The ultimate 2010s playlist

"Somebody said you got a new friend," starts Robyn on "Dancing on My Own," one of the greatest pop songs of the last 20 years. "Does she love you better than I can?" As the reigning queen of four-on-the-floor heartbreak, the stuttering production gets you moving even as Robyn has a total breakdown at the sight of her love interest out with someone else, with the chorus of "I'm in the corner / Watching you kiss her" followed by a pained "ooh" that tells you everything you need to know. Every lyric is precise and full of meaning ("Stilettos on broken bottles" is a hell of a line), and Robyn's vocal performance is powerful. In under five minutes, she's delivered more emotion than most Oscar-bait drama films — and unlike those stuffy features, you can at least dance to this.

Any song that opens with a lethargic "nah nah nah" is probably gonna do you good, and Ariel Pink's breakout hit, "Round and Round," absolutely fits that bill. After laboring in the land of lo-fi recordings for years, his "Before Today" album introduced him to a whole new audience through its outright adoption (and sometimes blatant ripping off) of AM radio tropes, nearly all of which appear on "Round and Round," with its hypnotic bass line and closing group vocals. It's a casual kind of hit — so casual that Pink even takes a phone call in the middle of it and no one seems to mind. Legendary.

While Miranda Lambert was initially known as the bad girl of contemporary country music, her biggest breakthrough ended up being the sparse, stately ballad "The House That Built Me," which in turn became her first-ever country radio chart-topper. Originally intended to be recorded by her then-husband Blake Shelton, this touching number is a reminder of your roots and where you came from, of knocking on the door to the house you were raised in and asking the current owners if you can look around, saying, you "won't take nothing but a memory." It still tugs on the heartstrings almost a decade later.

There are some people — fools, let's call them — who doubted whether or not Big Boi would be able to truly stand out on his own away from the moniker of his original group, OutKast. As it turns out, Big Boi has always been a rap superstar, and his debut solo effort, "Sir Lucious Left Foot: The Son of Chico Dusty," only confirmed that he is working on a whole different level. Lead single, "Shutterbugg," is a slamming, stunning club-ready banger that allowed Big Boi to show off his lyrical chops even though he really didn't need to come out of the gate this hard. Dripping with swag, Big Boi bodied the haters with this one song alone. Still not impressed? There's a whole album where that came from, and it's absolute fire.

"Dance Yrself Clean" was never released as a single from "This Is Happening," the third album from LCD Soundsystem, but it's still the most famous song from the critically acclaimed set and for good reason. It's a dynamic opener that was so effective, it even opened up the "farewell concert" at Madison Square Garden, as rudimentary cowbell percussion and simple vocal swells give way to a thundering explosion of drums that you can't help but groove along too. James Murphy's sadboy lyrics give way to a vocal fry caterwaul that is filled with passion, cementing LCD Soundsystem as an outfit that went out at the top of its game (and then, years later, came back just 'cos).

In the early 2010s, there was a bit of a rivalry between Lady Gaga and Katy Perry for the same slice of Top 40 radio, with Perry scoring a litany of chart-toppers for her bubbly, inescapable pop confections. Gaga, meanwhile, tended to write overambitious, self-referencing numbers that were too smart (or sometimes, too indulgent) for their own good. Many of those songs are still classics, but "The Edge of Glory" was still a breath of fresh air, as it was one of the cleanest, most straightforward pop numbers she had ever composed, hitting a feel-good sweet spot we didn't know she was capable of. The cherry on top, of course, is that sweet Clarence Clemons saxophone solo, which ended up being one of the last things he recorded before he passed away.

Although she was a queen of the mixtape circuit and her verse on Kanye West's 2010 song "Monster" instantly elevated her to legend status, it's clear that Young Money wasn't quite sure how to promote a fire-breathing rapper of Nicki Minaj's caliber. Although her 2010 solo singles all did serviceable business, nothing really broke through the pack (the label, at least, had the wisdom to not include her Sean Garrett collaboration "Massive Attack" on the album thank goodness). Instead, it was a bonus track on the Deluxe Edition of "Pink Friday" that soon caught everyone's ears, and once it got promoted as a single, soon everyone is spitting like they know what "you're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye" means (hint: it's Slick Rick). Rarely do bubblegum pop singles mix well with rapid-fire rap verses, but in Minaj's imperial period, anything was possible.

"Midnight City" consists of four chords. That's it: no surprises. Just four chords and a lot of synths that wouldn't sound too out of place on the "Drive" soundtrack. What elevates "Midnight City" to icon status, however, is how M83's mastermind, Anthony Gonzalez, manages to give the song a build-and-release flow that gives this easily digestible bit of dance-pop a cinematic sheen. From the deep-echo vocals shouting out that "this city is my church!" to the thundering drums, this song is so immediate and so catchy you almost forget that it doesn't even have a chorus. Well, it does, but the synths are doing all the talking.

Out of all her petty drama and negative antics that colored much of her career in the 2010s, it's sometimes surprising to think that there are any Azealia Banks fans left at all. It's a shame she squandered her goodwill because songs like "Licorice" and "Chasing Time" stand on their own if removed from her public persona. But at the end of the day, none of it would have been possible were it not for "212." One of the most aggressive, foul-mouthed and infinitely replayable pieces of braggadocious rap to come out of the new century, Banks raps from a position of power, not caring once what other people say about her as she runs lyrical circles around any and all perceived haters. It's aggressive, it's nasty and yes, it's still iconic.

There are few songs as sleek, effortless and undeniably sexy as Miguel's "Adorn." Riding a pulsing bass groove and slim electronic percussion, "Adorn" served as Miguel's entrance to the mainstream, soundtracking intimate bedroom moments a million times over. Written and produced entirely by himself, the level of craft to create a groove this smooth is the stuff of genius, and by the time he's doing his vocal runs during the third chorus, we're wrapped up in his passion. It's a neo-soul masterpiece that even Miguel has never bettered.

As effortless as it is effervescent, Jepsen's breakthrough single "Call Me Maybe" literally came out of nowhere to become one of the biggest songs of the year, and even reading this sentence right now, it probably got stuck in your head again, didn't it? Where you think you're goin', baby? Those string hits during the chorus is the element that pushes it over into pop song paradise, but it's Jepsen's bubbly personality that really sells the whole carefree vibe. While she never came close to matching this monster smash, she instead focused on her craft and has become a cult pop star, releasing critically fawned-over albums that showed how "Call Me Maybe" was just the sound of her getting warmed up.

Kendrick Lamar is undeniably the 2010s breakthrough rap star, and when picking a single song to represent him, there are almost too many options. Do you go with his legendary breakthrough ("Swimming Pools (Drank)")? His protest anthem ("Alright")? His instant-classic guest verse on "Control"? His chart-topper ("Humble")? His pop hit ("All the Stars")? It's a staggering selection, but at the end of the day, we can't help but be drawn into the loungey, smoke-rings-at-midnight vibe of "Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe", one of the best singles from his iconic debut. Self-reflective and self-reflexive at the same time, his introvert's lament about fame and his career was so palpable even Jay-Z had to jump on it — and even then, all he's doing is trying to keep up with King Kendrick.

The 2019 stripper-heist film "Hustlers" was anchored by a pitch-perfect cameo from Usher, who was riding high in the mid-late 2000s where the film was set. The 2010s have been less kind to him because while he still had hits, they weren't the radio-swallowing monsters they once were. So for his seventh album, "Looking 4 Myself," Usher wanted to move away from his will.i.am and R. Kelly collaborations to make something more serious; more lasting. Although his Diplo collaboration "Climax" wasn't a big hit, it is unmistakably the best song Usher has ever done. Over somber midtempo synthpads, Usher sings almost entirely falsetto as he realizes he's in a relationship that cannot be recovered, his building vocal swells creating a sense of urgency that is undeniably cathartic, his revelation absolutely heartbreaking. Reportedly taking over two months to record because Usher wanted to get it just right, we're gonna go ahead and say that he nailed it.

One of the stupidest songs to ever be released, Norwegian talk show duo Ylvis' accidental megahit was one of the first truly viral moments of the early YouTube era, as no one in the U.S. knew who these guys were or just how seriously to take them. As it turns out, Ylvis did a silly video as for actual hitmaking production team Stargate and, as a return favor, they produced a beat for the guys who often open seasons of their talk show with a high-quality music video of some sort. Love it or hate it, there is still no funnier line than "Fish go blub," and the absurdity of horses using Morse code and referring to foxes as guardian angels do nothing to distract us from the fact that on a fundamental musical level, this is a jam. Maybe it was a joke that went just a bit too far, but honestly, we can't think of any other track that represents our gloriously dumb viral decade better.

After netting a surprise win for Album of the Year at the 2011 Grammy Awards, a lot of people who weren't part of the indie-blog literati were wondering who the heck this Canadian band was and why they were so popular. As it turns out, they got their response a few years later when the band unleashed the seven-minute single "Reflektor" from the double-album of the same name. Taking a sharp and surprising turn into out-and-out disco-rock, "Reflektor" is overstuffed in the best way possible: paranoid choruses, propulsive horn sections, random David Bowie cameos, rising string sections — "Reflektor" overwhelms in the best way possible.

Matthew Houck's Phosphorescent has been putting out albums since 2003, but it wasn't until the release of his sixth album, "Muchacho," that the mainstream started to catch on, as "Song For Zula", the string-and-synth driven, almost country-styled ballad, resonated with listeners the world over. Lyrically riffing off of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" at times, Houck's six-minute emotional epic has a life and style all its own, which is why it shows up in soundtracks for everything from "The Vampire Diaries" to "The Amazing Spider-Man 2." We've poured over the lyrics and still don't quite know what it all means, but that hasn't stopped listeners from adapting his cryptic words to fit their own trials and travails.

It could be argued that Betty Who is the most under-the-radar diva of the new millennium, releasing catchy, radio-ready hits that somehow just keep getting ignored by the radio. It's a shame too, because from 2019's "I Remember" to 2017's "I Love You Always Forever" to 2013's "High Society", the Australian singer-songwriter should have already put out a greatest hits package after doing yet another national tour. As it stands, however, she's playing to an ever-growing cult audience, many of whom were introduced to her by the joyous, vital "Somebody Loves You", a feel-good smash if there ever was one. Instantly catchy, instantly memorable, and damn near essential, "Somebody Loves You" is the kind of dance-pop confection we didn't know we deserved.

Norwegian singer-songwriter Sondre Lerche got his start in the NPR and critics circles before realizing that as a songwriter, he could do just about anything, so decided that it'd be fun to switch styles from album to album. One second he's doing jazzy pop tunes, the next he's doing glitter-strewn rock numbers. It was all fine and good until his 2013 divorce from wife Mona Fastvold left him devastated and confused. Gathering himself up in the aftermath, he ended up making "Please," his best album, and it was all lead by the paranoid power of "Bad Law" the record's opening number and lead single. Over spry guitar lines and his everyman vocals, we're drawn into a simple, curious world before, out of nowhere, the volume kicks up and he hits us with a shocking noise squall — and then it's back to business. This chaotic, bipolar pop number is abrasive in all the right ways and shocked many of his fans for being so utterly surprising in its construction and so absolutely powerful in its execution.

Sia has been a celebrated singer-songwriter who's been in the public eye ever since she contributed vocals to the downtempo group Zero 7's "Destiny" all the way back in 2001. She flirted with her solo career while soon becoming an in-demand pop songwriter, rising to fame with a well-placed "Six Feet Under" finale sync. Yet once she pulled her wig down over her face to hide her identity — despite being in numerous promos and music videos before — that's when people started to notice her. With "Chandelier," Sia set her own personal tale of alcohol addiction to an operatic pop chorus, one which showcased the power of her voice and would be imitated in audition rooms for years to come. Brutal in its honesty and unwavering in its presentation, Sia discovered the power in her embracing her eccentricities, resulting in one of the most surprising and welcome second acts we've ever seen in a diva's career.

Based out of Cambridge, the dance/classical hybrid group known as Clean Bandit came out of nowhere with "Rather Be," a dynamic mix of light keyboard work and gorgeous violin interplay. It was an unusual kind of pop song that sounded unlike anything on radio at the time: bright and vibrant in a world full of party rock anthems and self-seriousness. Aided by Jess Glynne's smooth vocals (this song would also be a launchpad for her own solo career), Clean Bandit conquered the world with what would end up being their signature number, soon being covered by Pentatonix and winning the Grammy Award for Best Dance Recording. When we're listening to this song, even after it got saturated on the radio, there's still no place we'd rather be.

Kurt Vile is capable of many moods, sounds and emotions, but that's sort of what you'd expect from the former lead guitarist from The War on Drugs. While he had a critical breakthrough with his 2011 album "Smoke Ring for My Halo," it wasn't until his 2015 album "b'lieve I'm goin down..." that he finally gave the world a hit, and the rambling guitar stroll of "Pretty Pimpin" is a looping, hypnotic, existential kind of rock song that feels like several decades of guitar rock history have been crammed into one place. "I could be one thousand miles away / But still mean what I say," sings Vile, dryly, and we can't do anything but believe he's telling the truth. It might just be the best song Tom Petty never wrote.

Inexplicably not a mega-smash in the United States, the former runner-up of U.K.s "The X Factor" debuted out the gate with a sensational slice of dance-funk that hasn't lost any of its potency years later. From her wild vocals to those (of course) amazing sax runs, this playful pop number is the kind of effervescent feel-good jam you just don't catch on the radio anymore, meaning that the U.S. really missed out here, because it was an international hit everywhere else. Let's get it to the point where when you go up to a DJ and yell, "play that Sax!," this song is the next thing he'll play.

"Mend your own fences and own your own crazy," Kacey Musgraves warns us on "Biscuits," one of the most delightful singles of her near endless run of contemporary country classics. As the lead single to her third studio full-length, this playful song about staying out of other people's business because we all have dirty laundry was the kind of healing message we all needed to hear in these erratic times, all delivered with a nice helping of Southern Charm. It's so upbeat and disarmingly sweet you might not even consider how classically constructed this is because while it was designated as something for radio play, you can easily see her singing this as the Grand Ole Opry in a heartbeat.

When not crafting trademark smashes for other artists, uber-producer Mark Ronson occasionally indulges his solo flights of fancy, putting out a new solo album every four years or so. While his 2007 album "Version" featured a litany of cover songs done by well-matched artists, his 2015 record "Uptown Special" had a lot of original material — and a song by Bruno Mars called "Uptown Funk." Maybe you've heard of it? Copying Morris Day & The Time's winning pop-funk formula down to a T, Ronson and Mars created not just a chart-topper but also one of those rare mega-hits that consumes entire galaxies with its omnipresence. Expertly composed, packaged and delivered, this song is still too hot (hot damn).

One of the wildest art-rock songs to come out of England in the recent past, "Distant Past" was the third single from Manchester band Everything Everything's third album, and it is a guitar-rock acid trip. From "Star Trek" gadget sounds to a key-changing group vocal during the chorus, the comedic voices and wild guitar interplay of this unquestionable pop gem all help anchor singer Jonathan Higgs' madcap lyric runs, his abstract imagery flying by at remarkable speed ("Two thumbs, I cross the Rubicon / Slack-jawed, but you'll never be passing it on"). It may very well be the best rock confection you've never heard, but to our ears, it's one of the best numbers to come out of this young decade.

While "Coming Home" was the inaugural viral hit for young Atlanta soul revivalist Leon Bridges, it is his debut album's closing track, "River," that has become his most beloved. While the lyrics come off as straightforward, depicting someone looking for redemption through baptism, the secret to Bridges' masterpiece lies in its execution, where a sparse acoustic guitar, a light touch of reverb and those backing vocalists taking the chorus to church all add up to a cathartic, powerful moment of release and elation. While it's been used to soundtrack moments of redemption in media like the TV show "Big Little Lies," nothing can detract from your first time listening to this throwback wonder.

After Chance the Rapper's 2013 mixtape "Acid Rap" turned him into a superstar overnight, the allure of fame was actually a bit too much for Chancelor Bennett, so he grabbed what anonymity he could and worked closely with his frequent collaborator Nico Segal (formerly Donnie Trumpet) on a new project under the name of The Social Experiment. However, Chance could only disguise his charisma and talent so much, which is why when he finally showed up for a star turn on the lovely "Sunday Candy," he ended up breaking through the mainstream in a big way. Celebrating every warm memory people have of visiting their grandma's in church on a Sunday, this lovely number incorporates gospel textures, horn sections and even some Chicago footwork into the mix, making for a song so unabashedly corny it actually became cool.

As Solange tells it, exchanging demos with the great Raphael Saadiq led to her finding this great drums-and-string groove that Saadiq had created at one point and never used. She begged him for the stems but he never was able to find them, so she simply added on to what he had already created, adding in toy keyboards, piano scales and her lovely multi-tracked vocals to create an absolutely gorgeous piece of midtempo soul-pop that is as affecting as it is endlessly replayable. While her 2012 "True" EP showed Solange coming into her own as an artist, "Cranes in the Sky" let the world know that she had a distinct musical identity all her own, and in the years that followed, proved that her muse was going to take her wherever it damn well pleased.

"Picture this: / I'm a bag of dicks / Put me to your lips" — and so starts one of the greatest rap songs of the decade. While El-P and Killer Mike (who comprise Run the Jewels) can veer from pointed social commentary to humorous couplets at the drop of a dime, "Nobody Speak" feels like the duo is letting loose and having fun, the guys trying to outdo each other with ridiculous put-downs. This would all make for a great Run the Jewels song, but what really sells it is the incredible instrumentation provided by DJ Shadow, mixing acoustic guitars, horn sections and a slow and steady bass thump to give this self-aggrandizing masterclass in wordplay a bit of a nostalgic vibe that helps the listener know how un-serious the whole collaboration is. But seriously: In any other universe, this would be an absolute chart smash.

It's rare that you get a song that sounds like a slow-motion strobe light, but with the watery, weird and knowingly sexy "Needed Me," Rihanna stands up and looks down at the guys that needed her in their life and ignores them. The DJ Mustard production is slow, sensual and dramatic, serving as a perfect platform for Rihanna to dismiss her haters and hangers-ons with absolute style. "Didn't they tell you that I was a savage? / F**k your white horse and a carriage," she sneers, the production matching her every diss and overly complicated vocal run. While Rihanna put out a lot of legendary songs this decade, "Needed Me" may very well go down as her masterpiece, filled with pathos, passion and a hell of a lot of power.

Following the mixed reception to 2011's "The King of Limbs", Radiohead — a band not known for losing the critics very often — toured and then took a couple of years off while each member explored solo ventures. After a social media-wiping campaign, the boys finally came back with "Burn the Witch," the lead single from their heralded late-era record "A Moon Shaped Pool." Now that guitarist Johnny Greenwood had really grown into his own as a composer, he was more than ready to apply his skills on this new paranoid anthem, where sawing cellos, light electronic elements, and singer Thom Yorke's ever-paranoid lyrics and escalating vocal performance give way to make one hell of an instant-classic rock number. While often interpreted to be about xenophobia or fake news, the truth is that every time we listen to it, it still feels like a low-flying panic attack — exactly as how the band intended.

After Psy introduced the Western world to K-pop in a big, flamboyant way (and well before BTS and Blackpink made staggering international breakthroughs), there was Twice, the JYP girl group who had a dynamite knack for delivering dance-pop ear candy that lasted. While early songs like "Cheer Up" and later numbers like "Knock Knock" and "Likey" would become worldwide sensations, it was their 2016 masterpiece "TT" that we're still talking about today. Comprised of at least a half-dozen pop hooks that could all anchor their own individual chart-toppers, "TT" mixes everything in addictive fashion, giving each member a chance to shine before one hook leads to another which leads to another. In three-and-a-half minutes, it contains enough sonic sugar to last you for the rest of the year, and even now, it's still stuck in our heads. It's not the K-pop earworm to end all earworms — it's a permanent fixture in our music-loving brains.

What's great about late-period Beyoncé is that she's mastered a trick known only to elite pop stars: When you reach a certain level of fame, your specific experiences can read as universal lessons, which is why "Formation," the staggering, dramatic lead single from her generation-defining album, "Lemonade," could only be written by Queen Bey. From talking about her Southern heritage to dismissing conspiracy theorists to name-dropping brands, what should be indulgent autobiography instead comes out as a proud anthem, one that tells women that they too can slay; that they can get in formation and get information, depending on how you want to interpret it. Add in the New Orleans horns, Big Freedia ad-libs, and some of the best production work Mike WiLL Made-It has ever done, and you have an unimpeachable instant-classic.

People who make the argument that the antagonizing Russian band Pussy Riot is known more for its political activism thanits music clearly hasn't heard any of its  songs. What so many people forget in that argument is that Pussy Riot's art and activism are one and the same, which is why some songs lambaste the fallacies of Russian's oppressive state, while others may have accurately predicted the election of Donald Trump. Its singles have always been pointed, and on "Police State," the band uses American Top 40 pop tropes to paint a picture of a populace so happy to be indoctrinated by martial law. "Oh my god, I'm so happy I could die!" they sing, embodying a dictator's wet dream over waves of vocal hooks, only following this up with lines from a different perspective saying "Shut the borders / Burn the other / Sons and daughters / And the mothers / Drink the Kool-Aid / It's a new way / Do what I say." It's a chilling fever dream set to a beat you're not gonna get out of your head for days.

The steady ice-sleek guitar stylings of London's The xx made this group stand out in a decade where it always felt like being extra was always rewarded. While the band has always had its defenders, The xx surely was confused as to why its biggest song for the longest time was an instrumental track (the two-minute "Intro" from their 2009 debut). So how surprising it was to see producer Jamie xx — having now found success as a solo artist -- help bring his band back into the public consciousness with one of the wisest, warmest pop songs of the past several years. Sampling Hall & Oates "I Can't Go for That (No Can Do)" in a surprising fashion, the clean midtempo throb of "On Hold" paints a picture of two lovers (played by co-vocalists Oliver Sim and Romy Madley Croft) who thought they were each other's "backup" should romance not work out for them, only to be surprised when, in fact, they might not be. We're still swaying in clubs to this one.

We're friends, right? We can be honest with each other, right? Well now that we have established trust, let's carefully call it like it is: While Demi Lovato is an undeniably talented vocalist and performer, she had never really found her artistic voice. Oh sure, "Heart Attack" was a hit and "Cool for the Summer" was sweaty fun, but those songs could've been recorded by any diva. Yet when "Sorry Not Sorry" struck, Lovato had never sounded so effortless. The cool synth plings, the pounding piano pre-chorus, the clap-back snare hits — it all set up Lovato's vocal fireworks display perfectly, and she knocked it out of the park on this stunning pop monster. "You're f***in' with a savage," she warns us — and she's not kidding.

We don't have the sales figures, but we're going to hedge our bets and say that sales of red bottom shoes shot up after the release of "Bodak Yellow," one of the biggest and boldest major-label debut singles in the past 20 years. No, we're not exaggerating, because Cardi B came out of nowhere to become a rap star that rivaled (and arguably even eclipsed) Nicki Minaj at a near breakneck speed. What makes "Bodak Yellow" work so well isn't so much clever wordplay as much as the authentic, believable attitude she infuses with the track. It's the sound of someone takings what's theirs and not caring about what anybody thinks because at this point in her career, she don't gotta dance: She makes money moves.

Much like Carly Rae Jepsen, Tove Lo's time as a charting artist may have come and gone already following the one-two punch of "Habits (Stay High)" and "Talking Body," but she's increasingly making dynamic, compelling new dance songs for an ever-devout fan base, even dropping a handful short films that sew all her recent songs together. Yet even with that, there is no justice for how overlooked the risqué, sex-positive banger "Disco T**s" is. From its wildly provocative chorus ("I'm sweat from head to toe / I'm wet through all my clothes / I'm fully charged / Nipples are hard / Ready to go") to its outlandishly explicit music video, none of it would work were it not for the tight mirrorball beat and Tove Lo's breathy performance, all of it making for a jam that's so dirty it just feels right.

Although she had a band and an acting career and a superstar romance to her name, Selena Gomez was never taken seriously — at least until 2015's "Revival," an album of surprising restraint where sparse productions gave way to potent, occasionally provocative songs. She would spend the following years dropping potential lead singles from time to time to test the market waters, but hands down the best of them all was "Bad Liar." Snagging the bass line to the Talking Heads' debut single "Psycho Killer" and converting it into a slinky, sly little pop jam, "Bad Liar", with its lines both awkward and endearing ("Just like the battle of Troy / There's nothing subtle here"), is the kind song that doesn't fit in any particular space: It's too weird for Top 40 and too pop for the indie kids, which only leaves it as the best song Gomez has ever been associated with and one of the decade's most surprising comebacks.

When Kesha was making headlines over the alleged abuse suffered at the hands of former producer Dr. Luke, it was clear that she was in a miserable place, which is why when we finally got her first new music in years, it was in the form of the serious, forgiving "Praying." Many thought the album that followed would be in the same vein, but Kesha, ever the chameleon, instead gave us "Rainbow": an album that bursts with heartache, humor and a near limitless fascination with genre. Best of all was the second single "Woman," a funk and clever empowerment jam — so beautifully powered by The Dap-King Horns — where she declares that "I'm a motherf***in' woman!" at the top of her lungs and, just like that, a new anthem is born.

At a staggering 12 minute runtime, "Canary Yellow" is an intimidating listen, much less as the second single from the third album by black metal titans Deafheaven. Yet anyone familiar with the San Francisco rockers knows that no single song is ever going to remain the same all the way through, and "Canary Yellow" is no exception. Though George Clarke scream-sings his way through lines about choking on his lover's blood and the language of flowers, the band tilts the song through alt-rock melody lines, chanted (non-screamed) vocals and a thundering midsection that captures the feel of hearing someone in the next dorm room over blasting a metal record as loud as they can. It's a very specific experience, but if Deafheaven is known for anything, it's blistering dynamics.

Troye Sivan has come a long, long way since playing young Wolverine on the big screen, but his journey from YouTube sensation to pop star has been thrilling, and with the release of 2018's "Bloom," he gave an album that beautifully articulated the gay experience without having to hide his meanings behind cryptic (or even obvious) metaphors. All of this was started by the breathless, romantic club track and lead single that is "My! My! My!" A simple bass line, that shouted chorus, those lines as seductive as they are revealing ("Spark up / Buzzcut / I got my tongue between your teeth"), and suddenly Sivan didn't just have a pop song on his hands: He had created a genuine cultural moment.

We're removed from it a bit now, but on Election Night 2016, a lot of people suddenly felt afraid about the future of their country and their own place in it. It's a feeling that was dramatized on everything from "Saturday Night Live" to "American Horror Story" and approached in a handful of songs. But Brandi Carlile didn't want to focus so much on the emptiness and horror of the event as much as uniting those who all felt that way. "I saw your eyes behind your hair / And you're looking tired / But you don't look scared," Carlile tells before the warm Dave Cobb production takes over and this pop-Americana number takes off on the strength of her impassioned vocal performance. "I have been to the movies / I've seen how it ends," she soars, before closing it perfectly: "And the joke's on them."

As if his work on Rihanna's "Needed Me" wasn't enough, Mustard closed out this new decade by using his considerable skills to help introduce young singer-songwriter Ella Mai Howell to the world. Over a beat that's drenched in synths and drum machines straight out of '90s R&B radio, "Boo'd Up" sounds like an early Mary J. Blige number but filtered through a fresh new talent — one where the lyrics aren't particularly deep but the feeling of trying to find someone that gives the same rush as your ex is intensely, powerfully relatable. "Boo'd Up" works because it's just so effortless in its execution — a breezy jam in an era where everyone's going for radio maximalism.

There have been suite-styled rap songs before, but none of 'em became chart-topping monsters the way Travis Scott's "Sicko Mode" did. Seguing between three distinct passages and never repeating them, "Sicko Mode" is the work of at least five producers and over 20 credited songwriters (even if some of those credits come from samples), but somehow it all bleeds together to create an overstuffed, surprisingly unified whole. From Scott's disaffected flow to Swae Lee's wild ad-libs to its absolutely wild Dave Meyers-helmed video, "Sicko Mode" is such a dominating song that on the Billboard charts, Drake wasn't even credited as a feature, proving that even though he had a lineage of great albums behind him, Scott had just entered the hip-hop A-list and isn't going to leave anytime soon.

A former contestant on the U.K. "X Factor", the blue-eyed soul-pop stylings of Spencer Sutherland were intriguing but perhaps not fully formed following this TV debut. Instead of covers or by-the-numbers pop songs, Sutherland retreated into himself and focused on the craft of songwriting, scoring a "viral-lite" hit with the fun and fluffy "Sweater." Yet it's the choir in "NONE of this has been about you" that elevates the song from a lament directed at a former paramour into something approaching pop greatness. The choir gives it a light, a levity, and a gravity that no other production trick could pull — and then you find out that the choir is just Sutherland and his buddy, looping their voices and multi-tracking themselves until they sound like the real thing. It's a remarkably creative move that makes us wonder what Sutherland will do for his full-length, having already mastered the pop single.

The controversy was simple, at first. It was a rap song with goofy country lyrics based off a Nine Inch Nails sample. It was charting on the country and rap charts simultaneously. Then Billboard disqualified it for not being country enough. Then Billy Ray Cyrus stepped in and lent his voice to a remix. Then it started climbing the charts. Then it went No. 1. Then came the Young Thug and Mason Ramsey remix. Then came debut EP. Then came the Rap Monster remix. Then came the platinum certifications. Then came the record-breaking 19 weeks at the top of the Hot 100, making it the most successful song of all time. Then came the RIAA Diamond certification. Then came "Panini." Then came this list. Then came you playing it just...one more time.

As diverse and genre-less our listening habits are in the 2010s, there are still signs of sexism everywhere we look, and for country radio, there is an inherent bias against women. Country radio is dominated by men to an embarrassing percentage, and women are speaking up about it. Kacey Musgraves has become a star on her own terms, and Maren Morris used the critical clout from her playful debut record  (and her commercial visibility following that dreadful Zedd collaboration) to make something new and different, and her single "GIRL" is both an empowerment anthem and a stance against the sexism in her genre. "I don't wanna wear your crown, there's enough to go around," she intones, and on thus churning electric guitar number, we're right there with her.

Released as a single a month before 21 Savage's shocking arrest by ICE for an overstayed visa, 21 Savage's "a lot" is such a casual, effortless masterpiece that it's hard to believe how much wisdom and drama he was able to package in the span of five minutes. With a steady, mannered flow, Savage tackles everything from the Flint water crisis to how incarcerated family members only provoke younger family members to more street activity, painting a broad picture in stark, sometimes brutal tones. Assisted by one of J. Cole's most reflective and dynamic verses ever, the smooth East of Underground sample anchors everything in a down-to-earth realism, eschewing boom-bap histrionics in favor of something far more effective.

It's no surprise that the music video for experimental-soul artist FKA Twigs' breathless wonder of a single "Cellophane" is directed by Andrew Thomas Huang, a frequent Björk collaborator. As FKA Twigs works a stripper pole with daring athleticism, she is visited by a mythical creature and is then plunged directly into a red clay underworld. It's a striking visual that only works because it's anchored by Twigs' most beautiful tortured vocal performance to date. The pained refrain of "Why don't I do it for you?" is a pointed line, only highlighting how fragile, striking and perfect this new era of FKA Twigs will be.