This year’s best songs arrived from chronically underrated hip-hop talents, seasoned indie rockers and newcomers painting a future for the Malaysian indie scene that’s far too vibrant to ignore. Listen to our picks for the 50 best songs of 2025 on Apple Music now.
50. “MDAUDKILAU.” – TT13
On their first album as a reformed group, TT13 takes iconic songstress M. Daud Kilau and his iconic hit “Cik Mek Molek” and turns it into a springboard for a track about — what else — being the best at the game. The real star of “MDAUDKILAU.” isn’t the clever pop-legend reference, though; it’s Kloud$’ breathy swagger, a presence that feels like he’s attacking from behind while claiming the throne. It’s scathing, a little spooky and impossible not to respect.
49. “Wishbone” – silent era.
Released on Valentine’s Day, the ghostly post-punk debut from silent era. feels more at home on Halloween. Haunting from start to finish, a moody narrator warns of the consequences of getting too close, without ever sacrificing the track’s catchy hooks or coming-of-age storytelling: “Dear youth, let me burn my young flesh / I’ll join the almost dead / Dear youth, let me break my white bones / I’ll make my own bed.” Brooding, intense and deliciously inspired by ’70s new wave, it hammers home a tone of melancholy we’ve all felt before.
48. “Jujur Sejujurnya” – Orang Malaya
Emerging as a rapper in 2014, Orang Malaya — real name Arief Othman — has carved out a name as an artist unafraid of sonic experimentation, even when working entirely from his bedroom. On “Jujur Sejujurnya” taken from his latest album, he draws from ’90s Malay R&B, shaping a track anchored in radical honesty. It unfolds as a slow burn, echoing the glory days of R&B group Innuendo — minus the gloss, replaced instead by sparse strums and jagged, inward-looking reflection.
47. “sepi” – Cerikapak
On “sepi”, self-taught music producer Cerikapak captures the minimalistic ambience of a quiet city. Electronic chirps mimic grasshoppers, gentle synths float like fireflies and drums take their time with no urgency, eventually settling into a hypnotic dance groove. It’s dreamy yet infectious, the kind of track that makes you want to move even if it’s just alone in a dimly lit bedroom.
46. “La Tahzan, La Senza, Entah La Nak” – The Fridays
In their second single of the year, indie pop unsung hero The Fridays takes jabs at men in the scene who think they’re too cool for anyone that you can barely take them seriously. It’s packed with gossip as lyricism, lo-fi production, attitudes we’ve seen too often at a crowded gig, standing next to a man who wouldn’t stop boasting about his mediocre achievements. You can hardly hear him over the noise but he is still letting you know how cool he is. What you can do is observe his flaws, laid bare in every gesture. “Vans ni fake / Dia tulis ‘On The Way’ / Start sembang / ‘Abang lama dalam industri’,” mocks Acap. We’ve all known one but not all of us could turn that irritation into a pop tune with hooks this gripping, the way The Fridays have.
45. “Cita Cita Asmara” – Ramayan
In their new album Ini Adalah Ujian Transimisi, neo-psychedelic band Ramayan explores the nostalgia of broadcast television most of us grew up with: the fuzzy hum of the screen to the touch, glossy and overdramatic graphics, communal when watched together and strangely fragmented when experienced alone. On “Cita-Cita Asmara” especially, the narrator takes the role of a playboy lifted straight from the screen, and the song unfolds as a parasocial fantasy. Over a funky bassline and a dancefloor-ready chorus, he lures you deeper into the television with try-hard charm: “Kau simpanlah nombor ini / Dan semoga kita bertemu lagi / 0172 dan bla, bla, bla,” he winks. He isn’t real, obviously. But for now, you’re too swooned, too glued to the screen, to remember that.
44. “FRANKENSTEIN” – kidsteph
Kidsteph, the newest member of hip hop collective MidLyfe, is one of the underground scene’s brightest young stars, rapping about haters and shaken fans in the face of Frankenstein-level success (although he actually joined the collective in May). That perception isn’t entirely hype — a glance at his TikTok shows how unprepared the Malaysian music audience is for auto-tuned, cocky young rappers calling out haters by name. On “FRANKENSTEIN”, kidsteph deploys rough, throaty rap vocals with an almost cartoonish flair: “Aku tak hangout sebab ramai yang pretend / Kaki sembang acah berani kat internet,” he spits. It’s petty, sure, but also so delirious and energetic.
43. “Berdosa” – Targun
Calling out religious hypocrisy is a familiar move for politically minded bands, but Lumut-based stoner rockers Targun make it hella head-bopping and chaotic. Over five minutes, explosive drums and funky rhythms charge through the track, running amok with relentless energy. “Benci membenci / Bagai syurga dah dijanji / Muliakan diri,” lifts lines straight from TikTok arguments, yet lands far too close to reality. It’s a never-ending battle with that kind of crowd — hell, they’re even running the country — but at least Targun gives us a furious, exhilarating soundtrack to watch it all unfold.
42. “Aftermath” – Islands
Islands remains the defining name of 2010s dream pop/shoegaze, and it’s fascinating to watch their evolution. They aren’t rattled by the recent wave of hardcore-leaning shoegaze; what they are is what you’d expect from their early days, only sharper, fuller and more confident. “Aftermath” proves it. With new members and more lived experiences packed in, the track delivers a fun, breezy dream pop tune without losing the sugary melancholy that lingered in 2010s dream pop sonics you used to get recommended on your YouTube homepage. The ad-libbed “ha hu ha” in the intro injects sunny energy, but the rest of the song is classic Islands: anxiety-riddled introspective and quietly triumphant.
41. “I Lost My Kim” – LIKEDODGEBALL
“I Lost My Kim” by Seremban-based Midwest emo band LIKEDODGEBALL offers a glimpse into a couple whose flashbacks shift into the painful realisation that one of them has made a mistake. It’s cut with lifelong guilt and regret; the kind that hits when you understand someone else has been holding back their life to make space for yours. It’s brutally honest in its failure: “Wearing a flower shirt / Cigarette burns / Gaining weight / I’m obese / I should give up trying to forget you.” Coupled with classic arpeggiated riffs and woven with a snippet from Better Call Saul where Kim breaks up with Jimmy, it hones in on emotions it knows too well and refuses to soften.
40. “Dogma” – Open Privacy
Open Privacy bursts onto the scene with the weighty allure of ’70s post-punk and goth draped around them like jewelry. On “Dogma” that aesthetic isn’t just embraced but embodied so impressively. With moody, shadowed vocals drift over songs steeped in haunting and being haunted, they’ve managed to create a soundscape that feels formidable and commanding in all the right ways.
39. “Situation” – Cleo Megido
Taken from her debut EP Asha, Cleo Megido confesses the part we rarely admit out loud: we all want that situationship purely for the thrill. In this electronic pop with sonics that speed like a reckless night-drive bathed in blue light, Cleo examines a fleeting romance and revels in the chase. “Seems like I got in a situation with / This outrageous boy / Can we sift through the noise?” she asks, wondering if he’s in it for the fun too. There’s no affirmation here. Only a sensual subtlety that plays out in her head, perhaps blown out of proportion. But who cares where it ends? It’s the momentary thrill that matters.
38. “Tragedian” – Su San
In the grand scheme of self-destruction, honesty about the impending doom is almost a requirement. Su San arrived last year with moody, dark pop steeped in early Lana Del Rey and the ethereal intensity of FKA twigs’ LP1. She studies those lineages closely, especially on “Tragedian” where its narrator rejects any form of rescue from the depression closing in on her: “My sanity is breaking / ’Cos I am in love / With my melancholy.” It’s a song that feels as violent as watching a house burn to the ground. Powerless, haunting, able only to witness the collapse.
37. “1000 Hurts Forever” – EHU
EHU’s — formerly Elmu Hisab — “1000 Hurts Forever” seems simple on the surface: a 10-minute post-hardcore stretch of haunting loops, like a nightmare you can’t escape. But the track presents itself like a figurative stab to the chest: “Everything hurts!” Words blur into unintelligibility, but dense, eerie guitar riffs pulse like a beating heart. The repetition is dizzying, unnerving and as the pain lingers with no clear resolution, you’re left suspended in its airy weight.
36. “Sky” – August Fear ft. fwdayn
If you take a closer look at the iceberg tiers meme of local underground hip hop, you’ll notice beneath the surface a swarm of bored kids producing supertrap tracks that feel haywired and chronically underappreciated. Among them is August Fear, who’s been consistently dropping full-length projects since 2022. His music rarely takes itself seriously — if anything, it sounds like it was born from pure boredom in KL — but his production never fails to go berserk, fusing trap with glitch, explosive drums, dark ambient textures, and more. “Sky” is a testament to that skill: the track is horny and nonsensical at best, yet utterly compelling. It’s alien, overflowing with nonsense and somehow, you just can’t stop listening. How strange.
35. “RUSSKI” – Lil Asian Thiccie, dj magn3sium
After a memorable dip into hyperpop, Lil Asian Thiccie strips the electronic dance genre back to its bare weirdness and pivots toward the hard-hitting, flirtatious club music. Teaming up with dj magn3sium — formerly known as bedroom R&B pop singer Alextbh — the pair deliver an EP packed with Eurodance pop impulses. Twirling her hair and leaning into the bit, Lil Asian Thiccie sings about falling for a Russian man, tossing off lines like “Your ushanka matches my bikini top / He said me he loves me and I told him spasiba.” The references are oddly specific and goofy, but that’s part of the charm: anyone who’s ever tried to impress a foreign lover knows a word or two is often enough. Even with the language barriers, the carefree desire still tastes sweet and dangerous.
34. “THE SUN IN YOUR MOUTH” – fictions
“THE SUN IN YOUR MOUTH” by Kuala Lumpur-based band fictions lunges straight into you in a violent rush, like that moment in a horror film when a character is trapped in fast-flickering lights — hauntings everywhere, evil closing in, anguish imminent, no time to breathe. Then the post-punk track reins itself in, slipping into a brief, disorienting slowdown: “Hum into my ear in your dead sleep / I’ll be hearing your voice in my transit,” the vocalist whispers. The tempo stays uneven, screams in the background curdle the anxiety, horns and riffs blasting over one another. The torturous ending drags itself out, it comes from knowing you’re leaving something good behind.
Listen: Bandcamp
33. “Wanchu” – Herbal Candy
Towards the end of 2022, R&B-pop duo Herbal Candy announced they were stepping back from music, saying they had “reached the ceiling.” That exit didn’t last long: three years later, they returned with the single “Wanchu.” The track holds hands between ethereal dream-pop textures and romantic R&B sensibilities. It’s perfect for serenading an anxious lover and also a triumphant statement that cements their much-awaited comeback.
32. “babyfucker” – Glistening Redchair
Alt-metal soloist Glistening Redchair returns after three years with new music. “babyfucker” opens slow and haunting, before crashing into sludge guitars and abrasive vocals, unfolding like a true-crime narrative. The lyrics read like a confession from a disturbed mind: the narrator meticulously hides objects (or victims) and “put one in the box, wrapped it tightly, stacked a few more.” Later he invites the listeners to observe the room, cluttered yet his love for them all the same. The track closes with both a confession and a lie: “Call me reckless / but I don’t fuck my babies.” With a discography rooted in the aftermath of real-life trauma — their debut album documented the repercussions of child sexual abuse — Glistening Redchair continues to navigate a twisted, dangerous narrative with storytelling chops that unsettle and galvanize.
Listen: Bandcamp
31. “Jetski Song” – Milo Christ
Too often, potential-filled bands here fall apart after one project, because the reality is creativity doesn’t put food on the table. Milo Christ, three guys who grew up in Malaysia, started a band here and are now living in different countries pursuing serious paths, are no exception. Their debut — and perhaps only — EP Milo Christ Goes On Tour 2027 offers midwest emo that feels specifically like hanging out with your friends on a rooftop in the dead of night, on the last days you can be together. In “Jetski Song”, they squeeze out nostalgia and tenderness through repeated imagery of beachcombing, shell-gifting and shared jokes, emphasising the small but meaningful rituals between friends. At the same time, the narrator grapples with vulnerability — “I would take off my mask if it made you laugh” — and the bittersweet reality of growing apart or feeling tension. Growing up is inevitable, but do we have to grow apart too?
30. “BANNED IN KL” – killamisha
2025 gave us the unexpected: a Killamisha comeback. After a year-long hiatus, a police remand and a reputation arguably tarnished by hypocrisy within the scene, she returned with a two-track mixtape. She also released a statement that carried more heartbreak than rage. “Sekali tergelincir, seumur hidup dipandang rendah. Di tanah ini sebagai seorang wanita, hormat bukan hak, tapi keistimewaan yang boleh dirampas bila-bila,” she wrote, recalling a sense of betrayal by a supposedly “alternative” and “independent” music community.
On “BANNED IN KL” produced by DJ Waste, that hurt combusts into sharp introspection — directed both inward and at a scene quietly adhering to mainstream moral codes. “I know that real visionary shit be so damn hard to sell / They think they god these motherfuckers try to send me to hell,” she raps over hard, punishing club beats. The chorus later lands with an eye-roll, relishing the comeback while sounding almost unimpressed by the damage done. Killamisha’s story goes beyond that of a woman silenced for her art but also a panging wake-up call for the supposedly independent scene that is no freer than the mainstream.
29. “False Hope” – heavëner
Earlier this year, heavëner catered to hungry shoegaze fans with a split album alongside Aktadiri, mewl and The World Ends With You. Inspired by the four seasons, heavëner leans into a slightly poppier sound without losing the melancholy of heartbreak. On “False Hope”, the chorus wastes no words, falling on just three: “Let me go,” croons vocalist Maro. Whether he’s asking for freedom from a partner or from the heartbreak itself is unclear; what remains is the lingering ache that fills the air.
28. “KUALA LUMFLOW” – Dannqrack, Eemrun
“KUALA LUMFLOW”, a track by rappers Dannqrack and Eemrun, was born from a conversation about their fear of entering the 27 Club. In an interview with Men’s Folio, the duo recounts the moment plainly: “I asked Dann, ‘What if the album drops, everything is good, we’re on our way to success… but before reaching it, we both end up dead?’ You know, like the 27 Club?”
There’s an undeniable ego at play — the idea that their success even warrants comparison to those of 27 Club’s fallen stars — but the fear beneath it feels real. Set against low-lit trumpet melodies, their existential dread unfolds with you-only-live-once swagger. They fear death, but also it doesn’t hurt that they still want baddies around them, all while Kuala Lumpur backlitting their fame. It’s slightly ridiculous, like hearing a child repeat adult anxieties without fully grasping their weight. Yet the track lands somewhere honest by the end. They admit how hard it is to even begin talking about the fear of dying when life feels like it’s peaking. At least they still know how to have fun.
27. “You Can’t Stay Forever” – Azim Zain and His Lovely Bones
Starting his career in Canberra, Australia, back in 2015, Azim Zain and His Lovely Bones returned to his homeland in 2019, but the transition proved anything but simple. A clash of identity follows him: in Canberra, he was clearly a Malaysian boy making music for an Australian audience; back home, he’s expected to fit in, yet the world around him feels unfamiliar. That struggle with belonging and finding a place to call home is laid bare in “You Can’t Stay Forever.” He frames his conflict as if confronting an authority that reminds him he overstays his welcome, whether in a country or in his own feelings: “I don’t sound like I’m from Melbourne, Austin, Texas or Kuala Lumpur / I’m just a product of the places I try to call home.” Rooted in the aesthetics of millennial 2000s rock, the track is super earnest while still carrying catchy, melodic hooks. Belonging may still feel like a strange concept to him, but at least the track stakes its ground.
26. “Nyawa” – Guha Humana
There’s clearly something in Perak’s water nurturing the state’s most interesting artists. Guha Humana is one of them. Drawing inspiration from freak folk icons like Vashti Bunyan and psychedelic pop acts like Tame Impala, he braids these influences into a sound that takes time to face life’s whims. On “Nyawa” he channels that energy fully, singing about listening to Vashti Bunyan and reminiscing about winning an old lover back. He fantasises about what could happen if they reunite: “Akan ku putikkan kasih layu dulu / Akan ku buktikannya kembali,” he promises, quietly flirting with fate.
25. “Never Remember” – For Your Safety
“I’ll never remember / But how could I forget?” the narrator asks in taut juxtaposition on “Never Remember” by post-hardcore unit For Your Safety. The words repeat, almost mantra-like, yet each iteration carries a different swell of emotion — missing a friend? regretting farewells never said? — leaving the narrator almost clueless to say anything else. Around them, friends scream along, drums pound harder and harder. It’s a track made for collective emotional release, to be shouted at the top of your lungs in a packed, sweaty gig, even if everyone’s singing from the weight of their own separate memory.
24. “BBB” – Astral Angels
“BBB”, one of the standout tracks from electro-rap collective Astral Angels’ album AABNB, is an ego-jammed pressure cooker built from haywired tools and compressed into a claustrophobic machine. Compared to the group’s more sprawling, genre-hopping cuts, this one feels unusually bare. Manska, Nonsenselaaa, kidsteph and NIELNOI collide within its limited runtime, trading flashes of nonsense and manic energy altogether. Together, they offer a snapshot of a collective that knows exactly how little time it has, and wastes none of it.
23. “Seandainya kita terbang,…” – RuoH
The rest of RuoH’s debut album leans into alienated, lo-fi, unpolished flubs, but its opener, “Seandainya kita terbang…,” casts the album as a spiritual successor to Sang Rawi’s neo-traditional Malay music. Warm and cozy, it drifts like cool air brushing your cheek with fleeting memories. “Bersabarlah wahai teman / mengelamun atas awan-awan / kita terbang,” the vocals sings as it lifts you up. It’s fitting as an ending of a new beginning; bittersweet, yet scattered with glimmers of hope.
22. “Penyayang” – hawa
Since hawa first emerged as Eff Hakim’s solo indie rock project, she has deservingly carved a reputation of nothing less than a full-blown rock star. She channels that brash, I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude effortlessly. Yet beneath all that rage and resistance, so evident in her debut album Terkuburnya Seorang Gadis Di Kuala Lumpur, lies something more tender: a lover girl. “Penyayang” already feels like a future indie rock classic, a testament to that romantic vulnerability. In the first verse, she narrates her responses to different moments: when overflowing with love, she expresses it; when weighed down by bitterness or depression, she keeps it to herself. It’s love displayed in a fragile glass box, hoping her openness won’t push her partner away. Beneath the glam of being a rock star, muttering fuck-you’s in ways only she knows, “Penyayang” lands as a simple statement: she’s just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
21. “Kembali” – Joyberry
Sungai Petani’s indie pop hero Joyberry returns with an EP that picks up where their indie darling 2022 album left off: synth-pop that experiments with pop-punk melodies. In “Kembali” the narrator pleads for a lover to come back: “Kau teristimewa / Nama terindah / Di kalangan pujangga,” layered over buzzing synths that bounce from one feeling to another — a move that’s perhaps already become a Joyberry signature. It ends with a repetitive question, like a broken record pleading: “Will you ever turn, turn, turn, turn?” The result is still sweet, buried under a romanticism professed far too late.
20. “GLUED TO YA” – MISTER TWO FIVE
Formerly known as Apriltwentyfifth, the rapper who has reintroduced himself as MISTER TWO FIVE dropped his debut album in perhaps the most Gen-Z way possible: a series of videos of him rapping in front of everything from local kopitiams to mamak stalls to Giant hypermarkets. It’s a reintroduction packed with firm branding and a sprinkle of humor, whether he’s rapping about keeping a lover or navigating the industry’s harsh treatment. On “GLUED TO YA” especially, he takes the former and turns it into a swooning hip hop R&B track with showy affection just to prove he’s serious: “Look at my muscles they big as fuck / Covered in truffle and caviar.” Singer Efi’s bridge delivers the honest counterpoint of what all that showiness actually means: really, it’s nothing. One is desperate, the other just doesn’t care anymore. At least it’s a good show for the rest of us to watch.
19. “Neraka” – nonpareil
nonpareil’s swansong EP released December last year, Seandainya Laut Tenggelam, is a testament to a band that burned brightly, then disappeared, leaving tracks that feel too massive to be contained. “Neraka” for one, opens with a low, crooning bass that later erupts into jagged riffs and harsh vocals that expose the narrator’s depression. When the narrator snaps “Fuck this life!”, a ghostly voice whispers his past mistakes in the background. His anguish mirrors a reality he ignores: facing truth — even painful — is better than ignorance. “Ignorance is not bliss,” he repeats like a mantra that leaves us questioning whether he truly believes it or remains trapped in his torment.
18. “body count” – SHN
A quick glance at SHN’s discography reminds you of chronically online girls learning about love and identity from the surface-level lessons of the internet — see her previous singles “27 In A 7-Eleven” and “i can’t sleep, im too caffeinated.” “body count” fits that bill, released at a time when feeds were flooded with manosphere content shoving mics into random women’s faces to ask about their body count as if it were their business. SHN admits hers and turns it into a vulnerable pop tune. The track asserts both power and self-sabotage by acknowledging her pettiness, but also embraces the fragility of her own reputation: “I’ll sit atop the leaderboard / Alone with all my petty thoughts / My body count is better than yours.” It’s a game she’s grown familiar with, except this time she wants to be in charge of the narratives too. Through diaristic songwriting that shifts focus like blinking headlights, it’s inevitable to see the comparisons to her idol Gracie Abrams aimed for on The Story of Us. Yet “Body Count” carries more depth than any track on Abrams’ uneven and shallow album. This is a student so skilled, she easily outshines the idol.
17. “menyesal” – empty page.
The scene is always on the lookout for another pop-rock saviour and empty page. might as well be one. In “menyesal” taken from their recent album Punca Kecewa, its charismatic vocalist Zic laments a former lover who should have moved on from him already. When the chorus hits and the guitar riffs zap in, he confronts a confusing reality: “Wait, why am I the one feeling guilty?” The track proves empty page.’s potential to carry the torch of 2000s radio-friendly rock once dominated by male vocalists who probably should be in therapy instead of writing songs. It’s a formula repeated, pasted across the walls of the genre. Lucky for us, empty page. studies its predecessors’ moves so carefully that it remains a sound that’s fresh, fun and unmistakably theirs.
16. “John DB” – Makhluk Ahseng
I could never relate to the complaints about too few young people carrying the burnt torch of Malaysia’s golden independent scene. On the ground, if you actually bothered to show up, the kids are more than alright. One of them is Makhluk Ahseng. With only two songs out, they’re already rising among the Zoomers quietly taking charge of the scene, not needing the approvals from the otais. In “John DB” the grunge trio overinjects mystery and thrill that grows wilder with every passing second. It brims with monumental confidence and the braggadocio of a new band ready to explode. This track makes the scene feel alive and vibrant that anyone who says otherwise is lying straight through their teeth.
15. “Jangan Dulu” – Heidi Moru
The most frustrating thing about Heidi Moru is that her talent surpasses all of her peers, yet her discography timidly sits in the corner. “Jangan Lupa” is a track that slaps you with the immensity of her ability. Produced by Mafidz’ Megat Fazly, the song gushes with desperation for someone to stay because without them, life feels impossible. It’s a poignant dedication to Heidi’s father, weaving influences from Indonesian songstress Nadin Amizah to homegrown ballad divas. Yet on “Jangan Lupa” Heidi proves that while her influences are evident, she is a torrential vocalist capable of transcending them. It’s time for her to take her talent as seriously as the rest of us already do.
14. “Villa Marhaen” – Monoloque
Welcome to Villa Marhaen, where those in power are too busy building towers for show, while the rest of us sit on cold, hard ground. Monoloque delivers a political track that hops from one narrative to another with every line: the rich live lavishly, the poor struggle. But he doesn’t shy away from critiquing the poor’s tendency to worship the wealthy either: “Cantik rupawan, kaya agamawan / Minda kami sudah tertawan?” The lines hit harder with a nasyid group of children backing his vocals, echoing the timeless P. Ramlee classic “Tolonglah Kami.” It makes the class disparity all more eerie and planted, with its intention being obvious: to spark a thousand tiny revolutions.
13. “Magazine” – ira4ma
What do you get when boredom, BandLab and a growing obsession with 2hollis collide? “Magazine”, the breakout single by Shah Alam–based hyperpop artist ira4ma, first cut through niche internet circles earlier this year, drawing widespread attention everywhere but at home. Its appeal is immediate: an overwhelming implication of first love filtered through infectious glitching pop. Arriving seemingly out of nowhere, Magazine and ira4ma’s potent instinct for hyperpop craft proves that the Malaysian independent music scene never runs out of ways to surprise you. You just gotta look closer.
12. “Safe Haven On Mass Grave Of Childrens” – Piri Reis
“Safe Haven On Mass Grave of Children” by skramz unit Piri Reis wastes no time confronting the brutal reality behind the killing of six-year-old Palestinian Hind Rajab, a girl who was pleading for rescue when over 300 bullets were fired by the Israeli army. It’s a gut-wrenching story, one of countless moments where humanity has failed to free Palestine. The track pulls no punches, especially when Mira Sutan howls in anguish: “I’m not talking, my mouth is bleeding / In the chaos, my heart’s still pleading.” Since the onset of this ongoing genocide, the choice of which footage from Gaza we can stomach has been ours , but tracks like this force the suffering into undeniable presence. It’s a harrowing documentation of ongoing tragedy, making it one of the most gut-wrenching releases of the year.
11. “I Don’t Feel A Thing At All” – Zoe Tan
In one episode of Fleabag, the unnamed narrator confesses to a friend about her overflowing love for her recently deceased mother. “With all the love I have for her… I don’t know where to put it, now,” she sniffs between words. That seems to be the grounding premise of Zoe Tan’s “I Don’t Feel A Thing At All.” It’s a tight pop track that doesn’t shy away from the numbing grief and painful flashbacks of loss. Zoe vomits out a confession of how surprised she was that death came sooner than expected: “God, you lasted longer than I / Ever though you would but I keep / Ruminating back on all the / Things you’d say that I’d believe,” she laments. Her mental notes, once meticulously prepared for grief, now scattered and overwhelmed by the sudden reality. The track whispers the innocence of early Maggie Rogers and Lizzy McAlpine, equipped with songwriting chops of making numbness feel alive and present. Maybe we feel something, even when we don’t feel anything.
10. “Field of Light” – Oddweek
No one on this list presents small-town dilemmas like Haziq Hamsa does in Oddweek’s debut EP Field of Light. In the titular track especially, that dilemma wraps itself in wandering innocence and indie rock bittersweet riffs, paying attention to the mundane details of everyday life because what else is there to do but bore yourself away? “This ceiling fan spinning goes round and round / and today is raining for a long time / I’m getting colder,” he coos about his life in Lumut, a fisherman’s town in Perak. He dreams aloud of a better future but also asks: if I chase my dreams, would I have to leave my small town behind? The answer appears in the end: “Whatever you have been through / It’s a process of living.” You don’t have to figure it all out now.
9. “Straight Outta Pata Timo” – Ya Robin Yashar, Abe Yed
There’s a short documentary of Kelantan punk band No Good touring across the country. In it, their vocalist Smek delivers a blunt statement about the irony of carrying Kelantanese identity with pride while being unable to perform in the state itself. “Fuck PAS,” he says, without hesitation. That moment now finds new life in “Straight Outta Pata Timo,” a Ya Robin Yashar track featuring Smek under the moniker Abe Yed.
Inspired by N.W.A’s “Straight Outta Compton,” the track channels the rage of being Kelantanese while growing up under hypocrisy imposed by state rulers whose influence has been deeply ingrained since post-independence. It’s vulgar and enraged — “Panjang jele kain putih lilit atas pale / Slagi otok dekat pelir jangan ngidam bau syurge” — weaponising wit and humour against those in power. As the song plays, headlines bleed together inside your head: Dewan Pemuda PAS Pusat approving the Kelantan government’s purchase of Mercedes-Benz cars for state leaders; residents forced to drink murky tap water; elections repeatedly wiped clean in favour of the same power. Across the country, Kelantan’s suffering is reduced to crude jokes and empty pity. On the ground, it hardens into something else entirely: a lifelong reason to resist. Even if it lives inside an obscure hip-hop track, that resistance still feels immense.
8. “Vividness” – Fieldville
The Malaysian shoegaze scene has always known how to offer fun, in spite of what the genre’s general perception may deceive you into thinking it’s not. Take Ipoh-based “noise pop” unit Fieldville for a second. The band is gradually carving its way into the list of the most essential shoegaze acts we have, despite only having a few singles out and a promised EP no one really knows when it’s coming. But “Vividness” in particular offers sonics that I desperately want to hear more of from other shoegazers. It has dreamy, catchy melodies, a sprinkle of homage to Ride’s Nowhere with groovy bass and looping guitars and places it in a vacuum-pack jar of noise that you never want it to cut to silence.
7. “World-Class Lover” – Jetcetera
At their Perantara album launch, vocalist Aida Rashid told the audience she yearns for love a lot, even though she rarely falls in love. “There’s a lot of yearning in this album,” she admitted shyly into the mic. That tug-of-war feels especially enormous in “World-Class Lover.” Anxiety takes the spotlight first, magnified by the thought of having found the one — but not just any one, a World-Class Lover — while feeling you’re still far from their league. It has a gentle chant as a chorus, intended to calm a trembling heart: “It’s fine to know you / It’s fine to hold you / It’s fine to let you sweep me off my feet.” It captures the jitters of a first love: your heart trembling, terrified of messing it up, yet thrilled you finally have the person you want. It’s a mix of hope and uncertainty but isn’t that a phase we all secretly wish to relive over and over again?
6. “Kruise Kontrol” – Glazed Baguette
Despite being one of the shortest tracks on Glazed Baguette’s debut solo album Dirty Blues & .32s, “Kruise Kontrol” lands a gut punch with its witty braggadocio. It also weaves symbols of luxury and speed into dominance, atmospheric jazz, funky guitars and bars that never lose momentum. The ending hints at possible hiccups, but for now it’s nothing but speed-cruising at higher altitudes. It’s a track so sharp, you can’t help but want to ride with the same ego.
5. “Away” – Commemorate
Commemorate marks the next step of Malaysian shoegaze: what happens when bands abandon their usual sound and dive into shoegaze, just because? With Commemorate, it’s never a gimmick and “Away” embodies this perfectly, with drops that explode into a room like combusting air. Sasha Ningkan delivers her finest whisperpop, reminiscent of María Zardoya of The Marias, wrapped in swaying sadness and sparkling enchantment. Over its five-minute span, the song trudges through the mud of melancholy until it feels worn out but when the deafening chorus hits, you soar, staying afloat longer than you expect. And then it begins again: hypnotic, relentless, beautiful.
4. “lowkey” – Lucidrari ft. Heil Nuan
In 2025, Lucidrari became another unfortunate victim of local concertgoers turning one poor live performance into a viral symbol of failure. Still, that doesn’t take away from the fact that he delivered one of the year’s most infectious pop hits. “lowkey” featuring Heil Nuan, captures another young love strained by fame and ambition. The chorus is insanely catchy, especially with the flirtatious repetition of: “Teringat masa dulu you janji nak bersatu / Tapi sekarang sombong / Cane nak get along?” But it also has dynamics too, with Heil Nuan’s verse later asking the questions the narrator can’t: Does he actually want her back? Pretty much. Does she have to accommodate his glamorous, risque lifestyle now that he’s more successful? Yeah. And does his amateurish Hausboom performance mean he’s unfit to be pop’s breakout star? Be fucking for real.
3. “Merungkai Yang Terbengkalai” – kias
Male loneliness is an epidemic we’ve been forced to live with for far too long, and still one that rarely gets spoken about properly. In “Merungkai Yang Terbengkalai” screamo unit Kias spills a lifetime of bottled emotion across nearly seven minutes, trapped in the kind of shame that teaches men to stay silent. “Menutup pintu hadapan / Tiada lagi jalan keluar / Berkurung jiwa / Di lambung gelora,” vocalist Khairul howls, sounding cornered by his own thoughts. Midway through, guitars retreat into murmurs, stretching the tension and letting a grainy voice in. The voice urges the narrator to open up, arriving like an old friend who’s been watching the isolation unfold from the sidelines all along. When it reaches the end, the track erupts into a battle cry — “Lepaskan (kau) hati gelora jiwa / Lepaskan (kau) leraikan jiwa” — screamed with desperation. Framed by the emotional urgency of skramz, loneliness here is presented as something you’re forced to speak up, whether you’re ready or not.
2. “Penunggu” – Francoe
Francoe is one of the many talents we have that produces work so compelling it never needed to play by the scene’s silly rules and games. Comprising Ian Francis Khoo of The Filters and Rezza Coebar of Glass, together they put out post-rock greatness with craft so meticulous and universe-filling, you’d find it hard to believe it’s the work of a duo that sounds like a village making it. In “Penunggu” taken from their debut EP Gundah-Gulana, they stretch a short moment across a seven-minute track. The trajectory sounds like multiple songs stitched into one, with Rezza Coebar’s rich, resonant vocals narrating a lover giving his all. 2025 is the year we learn that love takes miles but also forces a question along the way: if I give love my all, what is left for me?
1. “sondak” – Joni Mustaf
2025 is the year I never thought I’d hear the Malay folk song “Ikan Kekek Mak Iloi Iloi” have its melodies mashed into a jampacked noise track but Joni Mustaf — the alter ego of longtime Ipoh indie rocker Mohd Jayzuan — has done it. It’s a gaudy yet glorious opener to his latest EP, langlang, written as a poem meant to lay out the bittersweet cruelty of life, with a hint of mockery for those who suffer. Here, Joni and his collaborators singsong and clap while he leads with the childish sneer of a boy mocking life’s doldrums: “Siapa sakit kena ejek / Siapa sakit kena ejek,” after reciting both beauty and sorrow aloud. The message takes decades of experience to live and learn through, but the sound built is as communal as one childhood evening, playing traditional games on the streets with strange kids, moms waiting at home, fathers gone missing to lepak with friends, and your feet burning on the scorching tar. In spite of age, we all share one thing in common: an innocence so bold in its knowing-it-allness that you can’t help but believe it’s true.
noisy headspace 
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