Song of the Summer 2024 Predictions: Sabrina Carpenter, Post Malone – MASHAHER

If a genetic engineer — or a version of AI way better than the ones we’ve got now — could conjure a song of the summer, there’s a good chance it would sound a lot like “That’s that me, Espresso”: frothy, effervescent, instantly identifiable and catchy as poison oak. It even opens with a tinny-sounding intro, as if it were already coming out of a tiny speaker, but make no mistake, this is a very sophisticated pop song: It’s like an espresso shot of lyric memes, from summer imagery like “My ‘give a fucks’ are on vacation” and “Honey bee, come and get this pollen” to newly created verbs like “I dream-came-true’d it/ Mountain Dew’ed it/ brand-new’ed it for ya.” Julian Bunetta’s production contributes to the radio/phone-ready vibe as well, with the instruments blended together like an old mono recording, creating a big, fizzy sound that’s designed to burst out of little speakers. And unusually, after that brief instrumental intro, the song starts with the chorus, which isn’t unprecedented — “Dancing Queen” comes to mind — but is rare, and shows the willingness of songwriters Carpenter, Bunetta, Amy Allen and Steph Jones to break with convention, even for such a money song. —Aswad

Amid the months-long back-and-forth between Drake and Kendrick Lamar emerged only one certified hit. The latter’s “Not Like Us,” produced by Mustard, was subversive in the parade of often self-serious diss tracks more concerned with landing effective blows than providing broad commercial appeal. It’s why “Not Like Us” stood out from the rest: After dropping the scathing “Meet the Grahams” and “Euphoria,” Lamar cleverly set his sights on both his lyrical foe and the club, couching sinister accusations of pedophilia and colonization among some of the hookiest chants in his discography. If success is the sweetest revenge, then Lamar pulled out ahead in the war of words’ final tally. —Steven J. Horowitz

It’s a rare song that can sound so happy about a human-made mess, but the blame-based, it’s-not-all-my-fault lyrics of “I Had Some Help” don’t completely become clear until you sing along with its joyous melody. The song starts gently with some plucked chords, the verses piling up syllables and resolving with a strategic pause at the end of each stanza. But it gains velocity fast, adding a harmony vocal and more instruments before it burst open on the fiery chorus: “It ain’t like I can make this kinda mess all by myself / Don’t act like you ain’t help me pull that bottle off the shelf / I had some help!” It’s a song about getting in trouble — a theme for any summer — but also about somehow forgiving one’s accomplice. —Aswad

At last, a song based on an interpolation of an old hit that’s better than the tune it’s interpolating. No offense to J-Kwon’s 20-year-old “Tipsy,” a hip-hop hit that rests affectionately in the memories of a lot of listeners who were just the right age to be hit by it back in the day. Shaboozey’s modern smash takes the key line from the oldie and builds an actual melody around it — but more than that, it builds the promise of ratcheting up a whole new generation of genre-jumping. “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” is a country song, by classification, although it feels just malleable enough in style to belong to whatever genre you think it should belong to. Lyrically it’s certainly right in the pocket for country’s contemporary focus on alcohol as a purely positive force in its fans’ lives, so no wonder “A Bar Song” is actually picking up airplay at country stations that haven’t always seemed amenable to performers with Shaboozey’s, erm, hairstyle. (There’s also a sly reference to the bi-racial history of Jack Daniel’s, although that’s more of a provocative Easter egg for the attentive.) There had to have been some real mindfulness, of course, that went into making a tune that celebrates mindlessness this effectively. As modern-day country drinking songs go, you could even say it raises the bar. —Chris WIllman

It’s rare when a new release from a relatively unknown artist explodes with such ferocity as Tommy Richman’s “Million Dollar Baby,” but Richman – a promising singer-songwriter from Virginia – has played his cards right: over six years of seeding singles, a co-sign from R&B maven Brent Faiyaz and the perfect social media storm has made the song an obvious contender for song of the summer. Released April 25, “Million Dollar Baby’s” unmistakable hook and tuneful bassline is inescapable on TikTok. The song is written entirely by Richman, and was produced by a team of young hip-hop producers (many of them, like Richman, signed to Faiyaz’s ISO label) including Max Vossberg, Jonah Roy, Mannyvelli, Sparkheem and Kavi. —Thania Garcia

One thing Billie Eilish has in common with her current chart rival Taylor Swift is that both their albums have so many outstanding songs, it’s seemed hard to imagine that one would stand out as the song of the season. In Eilish’s case, with an album that wasn’t preceded by any singles, three songs quickly stood out as frontline contenders. “Lunch” was the immediate banger, with a Finneas bass line that wouldn’t quit and some sexualized imagery that couldn’t have been grabbier. But that flame burned so big so quickly that fans quickly began looking at follow-ups, with “Chihiro” and “Birds of a Feather” emerging in front. “Birds” seems like the cut that’s getting the biggest organic fan boost heading into June, and, counterintuitively, it may be because it’s the song on Eilish’s album that is least identifiable as her The groove is tending toward light R&B, and the sentiment toward pure love — neither one of those things Billie’s most obvious hallmark. Now, there’s a recurring morbidity to the lyrics that is sweetly Eilish-ian, in its fashion. (She sure does think a lot about being dead when she things of utter devotion.) But even given that slightly dark edge, “Birds of a Feather” really comes off as just a blast of pure sunshine — suitable for summing up how you feel about your significant other, your family, your besties ir anyone else you can’t live without. For the length of just this song, at least, she’s the Queen of Serotonin. —Willman

No one could have predicted that the sky-scraping anthem “Beautiful Things” would be Benson Boone’s ticket to stardom. Released in January, the sweeping ballad, co-written with Jack LaFrantz and Evan Blair (the latter of whom produced it), has only continued to blossom on the back of TikTok virality, crossing over to become a streaming titan. While it doesn’t necessarily scream “song of summer” (scream being the operative word to describe the force behind the chorus), “Beautiful Things” fills a niche for songs that tap into the angst of adolescent abandon. While it may not soundtrack a relaxing beach day, it certainly has power for those nights where you’re driving aimlessly with the windows rolled down. —Horowitz

Sexyy Red has an undeniable knack for cranking out sticky bangers, one after the other, and “Get It Sexyy” is no exception. Co-produced by frequent collaborator Tay Keith and Jake Fridkis, the rapper plays her own hype woman in typical Sexyy form, flaunting her assets both material and physical: “Slim thick, caramel skin / 5’5″, this bitch a ten / Hair done, bills paid / Catch me slidin’ in a Benz,” she chants in her signature wobbly cadence. Summer anthems can often be about feeling yourself and making it known to the world, and Sexyy is nothing if not a spokesperson for projecting self-confidence. —Horowitz

If you’ve been to any early summer block parties in Latin communities, you likely already know “Bellakeo” (loosely translated to mean “Flirting”) is a staple on the playlist. The song employs a common “song of summer” trope – a rhythmical and nonsensical chorus line that is practically impossible to forget once you’ve heard it (“Toa’ la noche Bellaque-que-que-que-queo”), and lyrics about sweaty perreo (dancing), shots of tequila and hooking up. While the composition of the song is simplistic, making use of reggaeton beat breaks with added synths, “Bellakeo” has managed to connect on a global level with fans, even sparking a dance trend on TikTok. —Garcia

The rise of Missouri-born Kayleigh Rose Amstutz has been unusual enough on its own — a failed record deal, a regrouping, and a remarkably passionate fan base that has built at a unusually gradual pace for for the TikTok age. And this song, a synth-filled, orch-pop stand-alone single that followed her debut album, “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess,” seems unlikely to be her most popular track by far, considering her other anthemic songs — but it is. With a bouncy but low-key vocal on the verses, the song — written by Chappell with top hitmaker Justin Tranter and her (and Olivia Rodrigo’s) longtime collaborator Daniel Nigro — explodes like a supernova on the ecstatic choruses as her voice leaps up two octaves into a karaoke-killing falsetto, even though it’s about a “sexually explicit kind of love affair” with someone who probably doesn’t love you. It’s an unusual, compact and clever pop song that slows down to a dragging, dead stop on the closing chorus: “You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling” (get it?). Her most innovative song to date, hopefully there are many more like this in store from this slow-building but vastly talented artist.  —Aswad

This one is being added as an outlier/addendum… because can a song that’s about a funeral, as Bryan’s “Pink Skies” is, really be a serious candidate for Song of the Summer? Not by the standards of our introductory remarks, which emphasize that breeziness is part of the deal. And yet… and yet… Even if it has an elder family member’s memorial service as the lyrics’ triggering event, the song really does count as a “celebration of life,” with its focus on the generations left behind having happy memories of what they picked up from the dearly departed on their way to a “beautiful” service. (And even the deceased person gets a happy ending in Bryan’s telling: “I bet God heard you coming.”) In the end, “Pink Skies” — which currently sits right amid these frothier songs in the top 10 — feels just upbeat enough to qualify, after all. It’s the feel-good/feel-grievous hit of the summer. —Willman