Not On Stage’s Favorite Songs Of 2025
Every year leaves behind a trail of moments that refuse to fade — late-night drives, quiet breakdowns, impulsive dance sessions in bedrooms, and that one song you played on repeat until it felt stitched into your personality. At Not on Stage, our staff favorites this year don’t follow one single mood. They drift between chaos and comfort, soft heartbreak and bold confidence, nostalgia and reinvention. Together, they tell the story of a year that felt loud, tender, confusing, and unforgettable.
“The Great Unknown” by Ice Nine Kills opened the year with intensity, capturing the thrill and dread of stepping into uncertainty with no guarantee of where you’ll land. It felt like fear wrapped in adrenaline. “The Fate Of Ophelia” followed with poetic tragedy — quiet, emotional, and devastating in the way only vulnerability can be. Then came “Summer In December,” a song that bent seasons into memory, glowing with warmth even when everything else felt cold.
“Everybody Knows” by Molly Santana arrived with confidence and unfiltered truth, sounding like a realization you’t been avoiding but finally had to face. “Potion” by Djo brought an intoxicating, almost restless energy that made even stillness feel electric. And “Back To Me” by The Marías pulled at longing with dreamy emotional gravity, like floating through memory and not wanting to wake up.
“Call Me Pretty” by Susannah Joffe offered a soft but piercing confrontation with self-image, insecurity, and the need to be seen honestly. “Manchild” by Sabrina Carpenter flipped frustration into something sharp, playful, and painfully relatable — humor as a survival instinct. “David’s Brother” slowed things down with intimate storytelling, the kind that lingers in your chest long after the final note fades.
Nostalgia hit hardest with both “Take Me Back” and “Relationships” from HAIM — one aching for the past, the other dissecting connection with brutal honesty. On the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, “Gnarly” by KATSEYE arrived bold, fearless, and unapologetically confident, a reminder that power can be loud and joyful. “Cross Your Mind” by Shelly lived in the quiet space between hesitation and hope, soft reflection wrapped in uncertainty.
“What Was That” by Lorde thrived in confusion and sudden self-realization, capturing the shock of recognizing yourself in a different light. “Berghain” closed the year in a blur of darkness and magnetism — pulsing with after-hours intensity, emotional weight, and the feeling of something fleeting but unforgettable.
Together, these songs didn’t just fill playlists — they marked emotional eras. They soundtracked growth, loss, confidence, confusion, desire, and reflection. They followed us through quiet mornings, chaotic nights, and everything in between. These weren’t just staff favorites. They were emotional timestamps, frozen in sound — proof of who we were while we were becoming someone new.
