@Harris Samuel

Whether it’s a weekday morning or Saturday night, get going with this personalised mix of upbeat music. Refreshed every Monday.

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Discover new music from artists we think you'll like. Refreshed every Friday.

“I like to think I’ve never really had much of an idea what I’m doing,” Kevin Parker told Apple Music’s Zane Lowe in 2020. “That’s part of the essence of it: not really knowing what you’re doing.” You can hear that refreshing naïveté—and an outsider’s knack for left-field choices—in everything that the Australian wunderkind has released as Tame Impala. Observe how the groggy phaser effect and retro psych crunch of early gems like 2010’s “Solitude Is Bliss” give way to the warped sheen and crumbling drums of 2012’s “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards”, as if Tame Impala is a private sandpit in which Parker can build elaborate castles and then dash them when it’s time for something new. After graduating to the mainstream with his 2015 opus <i>Currents</i>—and scoring a proper global hit with the falsetto synth-funk of “The Less I Know the Better”—Parker managed to make <i>Thriller</i>-esque flourishes feel intimate and personal on 2019’s “Borderline”. And after years of absorbing the circular mechanics of dance music, he framed his 2025 single “End of Summer” as an affectionate tribute to house, from its beat-forward groove and extended runtime to its white-label artwork.

Your favourite tracks of the year—all in one playlist, updated weekly.

As hard as it is to believe now, Radiohead’s “Creep” didn’t hit until nearly a year after its 1992 release, eventually recasting the Oxford ensemble as inheritors to the kind of alternative anthem championed by U2. The worldwide success of this disarmingly intimate ode to alienation would have proven a fluke if the band hadn’t repeated the trick with 1995’s “Fake Plastic Trees”, a strummed then string-swept daydream through eerily glossy surfaces both human and otherwise. Even then, few could have predicted the dystopian scope and artistic ambition of 1997’s <i>OK Computer</i>, which later made it onto Apple Music’s 100 Best Albums list. Heralded by the gorgeous yet outright ominous “Paranoid Android” and still another generational lost-soul ballad in “Karma Police”, that record announced Radiohead as The Beatles of their era, in terms of balancing both commercial and critical success with emboldened experimentation. Free to transform at will from song to song, the band began a new era with 2000’s <i>Kid A</i>, releasing no singles and embracing abstract electronics on opener “Everything in Its Right Place” and “Idioteque”. If their next few albums seemed to shrug off commercial concerns entirely, they still yielded such indelible turns as 2001’s stumbling piano amble “Pyramid Song”, 2003’s quiet-turned-loud “There, There”, 2009’s anti-gravity phantom “All I Need”, 2011’s squelching “Lotus Flower” and 2016’s urgent “Burn the Witch”. All explored anew while deepening the alchemy between unmoored singer/lyricist Thom Yorke, shape-shifting guitarist Jonny Greenwood and the other players. No wonder Radiohead still remain the high-water mark for bands who can do exactly what they want and still enjoy a decades-spanning audience.