Some years glide by. 2025 absolutely did not. It lurched, snapped, fizzed, spiralled, and yet spat out moments of such clarity, chaos and brilliance that they somehow made the whole thing feel worth it.

As always, we’ve argued, sulked, shifted things up and down spreadsheets at 1am, changed our minds, changed them back, and eventually landed on a Top 100 that captures the full, messy shape of the year. Some of these records arrived with full blockbuster fanfare; others crept in sideways and refused to leave. Some are debuts that signalled a door blowing open; some are by artists who’ve never felt more in command. What they all share is that special jolt that something real was happening, whether it was shouted from rooftops or whispered into headphones.

That’s the version of the year we’re counting down over December, not the tidy narrative the machine likes to pretend exists, but the one we actually lived through. The one full of odd left-turns, tiny triumphs, emotional haymakers, ridiculous bangers, huge statements, quiet killers and albums that lodged themselves so firmly under our skin we’re still shaking them loose over the festive nut roast.

Across this two weeks, we’ll be revealing the list bit by glorious bit. Just the albums that made our hearts race, our brains fizz and our year make a tiny bit more sense. From the cult favourites to the big hitters, this is 2025 as we heard it: brilliant, unpredictable, occasionally unhinged, and absolutely worth celebrating.

100-81 | 80-61 | 60-41 | 40-21 | 20-11 | 10-6 | 5 | 4 | 3 | 2 | 1

Twenty years since Paramore’s feisty, heartfelt debut ‘All We Know Is Falling’, you’d think we’d be able to predict Hayley Williams’ next move by now. But, no. From the moment scuzzy punk-rock party-starter ‘Mirtazapine’ was shared by a local Nashville radio station, ‘Ego Death At A Bachelorette Party’ has been a viciously exciting celebration of artistic liberation.

The initial 17 songs were shared as a free download and circulated around the internet, reminiscent of the exploratory days of MySpace, while the project to determine the album’s official track listing inspired fan art and friendly discussions about the finer points of a perfect playlist. The staggered release of three new tracks – ‘Parachute’, ‘Showbiz’ and ‘Good Ol’ Days’ – was a jubilant encore before Ego Nite listening parties took that sense of togetherness into the physical world. The whole thing was a lesson in how fearlessly fun an album release could be, if the right people are in charge.

It helps that ‘Ego Death At A Bachelorette Party’ is an incredible record. Opener ‘Ice In My OJ’ is an explosion of swaggering cool and blistering rage while the rumbling emo of ‘Glum’ is unapologetically bleak (“Do you ever feel so alone /That you could implode and no one would know”). The record confidently swings between optimistic grit (‘Love Me Different’), groovy heartache (‘Hard’), dreamy fresh starts (‘Showbiz’), and the snarling fury of ‘True Believer’, which dissects religion, racism, gentrification, and the creeping anxiety that has dominated 2025. It’s a much-needed purge.

Each track of the double album brings something new to tapestry of vulnerability and vigour. There are moments that will appeal to Paramore’s still-growing fanbase, but ‘Ego Death At A Bachelorette Party’ is a very different beast from ‘After Laughter’ or ‘This Is Why’. It’s a record that’s comfortable with all the expectations that surround it, but at no point does it bend to meet or defy them. It’s devilishly funny, painfully blunt and fizzes with excitement as Hayley plays to both her pop smarts and punk feels. Refusing to hold anything back, it’s ultimately an exercise in freedom. What could be more important or inspiring in 2025? AS