flavour. What sets this American band apart isn't ambition but method: they pair the excellent pop class already on display in their previous album with hooks lifted from chart-topping R&B, superbly reinvented on this "Jackrabbit".

The Dear Hunter – Waves

The grandeur of Muse and Queen married to choral folk structures or prog-pop schemes in the style of Electric Light Orchestra. This is where the band led by Casey Crescenzo has landed, having started out in post-hardcore and headed ever since toward new and surprising destinations.

Macklemore & Ryan Lewis – Downtown

I can finally say I have an opinion on the Macklemore-Kendrick Lamar controversy that erupted at the 2014 Grammys: there's no comparison. One of them can actually rap, making innovative, almost prog hip-hop despite the obvious nods to black music of the past… The other one is Kendrick Lamar.

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28/10/2025