If anyone tells you 2024 was anything less than an absolute win for new music, they clearly spent the year with their head stuck in a bin. While the world outside might have been doing its best impression of a dumpster fire, our headphones have been blessed with an embarrassment of riches. From bright-young-things becoming even brighter to established faves finding new gears, the last twelve months have delivered more golden moments than we can count.

That's where this list comes in. Over the next few days, we'll be celebrating the very best tracks 2024 had to offer – from chart-destroying anthems to underground gems that deserve their moment in the spotlight. So grab your party hat, pour yourself something fizzy, and join us as we count down the defining songs of 2024.

100-91 | 90-81 | 80-71 | 70-61 | 60-51 | 50-41 | 40-31 | 30-21 | 20-11 | 10-1

'Suffocate' isn’t just a furious anthem, though. It’s a gateway into the world of metal and hardcore that offers people a much-needed place to vent. After causing waves in the heavy music scene, the pair took things even further with an unapologetic performance on Jimmy Kimmel. Parents complained the televised gig traumatised their children, while others demanded a formal apology from the late-night TV host. “For a long time now, our goal has been to see how far we could squeeze this band into places where we don’t fit,” said Knocked Loose vocalist Bryan Garris shortly afterwards. “If it scared you, good.”

There's how to return and then there's 'People Watching'. A soaring anthem that even Bruce Springsteen would be jealous of having in the back pocket, it arrived as the perfect reintroduction for Sam Fender - one that lays his intentions for world domination grander than ever. Written about a loved one who found themselves in a care home, everything about it captures what makes Sam brilliant. A chorus built for stadiums. An unflinching portrayal of modern Britain in all its chips and flaws. A sky-high sax chorus. It's all there and then some. For that, it may sit as one of Sam's greatest to date - a man of the people anthem for a man many see as the very best doing it right now. With 'People Watching', it's hard to argue against him.

Maggie Rogers has mastered the art of a dreamy guitar and breezy vocals, and there's no finer example than 'So Sick of Dreaming'. A standout from her third album, 'Don't Forget Me', 'So Sick of Dreaming' is a deeply warm, soulful track that sees Maggie emerge on the up after grappling with a lover who didn't quite know how to prioritise her properly. Exasperatedly recalling being stood up in favour of Knicks tickets, it feels like a mocking conversation over drinks with friends, bathed in an intimacy that soaks through the rest of the album. "By the way, the Knicks lost," Maggie laughs in the final chorus, and it feels close to karmic. With her storytelling evidently as strong as ever, 'So Sick of Dreaming' is nostalgic and light even at its most frustrated - the tambouring that comes as the song draws to a close truly drives that vibrancy home.

English Teacher's 'I'm Not Crying, You're Crying' stands as one of those rare musical moments that reconfigures what post-punk can achieve in 2024. Nestled within their Mercury Prize-winning debut 'This Could Be Texas', the track unfolds with the precision of a Swiss timepiece gone deliberately, brilliantly askew.

The architecture is deceptively intricate. Lily Fontaine's deadpan delivery serves as an anchor point before everything splinters into glorious disarray - fevered guitars interlock with restless bass patterns like pieces of an ever-shifting jigsaw.

Rather than settling into familiar patterns, the track delights in wrong-footing its audience. The tension builds through strategic disruption, creating something akin to a perfectly executed magic trick where misdirection becomes art.

Fontaine's lyrics - constructed entirely from "I'm not..." statements - provide an elegant counterweight to the instrumental density. This minimalist approach to wordplay creates fascinating friction against the rich musical backdrop, demonstrating the band's gift for multi-layered composition.

The end product marries meticulous planning with raw energy. It's post-punk refracted through multiple prisms - free jazz, math rock, art pop - yet emerges with its own distinct DNA intact. It's a track that turns 'I'm not' into the most positive of statements.

Breakup anthems typically swing between tear-soaked ballads and rage-fueled screeds, but Chloe Qisha has done something deliciously different. 'Sexy Goodbye' turns romantic detective work into pop art.

Nestled between the track's infectious disco beats and shimmering synths lies an absolutely savage roll call of names. "Stacy from yoga," "Charlotte from work" – each one delivered with the kind of deadpan precision that would make a film noir detective blush. It's essentially a breakup song disguised as a private investigator's case file, complete with receipts.

The genius here isn't just in the naming and shaming (though that's undeniably satisfying). It's how Qisha transforms what could have been a bitter exposé into something that sparkles with wit and self-awareness. The production, helmed by Rob Milton, wraps these revelations in layers of 80s-inspired synth-pop that feels like stumbling upon someone's incriminating text messages while dancing at Studio 54.

It's Nancy Drew for the Instagram age, set to an irresistible beat.

With the shock dissolution of Black Midi earlier this year, all eyes were on what frontman Geordie Greep would get up to next. Hands up who had 'singing like the Grinch in a bowling alley' on their bingo cards – no, none of you? Well tough luck, because on 'Holy Holy', that's what he did. Bizarrely compelling and carried by a confidence and musical ability which makes it work against all odds, it's genuinely like nothing else you'll hear this year. Loungecore jazz-sax meets creepy Christmas villain. What else could you possibly want?

'Never Need Me' showcases Rachel Chinouriri's evolution from indie darling to full-fledged alternative force. Bottling the precise moment of choosing self-preservation over saving someone else, that bittersweet realisation when helping becomes enabling, it's the kind of track that feels like a friend delivering hard-won wisdom over late-night drinks. Rachel's signature vocals dance through carefully constructed harmonies, occasionally breaking into playful speak-singing reminiscent of mid-2000s British pop icons. Carrying deft emotional heft, it allows the North London artist's distinctively frank songwriting to shine; a rare gift that makes both 'Never Need Me' and its parent album essential listening for 2024. This is Rachel Chinouriri without filters, footnotes or hesitation.

Plus! The accompanying video features an inspired cameo from Academy Award nominee and Rachel fan Florence Pugh.

Nieve Ella has spent the past few years establishing herself as an indie rock darling, inspired by the likes of Sam Fender, Wunderhorse and Inhaler. Ganni Top (She Gets What She Needs) is a delicious left turn though. Sleek, self-empowered and oh-so-playful, the poptastic banger giddily follows the same path taken by Charli XCX and Sabrina Carpenter without feeling like a cheap knock-off. “I didn’t want to feel like this cutesy, girly musician who only writes about love; I wanted to feel powerful and feminine,” she told Dork earlier this year. “And if I’m going to do something, I’m going to fully do it.”

There’s a cathartic rage behind the glistening track and the whole joyful thing feels like a celebratory purge. The track also kicks open the door to whatever comes next, with Nieve Ella clearly comfortable as both a swaggering rock star and an undeniable pop icon.

To have a track whose main message revolves around leaving a taste of yourself on an ex-lover that their new lover will then in turn taste may not sound like the go-to you'd have put money on topping the charts in 2024 - but Sabrina Carpenter has changed the rulebook. Beaming with main character swagger, Sabrina became the mainfestation of everyone's hopes when it comes to confident defiance in love. 'Taste' is Carpenter at her most vital and charming - whip-smart lines and infectious hooks land across mammoth 80s drums, sitting as the knock-the-door-down smash from 'Short n' Sweet' that's made to be screamed back at the highest of volumes. No fucks given, 'Taste' is the furthest you can get from crying in the corner about a lost love.