My Favourite (British) Tracks of 2025
According to 020sik
2025 has, honestly, been one of the strongest years for music this century. The UK rap scene is finally getting its global dues beyond just Central Cee; Dave came through with his third (and, in my opinion, best) LP; SHERELLE arrived with a seismic debut; FKA Twigs broke the internet with ‘Eusexua;’ Jim Legxacy levelled up to world-conquering status; and Olivia Dean (fellow North London girly) took over the charts. And that’s just off the dome.
As the month goes on, I’ll keep adding to this list with the tracks that defined my year. Feel free to argue with me in the comments or my DMs (I will stand by every single song on here without flinching). When I say every track is worth your time, I mean it. To skip even one would be an act of spiritual self-sabotage.
Anyway, dive in, and check back tomorrow for new additions.
Dave, Tems - Raindance
‘Raindance’ is one of three tracks from Dave’s third studio album, ‘The Boy Who Played the Harp,’ to earn a place on this list, and that’s no coincidence. On this record, Dave delivers what is, in my view, one of the most emotionally affecting and energising albums in British music history. ‘Raindance’ is central to that achievement.
Pairing Dave with Nigerian singer Tems proves inspired. Their chemistry feels effortless, with vocals that overlap and interlock naturally. Tems’ ethereal refrains float above the instrumental, softening and elevating Dave’s intricately paced verse.
Sonically, the track sits in a smooth, atmospheric space between Afrobeats and jerk rhythms, signalling a more mature and refined engagement with the genre than Dave has previously shown. The production is restrained but luxurious, allowing the pairs’ intimacy to do the heavy lifting.
The song’s impact was not limited to the artistic. ‘Raindance’ was a commercial success, sparking persistent speculation about Dave and Tems’ off-record relationship and earning Silver certification in the UK in under two months.
Lyrically, Dave first sketches a meeting at the bar - “See you at the bar, you was hardly talkin’ / That’s when I knew that your heart was scarrin’” - before slipping in a playful nod to a viral Damson Idris moment: “This ain’t Gucci, this is Prada, darlin’.” The song’s emotional core, however, arrives in the outro, where Dave imagines commitment - putting a rock on Tems’ finger, spending enough to have the bank block his card - while Tems glides overhead with a simple, devastating refrain: “Tell me, you’re the only one I want.”
‘Raindance’ is a rare thing: a modern love song that feels both cinematic and sincere, and it proves to be one of the most beautiful moments in Dave’s catalogue.
Buy ‘The Boy Who Played the Harp’ here.
Chy Cartier - PROBLEM
Chy Cartier’s debut album ‘NO BRING INS’ was, frankly, a disappointment. That said, one track from the project has quickly become a personal favourite. ‘PROBLEM’ stands apart not only for its conviction, but for the way it foregrounds a vaguely South Asian–inflected sample while Chy wears her North London identity with unmistakable pride - a combination that inevitably resonated with me as a half-Indian North Londoner.
On ‘PROBLEM’, Cartier sounds fearless, poised for confrontation in the best sense. Her delivery is confrontational but controlled as she asserts her presence - “We call your name, they’re like, ‘Who are you?’ / I bet they know me though” - while affirming femininity on her own terms: “And I’m rarely in a dress, still a girly girl.” The chorus doubles down on her geography: “Straight out of North, not Compton / You can tell by the way that I dress / You can tell by the way how I talk / Probably how I walk.”
Produced by BenjiFlow, the track is built around a South Asian–tinged vocal loop, swelling synths, stripped-back kicks, and ghostly vocal textures. Where much of Cartier’s catalogue can feel like a frontal assault on the beat, ‘PROBLEM’ finds her in rare alignment, gliding across the instrumental with precision.
You don’t need to be a devoted Chy Cartier listener, or even from North London, to appreciate what works here. ‘PROBLEM’ earns its place on its own terms.
James Massiah - West
I’ve been a James Massiah fan for some time, and he has yet to disappoint. His latest project, ‘Bounty Law,’ continues that run, packed with infectious, spring-loaded instrumentals throughout. Still, no track hits quite like ‘West’.
Produced by Cold and Poundshop, two of my favourite producers, and delivered with Massiah’s unmistakable presence, it always felt destined to land with me. What I didn’t expect was how quickly it became essential listening. According to my Spotify Wrapped, I played it 97 times this year, including twice in the car just after midnight on my birthday. That level of attachment speaks for itself.
Sonically, ‘West’ draws from synthpop and acid house, built around a looping synth-and-kick pattern that keeps the track deliberately stripped back. This restraint gives Massiah’s spoken-word cadence room to breathe. There’s a particular line - “there where the bits be / talk smooth but I’m a rough neck pickney” - that really scratches my brain.
Across ‘Bounty Law,’ Massiah casts himself as an outlaw and social outlier, and ‘West’ sharpens that persona. Lines like “chosen few in my phonebook, swiftly delete / Other links…” sketch a life of selective intimacy before folding back into the geography and romance of the city he champions: “had a next ting in Dalston / and I had a next Westbourne Grove ting / and a West Green Road ting.”
It’s difficult to fully account for just how addictive ‘West’ is on paper. Take my word for it, it rewards obsession.
FKA twigs - HARD
From the moment it landed, I was taken by FKA twigs’ career-defining EUSEXUA, so anticipation for its companion release, ‘EUSEXUA Afterglow,’ was inevitable. While debate over which project is stronger continues, my standout across both comes from the latter: a track titled ‘HARD’.
‘HARD’ thrives on an unusual equilibrium of eeriness, groove, and sensuality, oscillating between sultry Miami bass and icy IDM textures. Rolling Stone captured its effect succinctly, describing it as a “predictably hip-shaking slice of bubbling noise.”
Co-produced with Mechatok, the track fuses dance-pop, electroclash, and alternative R&B into a tightly wound, club-ready framework. A rubbery bassline underpins ticking synths and sharp, fleeting bursts of electric guitar, while twigs’ electro-processed vocals glide against the song’s clipped, percussive pulse.
Lyrically, ‘HARD’ is more direct than much of twigs’ previous work, but that feels intentional. This is a song engineered first and foremost for the dancefloor, prioritising physical response over abstraction.
If, like me, you’re already anticipating a return to the club next year, expect ‘HARD’ to be unavoidable.
Shimz 343, James Massiah - Holland Park
If there is a song I fell in love with on first listen this year, it is Shimz 343 and James Massiah’s ‘Holland Park’. Built around sweeping, melancholic strings, the track finds Massiah chronicling the slow collapse of a love affair. I’m not entirely sure why it hit as hard as it did - perhaps because I associate Holland Park with a love interest of my own, perhaps because I’ve always had a soft spot for MCs over orchestral arrangements. Either way, I sent it straight to a friend, who immediately agreed it was a masterclass in songwriting and restraint. We both now own the vinyl, and mine is already among my most worn.
Massiah commands the first half of the track, rapping through the widening fissures of a relationship as he leaves his lover’s home, presumably somewhere in Holland Park, after an argument: “you don’t wanna see me now / Don’t see me out / I’m smoking cigarettes then I’m leaving your house.” As the song progresses, loss sets in: “I miss your headboard / I miss your black dress,” followed by the quiet desperation of “If I’m not with you, I’m not just with me / I need company / I can’t sleep yet.” Throughout, Shimz’s orchestral arrangement swells in scale and intensity, mirroring the emotional vacuum opening at the song’s centre.
It is difficult to overstate how affecting ‘Holland Park’ is. Consider this a personal recommendation: give it your full attention. You will not regret it.
Mark William Lewis - Skeletons Coupling
Until I heard Mark William Lewis’ self-titled album, I never assumed his particular strain of rock was for me. I was wrong. After several listens, still yet to purchase a physical copy, ‘Skeletons Coupling’ has emerged as a clear standout, and perhaps my favourite track on the record.
The song carries a spectral, melancholic atmosphere, threading weeping guitar lines through nostalgic electronics and a wistful harmonica. Lewis’ baritone naturally invites comparisons to King Krule and Dean Blunt, but his voice distinguishes itself in its range: sliding between deep, brooding passages and moments of unexpected lightness. These shifts unfold over hypnotic guitar arpeggios and abstract, loosely structured backdrops that resist easy categorisation.
Lyrically, Lewis circles themes of connection and isolation in a blurred, almost impressionistic register. The influence of his upbringing, his father reading him early modernists such as T.S. Eliot and James Joyce, feels present in the song’s elliptical phrasing and hard-to-define ideas.
For anyone uncertain whether this particular strain of guitar music is for them, ‘Skeletons Coupling’ is the ideal entry point: subtle, immersive, and unpacking.
Buy ‘mark william lewis’ here.
kissin’ teef - JUNGLE
I’ve been a fan of, and have looked up to, Kai Isaiah-Jamal since before I was a teenager, so when they first hinted at a move into music, my interest was inevitable. Growing up in London during roughly the same period, we share many cultural reference points and champion similar artists. After teasing freestyles intermittently on Instagram, Kai formally introduced the project with ‘JUNGLE’, their debut track.
‘JUNGLE’ functions as a love letter to London’s multiculturalism while refusing to gloss over its racial and social fractures. It opens with a Noel Gallagher interview in which he lists the excesses of success - “I’ve got £87 million in the bank, I’ve got a Rolls Royce… Am I happy with that? No I’m not, I want more” - before Kai cuts in starkly with “This is England.” What follows is a series of grounded, cutting observations about life in the capital, most memorably: “We didn’t know about Stephen Fry, but we all knew about Stephen Lawrence.” Midway through, the track pauses for an interlude drawn from a viral LBC call, where a caller named Darren celebrates the layered cultural coexistence of his neighbourhood.
Sonically, the track nods to the early-2000s heyday of London grime, rap, and UK funky. The title ‘JUNGLE’ gestures toward the city’s every-person-for-themselves mentality, while the jazz-inflected production carries a soft, reflective nostalgia that offsets the lyrical urgency.
The accompanying video is one of my favourites from this year. Set on a housing estate, it stages moments of racial tension erupting around the block, and grounds the song’s themes in recognisable, everyday spaces.
In a moment defined by social anxiety and political regression, voices willing to articulate discontent with clarity and conviction feel essential. Seeing someone with Kai Isaiah-Jamal’s platform use it to confront, rather than dilute, these realities makes ‘JUNGLE’ feel entirely necessary.
Jim Legxacy - father
Few songs this year achieved what Jim Legxacy’s ‘father’ did. Over an infectious, internet-ready (cue Bouncer adlib) instrumental, Legxacy confronts his fatherless upbringing with disarming openness. The track quickly went mega-viral, racking up millions of views on TikTok and nearing a million on YouTube, aided in part by its nostalgic yet forward-looking music video, directed by UK underground visual mainstay LAUZZA.
Built around a chipmunk-soul flip of George Smallwood’s ‘I Love My Father’, the production transforms its source into something playful and buoyant. Produced by Legxacy alongside regular collaborators Cashy, Joe Stanley, and nabh, with additional input from UKUG stalwart YT, the beat’s lightness works in pointed contrast to the song’s emotional weight.
Lyrically, ‘father’ unpacks the layered trauma of absence and its long shadow over adulthood and intimacy. Framed by two telling soundbites - opening with “Black British music, we’ve been making arses shake since the Windrush,” and closing on “Made in Britain, paid in Britain” - the track feels personal and declarative. In retrospect, it stands as a thesis statement for one of the year’s most defining projects: Black British Music.
Blood Orange, Caroline Polacheck, Lorde, Mustafa - Mind Loaded
There are few songs this year with a more stacked lineup than Dev Hynes’ Blood Orange track ‘Mind Loaded’. Here, the Essex-born songwriter reflects on the loss of his mother and the nostalgia he carries for his upbringing, rendering both through an abstract and deeply intimate lens. It’s a testament to Hynes’s rare ability to fold disparate voices and emotional registers into a single, coherent mood.
Featuring Lorde, Caroline Polachek, and Mustafa, ‘Mind Loaded’ is a dreamy, melancholic lead single from Hynes’s latest album, ‘Essex Honey.’ Lavish cello lines and delicate piano establish a loose, elegiac foundation before the track briefly opens into an electronic swell. The guest vocals, particularly Polachek and Lorde, cut cleanly through the arrangement, deepening its emotional weight.
Across his work as Blood Orange, Hynes has positioned himself as one of contemporary music’s great collaborators, and ‘Mind Loaded’ extends that lineage. Rather than spotlighting the star power of his collaborators, he dissolves it, blurring some of the most distinctive voices in modern pop into something entirely his own. The result is a song that lingers long after it ends, leaving a feeling of quiet devastation, and an aching anticipation for ‘Essex Honey.’
Blood Orange - Mind Loaded (Visualizer) ft. Caroline Polachek, Lorde, Mustafa
aya - Time at the Bar
aya’s ‘Time at the Bar’ is, by design, a difficult listen. It is jarring but cathartic, collapsing metalcore, mathcore, and hardstyle into a single, hostile form. Abrasive, screamed vocals cut through relentlessly compressed drum patterns, generating a nightmarish atmosphere with no sense of relief or release. The track offers no safe passage or resolution; instead, it terminates in a violent silence, leaving the listener suspended in an inaudible purgatory.
Closing out her 2025 album ‘hexed!,’ ‘Time at the Bar’ arrives at the moment where any hope of escape from aya’s apocalyptic universe has been exhausted. Salvation is no longer an option, the listener is left only to submit.
skaiwater - pop
I’d never listened to skaiwater before ‘pop’, and despite trying since, nothing else in their catalogue has landed for me. ‘pop’ exists in a singular pocket: a collision of rage-rap intensity and soft, almost devotional melodicism. It opens with ballad-like electric guitar lines set against trap 808s, before gradually swelling into something more chaotic and orchestral; strings bleeding into pitched-up vocals until the track feels on the verge of collapse.
Narratively, the song charts the implosion of a relationship. skaiwater’s delivery is feathery and dejected, hovering somewhere near Playboi Carti’s baby-voice affect, but stripped of irony - more grounded, more exposed, and emotionally legible.
Jawnino, SURF GANG - Alise
‘Alise’ marks Jawnino’s first collaboration with SURF GANG since the evilgiane-produced ‘3styl3’ remix from his debut album, ‘40,’ and arrives as the lead single from their joint project, ‘amnesia.’ Built on squirming hi-hats, low-end pressure, and soft bleeds of colour, the track is almost impossible to stand still to. Jawnino’s nonchalant, minimalist delivery sits perfectly within the atmosphere, pulling the listener deeper into the bass-heavy, narcotic haze of the production.
Lyrically, he remains as idiosyncratic and visionary as ever. Lines like “Kylie Minogue at Butlins” feel surreal but sharply English, while admissions such as “never had a sweet sixteen, I was in East Sheen.” Che Richards’ chorus is the track’s quiet masterstroke: the split second of tension just before “it’s Elaine” hangs in the air, and when the release comes, it feels euphoric. It’s a small moment, executed with precision, that encapsulates the charm of ‘amnesia.’
EsDeeKid, fakemink, Rico Ace - LV Sandals
Much has already been said about UK underground anthem ‘LV Sandals’. It’s not my favourite EsDeeKid track, but it didn’t go viral on this scale by accident.
From the opening line of the first verse, EsDee asserts his musicality and regional identity in one breath: “In a kush coma, EsDeeKid fried, I’m a fuckin’ stoner.” The dense run of Merseyside “k” sounds gives the bar a percussive snap that feels immediately local but broadly legible with enough phonetic texture to satisfy listeners on either side of the Channel.
‘LV Sandals’ also arrived as one of the underground’s earliest true posse cuts, bringing together EsDeeKid, Fakemink, and Rico Ace - now sitting at roughly 15.8m, 7.8m, and 12.9m listeners respectively, with Rico achieving that reach without even releasing a full project. The track captured a moment before these figures felt inevitable.
Lyrically, it is unabashedly anthemic, offering a snapshot of lives shaped by consumer desire, druggy haze, and the numbed glamour of late-capitalist aspiration. That it became one of the biggest songs of the year (without being EsDee’s biggest), and did so via an independent label, following a deal struck by Lizzy and Xv, is no small achievement. It speaks to how decisively the underground is now steering the cultural current. If this was the benchmark, 2026 can only be louder.
Little Simz - Blood
‘Blood’ is my favourite track on Little Simz’s 2025 album, ‘Lotus.’ Framed as a phone call between siblings, voiced by Simz and Wretch 32, the track centres on their shared anxiety over an ailing mother, while quietly exposing the emotional distance that has opened up between them.
What makes ‘Blood’ so affecting is its restraint. Rather than melodrama, it leans into the pauses and awkward tenderness of siblings who love each other deeply but no longer know how to communicate. It is an exceptionally difficult conceit to execute without tipping into sentimentality, but Simz and Wretch pull it off with remarkable nuance, capturing the complexity, guilt, and quiet resentments that often define sibling relationships. As a result, ‘Blood’ stands as one of the most emotionally resonant moments in Simz’s whole discography.
Lily Allen - Pussy Palace
‘Pussy Palace’ was the first track I heard from Lily Allen’s ‘West End Girl.’ I came across it via an Instagram story and was immediately intrigued. I’d heard plenty about Allen’s autofictional divorce album, but it was ‘Pussy Palace’ that finally compelled me to sit down and give it proper attention.
Within the song’s narrative, ‘Pussy Palace’ refers to the marital home Allen shared with David Harbour, a space that becomes charged with betrayal when she discovers evidence of his infidelity, before exiling him to his “dojo” apartment in the West Village.
The track opens with a sample of the ‘Stranger Things’ theme, a pointed nod to the show that catapulted Harbour to global fame. From there, it snaps into something buoyant and insistently catchy; musically primed for radio, if not for its gleefully unfiltered references to “butt plugs,” “lube,” “Trojans,” and more.
The visualiser is equally on-the-nose. Allen appears dressed as a stiletto-clad nun, evoking the drama and irreverence of a Renaissance painting, an image that neatly mirrors the album’s preoccupation with sex, sanctimony, and spectacle (more on that in my full review of the album).
Joy Crookes, Kano - Mathematics
One of three Kano features on this list, his verse on Joy Crookes’ ‘Mathematics’ is also his shortest, but it loses none of its impact. The track, and its accompanying video, casts Crookes and Kano as a failing marriage, tracing the slow emotional erosion that comes with miscommunication and unmet needs. By the end, Crookes is left “tired, crying on the salon floor… pretty fucking miserable,” while Kano accepts the inevitable, conceding, “There’s no saving this ship from sailing.”
Kano’s verse is dense with reflection and regret, name-dropping high-end chefs, “three dots got me looking at restaurants, Heston,” while slipping into wounded introspection: “Roses are red like my message was left on,” “Maybe the grass would’ve been greener without this shade you’re chuckin’ / Maybe my heart would’ve been cleaner without you sageing cupboards…” It’s some of Kano’s sharpest and most self-aware writing to date, perfectly balancing his MC bravado with emotional vulnerability.
Crookes originally wrote ‘Mathematics’ while dating, and falling for, a French man who ultimately tried to friend-zone her. Kano reportedly joined the track in secret, weaving in his own experiences of love, distance, and disappointment. The result is an intimate, exposed song built on piano and string-led production that feels deeply nostalgic, blending ’60s soul sensibilities with a modern emotional directness that gives the track its quiet, lasting weight.
John Glacier, Sampha - Ocean Steppin’
‘Ocean Steppin’’ arrived as the penultimate single ahead of John Glacier’s latest album, ‘Like A Ribbon,’ and has since emerged as the project’s most-streamed track. The song pairs Glacier’s cool, understated delivery with Sampha’s weightless, melodic presence, their voices drifting past one another intimately.
Its accompanying video, shot by Gabriel Moses, mirrors this restraint. Set against a characterless grey backdrop, Glacier sits rapping and lip-syncing, the minimalism placing full focus on her voice, cadence, and quiet confidence rather than spectacle.
Produced by Kwes Darko, the drum-driven instrumental gradually unfolds, opening into shimmering keys and textured layers. Glacier sounds lost in her own thoughts, ruminating as the track steadily builds, before finally blooming into a lush, expansive crescendo that feels both cathartic and carefully earned.
Fakemink - Easter Pink
Even though it was released on January 17th, British rapper Fakemink had already put out three tracks this year before ‘Easter Pink,’ and he’s released fourteen more since, still without an album. Produced by electronic duo Suzy Sheer, the track pulls from cloud rap and electroclash, sitting just as comfortably alongside a band like Snow Strippers as it does among members of the UK underground such as Fimiguerrero and Esdeekid.
As a rapper, Fakemink is unmistakably a prick. He believes everyone is “stealin’ [his] flow and they stealin’ [his] drip,” casually assures someone he “never meant to fuck on [their] bitch,” and shrugs that “These hoes for everyone, yeah, they takin’ the piss.” Naturally, he’s “speed[ing] through the city in an all-black whip,” accompanied by a “bad bitch pretty with double D tits.” Yet even amid this, at least in his view, glamorous existence, he admits, “I don’t know why the sex money so appealin’,” before reminding us that “[he] still get P even when [he’s] sleepin’.”
Despite the wankerish braggadocio, there’s something undeniably infectious here. Maybe it’s the way he rides the instrumental, or simply the sheer confidence radiating off him. It’s easy to see why Timothée Chalamet labelled Fakemink one of Britain’s most deserving of a Marty Supreme jacket; there are few figures as simultaneously appealing and prickish as Fakemink, or Marty, for that matter.
Ceebo - captain roscoe with a crossbow
‘captain roscoe with a crossbow’ is the musical opener to Ceebo’s defining 2025 mixtape, ‘blair babies.’ Arriving after the scene-setting, straight-spoken ‘1997–2007’, the track’s Dizzee Rascal sample immediately places us in familiar territory: the same world mapped out on Dizzee’s 2003 landmark ‘Boy In Da Corner,’ a world shaped by limited opportunity, youth alienation, and deep distrust of authority. Twenty-two years on, little has changed.
Ceebo wastes no time grounding us in his own upbringing: “I thought that the world was my ends / Had joy but had no dividends.” From there, he snaps us into the present day: “Let’s go two-o-two-five / Where most yutes are on the road to die,” questioning, “Why value life when you could just lose it?” and conceding, “Shit ain’t the same as the old days.”
As a first listen, ‘captain roscoe…’ put me on solid footing with ‘blair babies.’ It sounds sharp and purposeful, rooted in Ceebo’s lived experience while gesturing toward broader structural failures, failures he names more explicitly later on the tape: “Tories made me this / Benefit cuts made shady kids,” among them. If you’re not sold on giving the tape a listen, give ‘captain roscoe…’ a go and see if it pulls you in.
Tara Lily - Corcovado
When news broke of a King Krule–produced Tara Lily EP, the reaction was predictably wild. One of my close friends, quite possibly one of the biggest King Krule fans in the world, was especially delighted. The EP’s first and only single, ‘Tropical Storm,’ featuring King Krule, is naturally its most popular track. But my favourite, ‘Corcovado,’ sits at the opposite end of the spectrum: the least streamed and most overlooked.
At the time of writing, it’s sitting at just under 10,000 streams on Spotify, which feels almost criminal given its quality. The track carries a warm, bossa nova–inflected sound, rooted in something soulful and acoustic. It’s dreamy and jazzy in the most soothing way, the kind of song that slows your breathing without you noticing. More than anything, it feels like a warm summer breeze - gentle, fleeting, and healing.
Dave - The Boy Who Played the Harp
On his third studio album, British music royalty Dave grapples with age, race, money, and political expression. Its closer, and title track, is where he allows himself a glimpse of hope. Across the song, Dave places himself within a series of pivotal historical moments - World War II, the Titanic, the Battle of Karbala - and questions what role he would have played in each: “I sometimes wonder, ‘What would I do in a next generation?’”
From there, he interrogates his own courage and sense of responsibility, drawing uneasy parallels between history and the present: “I talk ‘bout the money in all my accounts, so why don’t I speak on the West Bank?” The track becomes a meditation on the plodding pace of struggle, self-doubt, and the moral weight that comes with visibility and power.
Sonically, the song is anchored by tumbling piano chords and a sample of the Beatles’ ‘And I Love Her,’ gradually building towards something more cinematic in scope. The sparse beginnings give way to rising emotional stakes, mirroring the song’s thematic movement from uncertainty to resolve.
Towards the end, Dave turns inward, grappling with the symbolism of his own name: “Would I fight for justice? Is that the reason my mum named me David?” He reflects on the torch passed down to him by those who came before - “Tried in the fire by Ghetts, I’m anointed / Kano passed me the torch, I received it” - and acknowledges the lineage that shaped him: “my ancestors told me that my life is prophecy.”
Ultimately, the song resolves not in Dave’s own self-aggrandisement, but in collective purpose. Dave locates his strength in community and generational momentum: “It’s not just me, it’s a whole generation of people gradually makin’ change.” With “the will of David” in his heart, he reframes his story not as one of singular destiny, but as part of a much longer fight. A fight that began long before him, and will continue long after.
Buy ‘The Boy Who Played the Harp’ here.
Wretch 32, Kano - Home Sweet Home
It’s been a little over 20 years since Kano released his debut album, ‘Home Sweet Home,’ and in that time, much has changed for the East London MC and his peers, including North London’s Wretch 32. Yet ‘Home Sweet Home,’ from Wretch’s 2025 album ‘Home?,’ finds the pair looking backwards as much as forwards, reminiscing about their childhoods while grappling with the near-glacial pace of racial justice and societal change in Britain.
The track opens with an adolescent Wretch being sent to the shops and getting cussed out by his mum, grounding the song in a familiar, domestic realism that gives way to a bittersweet chorus: “It weren’t home sweet home when the community was gated / It was home sweet home when the community was raging.” Now that Wretch has left where he grew up, he’s left with a nagging absence; he has all the success, but no longer a community to return to.
Kano’s verse, arguably one of the strongest delivered by anyone this year, widens the lens. He reflects on the racist abuse faced by himself and other successful Black British men across generations, cutting sharply with lines like: “Bet Saka never felt Blacker / And Rashford was the bees till finals.” The verse captures the conditional nature of acceptance in Britain: celebration only when Black excellence serves the nation, and condemnation the moment it challenges power: “Take a knee and that’s taking the Michael.”
Together, the track feels like a conversation between two men who are grateful to have escaped the harshness of their upbringing, but are still uneasy with the supposed “sweetness” of suburban life.
Tracey, Riko Dan - Sex Life
Anonymous London music group Tracey emerged this year with ‘Sex Life,’ featuring grime veteran Riko Dan. The track opens provocatively, with a stark, digitally distorted voice repeating “All I wanna do is fuck” in a looped, almost mechanical chant, laid over what sounds like squeaking bed springs. It’s confrontational, crude by design, and deliberately disarming, before a glitchy dubstep melody abruptly hijacks the mix and pulls the track into darker, more physical territory.
Not long after, Riko Dan’s raw, unmistakable drawl cuts through. He slides into the instrumental with total assurance, MCing about his sexual preferences with a learned confidence. His presence grounds the track, transforming what could feel like pure provocation into something more controlled and purposeful. The result is a collision of Grime lineage and hyper-digital club sonics, and it’s abrasive, playful, and unapologetically direct.
Shygirl, BAMBII - Flex
When listening to Shygirl’s ‘Flex,’ an instant screwface feels almost inevitable. It’s the track that made me a Shygirl fan, and it still hits the same every time. Minimal and moody, the song is driven by a destabilising bassline that never quite settles, drawing a tension beneath the surface. Shygirl cuts through it with a precise, staccato verse delivered with a confident and cool sultry edge.
Dark synths and sharp beat switches shape the track as it slides between Shygirl’s vocals and BAMBII’s contributions, giving it a stop-start energy that keeps you locked in. The two share a natural chemistry, trading presence rather than competing for space. At just under two minutes long, ‘Flex’ doesn’t overstay its welcome. Instead, it leaves you wanting more.
dexter in the newsagent - I told ya
This year, I saw dexter in the newsagent live for the second time, the first in an actual newsagent (meta, right?) and this time opening for Jim Legxacy. Needless to say, I’m quite the fan. Last month, she dropped a fantastic mixtape, ‘Time Flies,’ and this little danceable gem, ‘I told ya,’ as one of its singles, all while juggling opening slots for both Jim Legxacy and Blood Orange on their tours.
There’s something magical about the track; no matter the mood - whether it’s a freezing Monday morning with a delayed tube, or a Friday evening as you’re getting ready for date night - it’ll have you moving. On the song, dexter sounds like she’s having fun, singing, “I’ve finally got you off my shoulder / There’s no need to stress today,” over a sample of Lily Allen’s 2006 track ‘Knock ’Em Out.’ The result is an unusually jubilant breakup song, full of bounce and clarity, that more than earns a listen.
Feng - Who do u wanna be
I’m not a fan of Feng’s music. Not because it’s objectively bad, but because it’s simply not for me; I often find his writing lazy and immature, and his voice a little grating. That being said, there is one song of his I find charming: ‘Who do u wanna be.’ Over an enchanting, hypnotic instrumental, courtesy of Lakepine, Feng questions his future and what he’s doing with his life: “We’re just so young, so we’re figurin’ out / This thing called life, man, what’s it about?” It’s a sentiment that lands more sincerely than much of his other work.
Don’t get me wrong, there are still moments where he slips into weaker writing (“I’m a star like I’m one of the states,” being a prime example), but at just 75 seconds long, there isn’t much room for it to drag the song down. Whether you’re a Feng fan or a hater, this one is worth giving a shot. I promise.
Ikonika - Listen To Your Heart
Being as big a Hyperdub fan as I am, I’m slightly embarrassed to admit that ‘Listen To Your Heart’ was one of the first times I’d properly sat with Ikonika’s music. Naturally, seeing the Hyperdub stamp, I went in with high expectations, and it didn’t disappoint. On the track, Ikonika steps into the role of vocalist, a relatively new position for them, and it adds a striking new dimension to their sound.
The song orbits around two simple refrains - “Are you even listening?” and “Listen to your heart” - repeated until you fall into submission.
Around these phrases, the rhythm remains steady and pulsing, never overwhelming but consistently hypnotic. It’s minimal, controlled, and quietly immersive; classic Ikonika in the way it builds atmosphere from the sparsest ingredients.
As a first proper introduction to their catalogue, it’s a pretty perfect entry point.
Buy ‘Listen To Your Heart’ here.
AJ Tracey, Jorja Smith - Crush
There were plenty of things on my 2025 bingo card, but an RnG comeback definitely wasn’t one of them. Still, I’ll take it, especially when it comes packaged as a reunion between AJ Tracey and Jorja Smith. Their joint Live Lounge performances resurface on TikTok every summer like clockwork, and Jorja’s cover of classic grime instrumental ‘Ghetto Kyote’ gets exhumed by some Instagram blog page every few months as if it’s brand-new.
On ‘Crush,’ the pair trade verses (yes, both MCing) sketching out messy romances and all the emotional debris that comes with them, before Jorja floats in with a silky, resigned hook aimed at a troublesome lover. It feels like they’re tapping into a sound they both grew up on while still giving it that 2025 gloss.
And as a fellow Lake Elsinore wearer, the hat AJ’s wearing in the video is insane. I need it immediately.
Ruff Sqwad - Xtra 2025
Few grime instrumentals are as instantly recognisable as Ruff Sqwad’s 2005 classic ‘Xtra.’ Since its release, it’s been shelled down by everyone from Skepta to Sox to Flowdan, and it even served as the backdrop for a 17-year-old Devlin to famously spin Wiley.
On the crew’s latest return to ‘Xtra,’ Slix steps up in full old-school MC mode, making it crystal clear he’s “down” for lyrical war and calling out anyone who’d be the first to go “down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down down.” Yes, he genuinely says it that many times, in one go (and somehow makes it work).
If this one grabs you, check out the full ‘FLEE FM 2’ project, along with the short film that accompanies it. It’s all cut from the same uncompromising cloth.
SHERELLE, George Riley - FREAKY (JUST MY TYPE)
‘FREAKY (JUST MY TYPE)’ is the sole vocal cut on SHERELLE’s debut album ‘WITH A VENGEANCE’, and easily my favourite moment on the project. R&B experimentalist George Riley croons to a pretty girl in the club, both of them inconveniently partnered, confessing, “Been around the world / Seen a lot of pretty girls / But nothing compares to you / And I know you got a man / And baby I do too / But I don’t kiss and tell / It’s true.” Her voice floats over a candied jungle-pop instrumental that feels sweet, illicit, and slightly delirious. As the track builds, it drifts closer to the DJ booth: Riley’s vocals start dissolving into the breaks, becoming another texture rather than the lead.
There’s no doubt that ‘FREAKY…’ became the queer soundtrack of summer 2025, and a bona fide banger. Even my (very straight) dad asked me to add it to his playlist. Within the album, it lands as a refreshing exhale, a bright pop-laced breather amid SHERELLE’s otherwise ferocious, break-heavy barrage. It’s the kind of track that reminds you SHERELLE’s world (SHERELLELAND, even) is a space of joy, desire, and the messy, euphoric blur between them, not just one of intensity.
Buy ‘FREAKY (JUST MY TYPE)’ here.
Dave, Kano - Chapter 16
‘Chapter 16’ is, hands down, one of the best songs to ever emerge from the UK rap scene. The track stages a rare, intimate conversation between Dave and Kano about their respective careers, swapping advice and anecdotes, Kano assuming the role of elder statesman and teacher, and Dave as the high-flying student. Together, they move through Dave’s growth, their relationships with love, and this quiet moment of torch-passing: “My generation got the classic writers / Your gen’, that’s mostly your pain, you’re the rap messiah.” It’s an exceedingly touching exchange between two of Britain’s top talents, and it leaves me hungry, almost impatient, for new music from Kano.
Both MCs are in full lyrical flex, trading intricate wordplay without ever losing emotional clarity. Kano delivers gems like, “God loves a trier, David loves a liar/lyre / But even a harp’s half a heart, so how could Cupid fire?” while Dave counters with, “Paper chasin’ all good till it’s divorce papers / Newspapers, court papers, they all ride my wheels / They gon’ talk about your won’ts, then they divide your wills / That’s how family feels.”
In an era of chemistry-less collaborations and unsubtle lyricism, ‘Chapter 16’ reminds us that the UK’s greatest strength has always been its writers, and when they go back to back, the result is electrifying in a way nothing else can quite match.
Buy ‘The Boy Who Played the Harp’ here.
Natanya - Guitar
2025 has, almost certainly, been the biggest year of Natanya’s career so far. In just a few months, she’s released her Feline’s Return EPs, embarked on a UK and European tour, opened for FLO, PinkPantheress, and Ravyn Lenae, and landed major features in Clash, Notion, and The Face (right next to me! ;)). For Natanya, though, this momentum felt inevitable, the culmination of years spent carving out a sound that balances glossy R&B futurism with warm-blooded pop confession.
Thus far, my favourite track of hers is ‘Guitar.’ It’s a sultry, impassioned pop belter, drawing from the velvet sensuality of Janet Jackson to the sleek minimalism of AlunaGeorge, with hints of Brandy’s honeyed vocal layering woven throughout. Natanya’s delivery walks a tightrope between cool restraint and emotional urgency, each ad-lib and breathy exclaim engineered to pull you just a little closer.
The music video leans fully into her visual identity. It sees her dancing against her signature black-and-white stripes while polka dots, grey splashes, and flickering lyrics cut across the frame, giving it the energy of a fever-dream moodboard. Natanya is building a fully fledged aesthetic universe, one song at a time, and it’s only a matter of time before her artistry takes over the world entirely.
Sampha - Cumulus / Memory
‘Cumulus / Memory’ was Sampha’s only solo output for 2025, and it lands with the quiet introspection that has defined some of his best work. The single’s cover shows him looking out over a body of water, an image that mirrors the mood of the music: reflective, wandering, and suspended in an emotional drift. Across the two-in-one track, Sampha moves between hazy contemplation and something a little more urgent.
The first half, ‘Cumulus,’ is dreamy and understated, with Sampha gliding over gentle piano chords and light, brushed drums. In the second half, the production grows denser and more layered, widening the track’s emotional scope without losing its softness. The lyrics stay abstract and metaphor-heavy, but there are repeated nods to a lover - perhaps distant, perhaps missing - that give the song a subtle ache.
‘Cumulus…’ was actually the first track recorded for his 2023 album Lahai, but it took him more than two years to shape and refine it for release. The final version features additional vocals from the xx’s Romy and added production from El Guincho, both of whom help colour the track’s shift from its cloudlike beginnings into its more textured, reflective second half.