The FADER's Songs You Need In Your Life are our picks for the most exciting and essential new music releases out there. Every day, we update this page with new selections. Listen on our Spotify and Apple Music playlists or hear them all below.

From the onset, Ruby Bell's new single is a glitchy, high-energy club track that starts as chiptune trance before dropping into a catchy, gabber-inspired hyperpop. Catchy, euphoric, and completely on-the-fritz, “We Were at the Club” is a pitchy, heavily processed piece of ear candy that’s so sweet, you could almost call it “tooth cavity club.” — Sandra Song

Kim Gordon put out an excellent rage rap album earlier this year, but actual full-time MCs were conspicuously absent from the record. She remedies the omission on “razzmatazz,” a joint track with rapper-producer duo model home. With co-production from Gordon’s frequent collaborator Justin Raisen, and model home’s p cain behind the decks, Gordon and NAPPYNAPPA (the duo’s rapping half) don’t so much trade bars as wrap their vocal tracks around each other, creating a tangle that’s often incomprehensible but always interesting. — Raphael Helfand

There’s something French Touch-y feel-y about the new single from Dan Snaith’s long-running Caribou project. “Come Find Me” has the soft synth chords and yearning vocals of a lost Stardust single, where a graze on the dancefloor can power deep connection. But here, the vibe is less disco-inspired and more sunrise rave-toned, with more and more splendid colors breaking through as the track’s rapture grows. — Jordan Darville

DJBLACKMETA — the duo of ONO frontman travis and American Dreams label head Jordan Reyes, who is also a member of the long-running Chicago “industrial gospel” outfit — have announced themselves to the world with two surprise projects. The BLACKOUT EP is the more esoteric of the two, beginning with a track titled “N.S.S.S.” in which Reyes’s production is at its bleakest and most harrowing behind travis’s horrifying vocalizations. But the tape’s title track meets the listener in a slightly more recognizable place, if still a dark one. Here, travis’s free-associative poetry wraps around a slow march of shadowy synths, slithering keys, and monolithic percussion. “I am paralyzed,” he repeats throughout the song before spiraling into a glossolalia crescendo as cathartic as it is claustrophobic. The track ends with a haunted rendition of the gospel standard “I’ll Fly Away” that toes the line between transcendence and total despair. — Raphael Helfand

There isn’t an easy way to categorize nondi_'s sound, which Planet Mu says is influenced by Detroit techno, breakcore, and footwork. Perhaps it’s because songs like “linear (extra) horizon” are created from partially improvised and half-imagined versions of these incredibly distinct genres, which the Pennsylvanian producer has only heard online in the solitude of their bedroom. Waning in and out, the echo and reverb are in constant fux, with erratic levels and see-sawing synths that make listening to it feel like getting lost in a lucid dream. Otherwise, the only sense of grounding comes from the steady chug of a Detroit-adjacent bassline, sounding low and strained beneath the surreal trill of a footwork break with the pace of a glitching pogo stick, twacked-out string orchestra, and the warbly ringing of a fucked up phone. — Sandra Song

With A Hammer, Yaeji's excellent 2023 album, reframed destruction as a prelude to rebirth. Coming out of the other side of that project, which included forays into jazz and ambient territory, the Korean American New Yorker has reassessed her breakout success and her relationship to the smooth joy of club bangers. "booboo" is a new song in which Yaeji addresses and samples her 2017 breakout "RainGurl," a track that blew up quickly and meant the club was no longer a neutral space. "I wasn't really ready at the time," she sings over a pumping techno beat, "You know how the growing pains just don't stop." Seven years down the line, things are different. Yaeji " really knows the joys of life" and is no longer afraid. Proof that she's no longer anxious in the club? Yaeji blows up the spot: you'll find her down the front and on the right. That's where the joy is. — David Renshaw

Malice K often toes the line between irony and sincerity — flipping platitudes into double-take-inducing insights, and well-worn structures into surprising earworms. But track 2 on Malice K’s new album AVANTI, shows a different side of the NYC-via-PNW singer-songwriter's talents. Here, he seems less fixated on twisting tropes than on pure songcraft, and the shift in focus pays dividends. “Hold Me Up” is still highly referential: There’s a bit of unabashed pop-punk here, mixed with Silent-indebted guitar and maybe even a little Fountains of Wayne in the say the way the verses and hooks click together like cogs in an immaculately efficient machine. But where Malice K’s own big-picture contributions to the sum of these parts sometimes felt like party tricks in the past, each is its own exciting new idea here. — Raphael Helfand

Listening to JEMS!’s “CREEPIN” is like entering a time warp and coming out with a pair of fresh Air Maxes and a Dixie cup-colored tracksuit. It’s a smooth and sensual throwback to the late ‘80s, with Oakland-based vocalist Elujay channeling the kind of melismatic charisma that defined the lush vocal melodies associated with contemporary R&B musicians like Alexander O’Neal. Meanwhile, Baltimore-based producer J. Robb uses a laid-back bass line to form the basis of a rich, orchestral arrangement of synthetic strings. Against the bite of its kicker backbeat and the slightly hazy production, Robb incorporates a touch of ‘90s pop to create the perfect support for Elujay’s alluring croon, turning it into an easy, unhurried head-bobber that’s absolutely swoon-worthy. — Sandra Song

In the world of industrial minimalism, emptyset are about as industrial and minimalist as they come. “Ore,” their first single since last October’s Ash EP, finds the Bristol duo at their starkest and least inviting. On a summer Friday full of dense, unforgiving music, why not commit to wallowing in a dank, windowless room and unleash your evilest, most misanthropic self. — Raphael Helfand

Toxic relationships aren’t good for much except memorable music. The first single from the Boston-based singer-songwriter’s upcoming fourth album returns to the avant-pop breakup melodrama of her EP Contact and gives it a slightly dancier, frostier feel. Riya Mahesh’s ear for detail is sharper than ever: the sparse production eventually blooms into a dynamic wave, urged on by the baroque flourishes smattered below her lyrics, where she sings heavily of “Tiptoes on the doorstep / Things you can’t take back.” Add in the moments of ironic humor (“It’s Halloween, and you look so pretty right now / Dressed as a clown”) and it makes you feel the climatic revelation — “God I love you when you cry / But I need you when you lie” — as deeply as a bear trap, refusing to let go. — Jordan Darville

Rejjie Snow sounds effortless and carefree as he rides a typically sleek beat courtesy of Kaytranada. The Irish rapper reels off a stream of consciousness between the billowing production and Dana Williams' vocal runs, name-dropping Pokémon and Madlib instrumentals alongside memories of acid-fried festival afternoons. Only a mention of a "broken planet" threatens to temper the mood but no crisis can bring Snow down to earth as he floats over proceedings. — David Renshaw

The first solo album from slowcore legend Alan Sparhawk following the death of his creative and life partner, Mimi Parker, doesn’t sound like one might expect. Instead of the subtle, often devastating soft noise anthems he and Parker crafted as Low, his new music is built on electronic, almost clubby instrumentals, over which he delivers his vocals in a cloud of extreme Auto-Tune — picture 808s era Kanye crossed with Sentiment-era claire rousay. On “Get Still,” which follows lead single “Can U Hear,” the initial surprise has worn off, but we’re still left digest a document that’s undoubtedly colored by grief, but not obviously so. “Eighty acres of trill / Everybody on strip pill / Body on drip kick / And it’s so much wicked,” he sings early on. “(Ahh) Unmistakable ooh and / (Ahh) What’s that end / (Ahh) I can’t plan.” — Raphael Helfand

Pleasure, compromise, and holding onto a moment are all part of a highwire balancing act on "The Hand That I Put Down." New York-based Starcleaner Reunion's latest single is a dreamy exploration of what it takes to be truly content and whether that ideal is even possible. The guitars add a gauzy power-pop kick with vocalist Jo Roman summing up the fleeting nature of joy when she sings, "Happiness comes around for a minute. Changes, I grasp, and I address." The trick, she suggests, is to grab it while you can. — David Renshaw

There’s a lot to dislike about the solo single from the ex-black midi member. A six-minute narrative spun by a wannabe womanizer in a bar whose fantasies get increasingly desperate and vulgar is not something you’d probably eagerly cop to listening to when you’re discussing favorite new songs on a third date. And as tired as the “But he’s being ironic!” excuse would be in 99% of cases, Greep pulls it off with absurd style. A proggy excursion into the discography of Steely Dan with a heavy dose of classic Brazilian pop, “Holy, Holy” turns the insufferable delusion of its misogynistic central character into an energy it’s tough to tear your ears away from. — Jordan Darville

Dealers of God have always known how to properly harness the absurdist power of plunderphonics, making some of the most fascinatingly fucked up sounds for an incredibly fucked up time. On “Green Ketamine,” the Australian collective combine everything from a vogue clap track to a W.W.E. parody to Kraftwerk man-machine vocoders to generic New Age albums. What differentiates “Green Ketamine” from Dealers of God’s prior work, however, is the prevalence of paranoid, half-rapped lyrics that sound straight out of an anti-vaxx Facebook conspiracy group, with allusions to Big Pharma, the fentanyl crisis, C.I.A. cover-ups and, of course, the Clintons are also sprinkled into the mix. It feels like a Sun Ra-inspired message of scrambled musical codes and outer space transmissions or, at the very least, like a Tony Robbins-led Ayahuasca trip, where the goal is to also become a person who can sedate themselves to the world’s troubles with a big, fat stash of potent and pure green ketamine. — Sandra Song

The final taste of Starchris, Chris Taylor’s third LP as Body Meat, is a six-and-a-half-minute saga that marks a mid-album peak in the record’s rising action. Inspired by RPGs like Elden Ring, Taylor sought to build a project with a heroic story arc, and “Crystalize” represents a moment in which our protagonist clarifies the purpose of his journey. “I am new inside,” he sings during an early pause in the song’s building beat, in a stretched falsetto that evokes Ecco2K at his most tortured. “I am still changing,” he adds later as the trap drums and clubby synths crescendo toward a climax. “I don’t wanna be anything… But if all of my dreams came true, maybe I could go away.” — Raphael Helfand

Barcelona rapper Bb trickz and Atlanta MC Karrahboo are a match made in heaven. “Pharrell,” presumably named for its Neptunes-indebted beat — another multinational effort, from Brooklyn’s EliWTF, Germany’s $irwave, and Spain’s Leodaleo — is a slick display of Bb and Karrah’s flows, linguistically disparate but both casually brash. “Me saco la polla y te la pongo en la frente” (“I whip out my dick and put it on your forehead”), trickz begins, a tongue-in-cheek flex that sets the tone for the rest of her hook. Karrah echoes the vibe in her own verse: “Doctor want me take my meds, say I'm missing screws / All this archive in my closet, don't know what to choose,” she raps, sounding just as effortlessly unhinged as her collaborator. — Raphael Helfand

Miami quartet Seafoam Walls return with a new song that embodies their self-penned genre of “Caribbean jazz-gaze.” Lively polyrhythms stutter and crash beneath a web of prismatically distorted guitar shredding and buttery vocals for a tenderly bruised cut of art rock that you can headbang to. — Jordan Darville

Kolumbo’s “Sandy Legs” makes you feel like you're sitting in an open-air Brazilian tiki lounge as Frank LoCasto performs his eight-track take on Brazilian tropicália. Inspired by bossa nova vanguards like Walter Wanderly and João Donato, “Sandy Legs” is breezy psych-pop at its craftiest and most curious, produced with a light-hearted whimsy that doesn’t expose the underlying complexity of its funky melodic swells. So even with its surge of sweeping keyboard runs, space-age guitar riffs, and the retro-futurist twinkle of an unexpected glockenspiel, “Sandy Legs” sounds succinct while holding onto the feeling of spontaneity that comes with an improvised jam session or the unbothered jazz lounge vibe inside a dimly lit basement, somewhere in the middle of São Paulo. — Sandra Song

The lead single from Fievel is Glauque’s sophomore LP is a melee of polyrhythms and dense harmonies hiding just below a placid surface. According to keyboardist and chief arranger Zach Phillips, he and singer Ma Clement abandoned their usual, linear improvisation process for “As Above,” opting instead to piece together “scattered song sections” recorded on a laptop mic over a ’70s drum sample, which was later reinterpreted live by percussionists Gaspard Sicx and Daniel Rossi for the track’s final version. Phillips refers to the song as the group’s “most conventional tune,” but while it’s true that Clement’s top line is breezier and poppier, the instrumental’s patchwork churn follows no tradition but Fievel’s own. — Raphael Helfand

This isn’t the Iceage frontman’s first rodeo when it comes to incorporating a little Townes Van Zandt grit into his releases — it’s just his most overt. On “No One Else,” Rønnenfelt is left to his own self-destructive devices, simultaneously yearning for his lost love as flickers of his accent are sprinkled throughout the brisk folk-country production. And while his breath can’t be considered as hard as kerosene, there’s still a familiar sense of loneliness to his songwriting, which is reflected by his stumble around old Las Vegas in the music video, completely blind to the crowds and bright lights of Fremont Street. — Sandra Song

There is a playful air to Melbourne's Folk Bitch Trio, a group that serves its laid-back acoustic sound with a shot of vodka rather than a cup of coffee. "God's A Different Sword" invokes The Body Keeps the Score while indulging in behavior destined to leave a mark. Gracie Sinclair, Jeanie Pilkington, and Heide Peverelle sing of bad habits and moments of weakness as their harmonies lock together and their spirits carry them through to the next untimely slip-up. — David Renshaw

“Easy Rider Geneva Heat” is the definitive turning point for Unrecognisable, a concept record from Lolina, a.k.a. the Relaxin Records artist formerly known as Inga Copeland. Part of a larger multimedia project about anti-government resistance members Paris Hell and Geneva Heat, the unexpectedly smooth ‘80s synth tune is a complete surprise after six twisted songs of hair-raisingly hellish discordance. But that doesn’t mean you should dismiss the threatening undertone of “Easy Rider Geneva Heat,” with its murky production limited to a single Casio SK-200 sampling keyboard. It’s like a mad, menacing version of Molly Nilsson leftfield synth-pop, only made infinitely eerier with the strangely deadpan whine of Lolina’s pitched-up brat vocals. — Sandra Song

Xiu Xiu’s two new tracks — released as a double single alongside the announcement of their next album, 13" Frank Beltrame Italian Stiletto with Bison Horn Grips — sit opposite ends of the spectrum. While “Veneficium” is an upbeat, raucous ride into the abyss, “Arp Omni” is a slow, haunted love song — a “sweetie ballad about falling for a person who takes risks in life,” according to the experimental rock trio. The song begins in pulsing darkness before the warm, gentle light of synth strings washes in. “With freckles as sparkling as yours / Who could dare to un-sparkle your dots,” Jamie Stewart begins, his deep, quavering voice as shadowy as ever. After a series of similar professions, he turns his gaze inward. “I have done almost nothing right / My entire adult life / But having dared to touch the fire with you.” — Raphael Helfand

Seminal dubstep figure Joker’s 2024 return has revealed the Bristol-based musician and DJ as an artist still hungry to challenge. “Elastic Band” finds the creator of aquacrunk and purple as eager to distinguish himself as ever, kicking off with sparse drums that keep an alien tempo and truly demented synths that streak back and forth. A wash of Benny Benassi “Satisfaction” synths wipes the slate clean into a squelchy, two-stepping feast for the senses. — Jordan Darville

Dean Blunt has been dropping music surreptitiously on the dennafrancesglass YouTube channel, often deleting the tracks he posts in a matter of days or weeks. Last night saw the arrival of a new Babyfather song, the second previously unreleased track from Blunt’s cult-favorite duo with DJ Escrow in less than a month, following a lull of almost a year and a half. “bluey vuitton” is notable partly because it’s out via slightly more official channels than the last few have been, but mostly due to the fact that it’s produced by EvilGiane, the Surf Gang leader who’s quickly becoming one of the world’s most in-demand beatmakers. Over his low-fi plugg instrumental, Escrow and Blunt rap about sketchy exes: Escrow, who goes for about 32 bars, details a financial sort of shiestiness, while Blunt’s verse, the significantly shorter, is much more nuanced. “She's a bit older than me / A little bit litter than me / Little less smarter than me / Not how it's meant to be,” he explains. “She thinks she's blowing my mind / Doin’ that thing with her wine / I'm doing nothing but cryin' / Can't even speak my mind.” — Raphael Helfand

Some people will find the first few seconds of Thotcrime’s “Garden Court” absolutely unbearable. But make it past the exaggerated emo whine and overly emotive MIDI wheeze, and you’ll end up taking a bizarre, head-throttling roller coaster ride where bubbly traces of hyperpop meet Carti-style cloud-rap beats, before bursting into a chaotic blast of discordant cybergrind stabs and post-hardcore breakdowns. It’s a jarring listen, defined by abrasive sonic extremes, an acrid attitude, and visceral hostility towards everything and everyone. — Sandra Song

Toxe is label mates with Bladee and Yung Lean and shares a similar approach to pastel melodies with a bite of melancholy. "Pillow Fight" is the latest single from her upcoming album Toxe 2, which is due later this month. Pianos dance around her Swedish vocals while a whirring synth crunches underneath. The mix of industrial and ghostly sounds combine to create an otherworldly take on pop. — Davd Renshaw

Fire sprites and ripped-up bodies sit alongside one another on yunè pinku's spiritual new song "Believe." The London-based producer and vocalist honors her faith, sharing the ecstasy of being looked over by a powerful figure. "I can hear you calling from the other side," she sings over chiming guitars and reverb-heavy drums. The song, which represents a move away from her more usual clubby material toward a more pop-oriented sound, will appear on yunè pinku's upcoming EP, Scarlet Lamb — David Renshaw

The lead single from cg8’s newly announced album, [the] 8th cumming, is not a Radiohead cover. Instead, the irreverent four-piece music and meme outfit unleash an explosive riot grrrl anthem, a tongue-in-cheek tour story — missed flights, stolen luggage, etc. — over bright synths and a pumping rhythm section. After several listens, I can safely and uncontroversially say that cumgirl8’s “Karma Police” is better than the “original.” — Raphael Helfand

If there was a musical equivalent to a sedative, it would probably be something like NEW YORK’s sparse, dopamine-drained “rapstar.” Far from a track that evokes visions of hyped-up parties and hedonistic pleasure, the deadpan duo take a minimalist blend of choppy vocal samples, disruptive glitching, and electro-dance tropes and turn them into an eerie, irony-pilled reproduction of that ‘00s lo-fi bloghaus sound. In NEW YORK’s mutated vision of the future, we can all be rapstars capable of 15 minutes of fame. Just make sure it happens before the song comes to its off-puttingly abrupt end. — Sandra Song

For over a decade, TR/ST (a.k.a. Robert Alfons) has been producing dark synth-pop gems reflective of the underbelly of L.A.’s underground party scene. In this sense, “Dark Days” feels right at home within the seedy, smoke-stained psychodrama that long defined his body of work. Haunted by Alfons’ creeping croon and penchant for grimy, low-end production, it’s a strange and unsettling track capturing the ominous edge of nightlife’s low-lit lust and oddly isolating nature. “Dark Days” is a brooding embodiment of the odd interactions that keep you up at night and the off-putting experiences you wish to forget, which Alfons describes in a release as “flashes that show you where you have unfinished business.” — Sandra Song

The new single from Machine Girl, the quietly influential industrial breakcore duo, spikes their sound with gothy pop moods a la Pretty Hate Machine-era Nine Inch Nails. The opening melody is strangely goofy, even jolly, a subtle hint at the digital chaos they manipulate so masterfully. — Jordan Darville

After emerging as a classically-trained cellist creating knotty, essential experimental dance music, Oliver Coates quickly attracted the film industry’s attention; he became an in-demand composer, scoring acclaimed films like Aftersun and The Stranger. “Ultra valid,” the first song from his upcoming album Throb, shiver, arrow of time has the cinematic feel that made Coates such a natural fit for the film industry, but the scope is much wider. The melodies of Coates’s cello carry a folksy lament to them; it’s like we’re hearing the tale of a centuries-old blood feud processed through electronic pedals and surrounded by ambient drone. — Jordan Darville

East African DJ Kampire’s captivating new compilation A Dancefloor in Ndola — inspired by the music she heard during her formative years in the Zambian metropolis — hits a high point on “Ngoma Mansia,” a propulsive ‘90s cut from Congolese singer and balafon player Princesse Mansia M’Bila. Backed by dashing drums, a hypnotic guitar lick, and a jumpy bass line, M’Bila sings commanding, frenetic melodies that add intensity to a track already teeming with polyrhythmic life. Landing somewhere between classic ‘90s soukous and later, clubbier styles like Tanzanian singeli, “Ngoma Mansia” shines brightly on a masterfully curated mixtape full of transportive grooves. — Raphael Helfand

Over time The 1975 have slowly woven electronic textures into their sprawling albums, with the band's George Daniel producing glitchy and propulsive tracks such as "How To Draw/Petrichor" on 2018's A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships. This year, however, Daniel has switched from being a drummer with an active Discogs account to a full-blown artist in his own right. There is his work on Brat, of course, plus the launch of dh2, a spin-off of Dirty Hit focused on electronic music that he helms. Now comes the final stage in his evolution, a solo single. "Screen Cleaner" is light and heavy in the right places, a refreshing slice of festival techno strung together by the sound of a ringing phone line. There's a muscularity to the groove as well as a pleasing lowkey-ness to the whole thing, a musician more used to headlining festivals enjoying the freedom of making music for sweaty dancefloors. — David Renshaw

Despite the production predominantly relying on relatively common indie riffs and angsty exclamations, “Little Splinters” still easily wrangles your attention between sprinkles of melodic distortion with big ‘90s Garbage vibes. That said, it’s really Leah Lavinge’s voice that’s the true star of the show, delivering her quiet, bedroom-style balladry with a lonely warble reminiscent of a Tammy Wynette-style country star. — Sandra Song

“Bad Bitty” was an instant classic when it dropped earlier this year, broadcasting the sunnyside of Milwaukee lowend in the dead of winter. Here, J.P is joined by a Memphis rapper with a song-of-the-summer contender of his own, but the “Slut Me Out 2” artist seems to have no issue working with the competition. NLE Choppa’s verse on the new remix isn’t anything revolutionary — and it’s not like “Bad Bitty” is in need of rejuvenation — but it’s impressive how smoothly he slides into the song’s silly scenery: a geeked-up country store at the intersection of Sicko Mobb and Reginald Wrangler. — Raphael Helfand

The first single from Detroit-based rapper J.U.S’s upcoming album acts as a resurrection twice over. Chip$, a rapper who is also a part of Danny Brown’s crew Bruiser Brigade, makes a rare yet fiery appearance on the track produced by Squadda B, whose barreling beat sounds like he put an entire party inside of a kick drum and went apeshit on it. It’s a timely reminder of the endless creativity that fuelled Squadda as half of the influential cloud rap duo Main Attrakionz. Sometimes the best parties are the ones that feel over before suddenly coming back to life. — Jordan Darville

Somewhere at the intersection of Swervedriver at their heaviest, Craig David at his most angelic, and Ice Spice if she binged midwest emo and stopped writing lines about doo doo feces, lies the new Jane Remover song. Drill rap tip-toeing into the digicore space isn’t particularly new, but Jane Remover crosses the border on “Flash in the Pan,” barring up like never before: Here’s just one killer line: “Pretty boys said I was just a flash in the pan / I can take a flow if I can’t take a man.” The braggadocio is cut with self-doubt, but paradoxically, it leads to a new kind of purity. — Jordan Darville

Have you ever wanted to screw every miserable part of life into a ball and toss it out of the nearest window? "Sick Of The Blues" feels like moving out of a crowded space and finally being able to move freely again. In full-throated fashion, Dana Margolin explodes in ecstatic joy as she rejects torturing herself and declares she is "gonna give into everything," instead. It doesn't feel out of character for a band whose intensity has always been memorable. This time round, though, the dial has been switched from turmoil to something far brighter. The change suits them. — David Renshaw