The 15 best cover songs of 2025
Featuring a videogame commercial song, a Janet Jackson interpolation, one beloved indie-rock guy covering another, and a national treasure at her best.
Photo of Kelela by Dervon Dixon
Another song list! This one is a personal favorite of mine, because it means I get to spend a lot of time with artists I like covering other artist’s songs. Last December, Paste crowned Merce Lemon’s cover of “I See a Darkness” as the year’s best. This time around, we got some great ideas (Jake Xerxes Fussell covering Arthur Russell’s “Close My Eyes”) and some not so great ones (Iron & Wine and Ben Bridwell covering Kendrick Lamar’s “Luther”). There were a few tribute albums that popped up here and there, honoring the works of Jason Molina and Neil Young, and a not-so-good limited TV series got Weyes Blood back in the studio. CMAT visited the BBC Live Lounge and made Tate McRae’s biggest song actually listenable, while Geese got peer-pressured into butchering the New Radicals’ “You Get What You Give.” But none of those things are on the list you’re about to read. Instead, we’re highlighting the background noise in a 90-second gaming console commercial, one of the best Joni Mitchell covers in literally a couple decades, and a #1 pick that could have easily slotted into the top five of our year-end best songs ranking if it weren’t a cover. So let’s take a ride. Here are the best cover songs of 2025.
15. Cat Power: “Try Me” (James Brown)
Cat Power’s Chan Marshall has always had the Midas touch when it comes to covers. 2000’s The Covers Record yielded some of her greatest hits, such as her stripped back rendition of Phil Phillips’ “Sea of Love.” It’s no wonder Marshall’s return this year came with another interpretation—a moody rendition of James Brown’s “Try Me,” released in celebration of the upcoming 20th anniversary of The Greatest, backed by the Dirty Delta Blues. Marshall suits the Godfather of Soul’s groove well, because her songs always ride on instinct, never feeling mannered or overly contrived. Even while interpreting Brown’s standalone R&B, Marshall evokes a minimalist style, cutting her bright, jazzy parts with loose blues riffs and lethargic, swaggering rhythms. But the cover succeeds most because of Marshall’s vocal, which imbues every note with an air of tattered vulnerability. When she groans “oh, I need you” for the final time as “Try Me” closes, it’s a real plea. Most musicians know about the line between tribute and originality, and Cat Power always toes it beautifully. —Caroline Nieto
14. Beverly Glenn-Copeland: “Save the Children” (Marvin Gaye)
Marvin Gaye might be the most un-coverable artist of all time, aside from maybe Stevie Wonder. But Beverly Glenn-Copeland’s rendition of “Save the Children” is a stunning turn, backed by just Thom Gill’s guitar, his and Glenn’s twin pianos, and a quiet but sprawling symphony behind them. I think it’s a beautiful, aching song, in both Marvin’s hands and Glenn’s, and I was especially moved by what Glenn had to say about Marvin and his What’s Going On song. “Marvin Gaye was my teacher,” he said. “Though I didn’t get the chance to meet him in this life, his untimely death broke my heart. I still listen and learn from his wisdom. Marvin’s music is prophetic and his message of unity through love still rings true today. I’m honored to be covering these two deeply meaningful songs that captured the zeitgeist of a nation at a pivotal time in our shared history. Listen to his introspective lyrics. Dance to his soulful grooves. Get yourself alive in the hands of a master and heed his call.” —Matt Mitchell
What's Going On / Save The Children by Beverly Glenn-Copeland
13. Sophie Thatcher & Maral: “Sad & Beautiful World” (Sparklehorse)
In March, Drop of Sun released We Love It Here, a compilation of songs recorded by friends of the studio, in an effort to raise money for artists directly impacted by Hurricane Helene. The disc gave us previously unheard work from MJ Lenderman, Hello Mary, Fust, and Animal Collective. But for me, the prize was always Sophie Thatcher and Maral’s cover of “Sad & Beautiful World,” taken from Sparklehorse’s debut album, Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot. It’s a beautiful, hazy rendition. Mark Linkous would have loved it. The lo-fi, fingerpicked melody aches until the droning backdrop swells uncontrollably. What we’re left with is a barbaric coda, with electronic swatches paling, twisting, and blistering under piles and piles of noise. It sounds like a recorder eating the tape—pretty, mangled, and, after a squelching, vibrating sunset, finally at peace. —Matt Mitchell
We Love It Here. A Benefit Compilation for Lamplight AVL by Sophie Thatcher, Maral
12. Cameron Winter: “Dancing in the Dark” (Bruce Springsteen)
You can hear Cameron Winter singing “Dancing in the Dark” in the launch trailer for the ROG Xbox Ally. The commercial came out in October, while Geese were touring the U.S. behind their perfect 10 album Getting Killed, meaning that this cultural moment got seemingly buried beneath a great record and the sold-out, cross-country trek it inspired. The bright side to Winter having the most unique voice in indie rock right now is that there’s no mistaking it. The Xbox clip isn’t even 90 seconds long, but just a snippet of Winter singing the Springsteen classic over a looping synth is good enough to make this list. Around the 50-second mark, when the “you can’t start a fire without a spark” chorus arrives, he kicks the tenor of his voice up to a warbling, gorgeous falsetto. It’s disarmingly beautiful, no matter how brief. —Matt Mitchell
11. Ducks Ltd. ft. Lunar Vacation: “Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken” (Camera Obscura)
Ducks Ltd. are one of my favorite bands, and I am especially drawn to their cover songs. Two years ago, I named their take on the Feelies’ “Invitation” the 2nd-best cover of that year. They haven’t released any “new” work since last year’s Harm’s Way and two singles, but they did give out a cover of Camera Obscura’s “Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken.” Look, I love Camera Obscura. I love Ducks Ltd. This idea was bound to work, and it very much does! I haven’t listened to a song on this list more than this one, and a lot of that is because Gep Repasky, the vocalist in Atlanta’s best indie band Lunar Vacation, provides backup vox. Repasky provides the tune with a beautiful undertow of soprano, paying a delicate compliment to Tom McGreevy’s lovesick lead and Evan Lewis’ jacknife guitar strumming. Ducks Ltd. play the whole thing straight. What comes out is twee-pop worship at its strongest. —Matt Mitchell
Lloyd, I’m Ready to Be Heartbroken (feat. Lunar Vacation) by Ducks Ltd.
In June, Broken Social Scene compiled ANTHEMS: A Celebration of Broken Social Scene’s You Forgot It In People, calling upon the likes of Hovvdy, the Weather Station, Maggie Rogers, SPIRIT OF THE BEEHIVE, and Hand Habits to reinterpret every song on the Toronto band’s second album. serpentwithfeet’s alterations to “Lover’s Spit” still linger in me. The Baltimore-bred and Brooklyn-based R&B practitioner trims the song down by four minutes, stripping away the guitars and strings but bringing its blinking, peculiar electronics into a colorful, bursting view of newness. serpentwithfeet stirs over a naked piano melody, buggy field recordings, and synth clippings, using his soft, breathy touch to make beautiful alterations to one of this century’s greatest songs. Call it a cover, call it a remix, call it whatever. “Lover’s Spit” has two perfect versions now. —Matt Mitchell
This ain’t the first time Fust and Merce Lemon have worked together. The Durham rockers called upon the Pittsburgh songwriter to sing harmonies on “What’s His Name,” an understated ballad from their March record 
“Una Spiaggia” is a fascinating inclusion on Earthstar Mountain, considering that it’s an Ennio Morricone composition (previously titled “Una spiaggia a mezzogiorno”) from the Vergogna Schifosi film score. Hannah Cohen, with the help of Sufjan Stevens on piano and recorder, Sean “Moon” Mullins on percussion, Sam Evian on guitar, and Clairo on clarinet and vocal harmonies, repurposed the track as an homage to Morricone, an orchestrator whose prolific curriculum vitae spans hundreds of titles. The original recording of “Una Spiaggia” featured singing from Edda Dell’Orso, whose 5-octave range provided reference for an inspired Cohen. She told me earlier this year: “[Morricone] never said no to a project, and I really love that about him. We were on tour last year, driving across Utah, and I put this record on. I was like, ‘Oh, I don’t know this one.’ Everyone was sleeping in the back of the van or had their headphones on. Sean was driving and we both were just floored.” There’s a moment in the song when Stevens’ and Evian’s recorders become indistinguishable from Cohen’s cresting vocal. It’s beyond spiritual, lifting me high, high, high. —Matt Mitchell
Refugia Blues is not the drumbeat of a revolution, but its urgent strum. Without his usual Okay Crawdad band backing him up, Shoulders goes solo with only an acoustic guitar in hand. The album is toned-down into a dynamic, softer reckoning that’s far more subdued than the catch-all, rebellious saga of 2023’s All Bad. Every record he makes has a cover or two. The last one featured cuts from the late Jim Cheatham and the still-going Chris Acker. On Refugia Blues, a record where Shoulders criticizes manifest destiny and genocide, sings his own hymn of resistance, pulls poetry out of star-lit roads and blossomed glades, and whistles through grace and Southern proverb, it’s fitting that he would end the project with reinvention, by way of Randy Travis’ 1986 song “Diggin’ Up Bones.” It’s not only a story about a man pulling the belongings of a dead lover out of storage, but a window into Shoulders’ heart. Long stationed at the forefront of outlaw country’s resurgence, co-running a record label, and forging his own canon of thoughtful, restless brilliance, Shoulders’ voice stays immediate and vital on Refugia Blues, even when he’s singing someone else’s words. —Matt Mitchell 
Addison Rae is one of my favorite emerging pop stars, and HAIM is an institution I like returning to again and again. But I don’t quite know what to make of this fact: HAIM’s cover of Addison Rae’s “Headphones On” is not only better than Rae’s original, but it’s better than everything on the band’s latest album, I quit. Interpolating Janet Jackson’s “Got ‘til It’s Gone,” which samples Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”?? Danielle Haim’s absolutely mental guitar solo at the end??? The sisters substitute Rae’s nostalgic, downtempo beat for their own flavor of electro-R&B, anchored by Este Haim’s lyrical bass groove. What an unbelievable performance to witness, one that shortens the gap between Addison and The Velvet Rope. Splendid down to the last note. —Matt Mitchell
The tension between knowing and not knowing—between part and whole—animates Ezra Furman’s latest album, Goodbye Small Head. By its end, there is no fantasy of repair; only a million-dollar question: Can we still imagine something gentler, even after everything? Then comes the final plunge. “I Need the Angel”—a cover of a song by her friend Lex Walton—is the album’s closing cry, and its most desperate. The arrangement is towering, enormous, scorched. Furman chants the refrain like a prayer: “I must need the angel / She sure as hell don’t need me / I must need the angel / So I can have a place to be.” By the song’s end, Furman is gasping—actual, audible gulps for air were left in the final mix. That’s how the album concludes. No metaphors, no words. Just a body, burning its way through a prayer. It’s a fitting end—the way it closes not on language, but breath. —Casey Epstein-Gross
At 11 minutes long, Four Tet’s Kieran Hebden and William Tyler completely transform Lyle Lovett’s “If I Had a Boat.” They forgo Lovett’s lyrics, instead using his guitar ideas as ground zero for their own wire pulling. Hebden and Tyler’s version is a diptych, protracted until it exits “cover” territory and enters something totally original. One half of the song showcases Tyler’s fingerpicking talent and piles of twisting, narcotic noise. Hebden enters during the latter half, via these blippy, wobbling electronics. His part is beautiful before collapsing into ripped up collages of strident synths and alien bloops. Transient and transitional, “If I Had a Boat” is Tyler’s wayfaring stranger pulled apart by Hebden’s disorienting paths, where a stinging restlessness gives way to beautiful ambition. —Matt Mitchell
Covering Joni Mitchell is a rite of passage. Some covers are great (Prince’s “A Case of U”; CSNY’s “Woodstock”), some covers are good (Judy Collins’ “Both Sides, Now”; Janet Jackson’s “The Beat of Black Wings”), but some covers are just Not For Me (Sarah McLachlan’s “River”). I’d stick Kelela’s take on “Furry Sings the Blues,” a Hejira deep cut, in Prince and CSNY’s company. On In the Blue Light, an album-length catalogue re-interpretation recorded live at the Blue Note in New York, Kelela slips in her Joni song between Hallucinogen’s “All the Way Down” and Take Me Apart’s “Blue Light.” Her version is a scaled-back, moody sojourn. She’s settled into the groove of her bandmates, especially Briley Harris’ heavy-chested thrum of Rhodes piano. Alayna Rodgers and Xenia Manasseh’s harmonies slip in and out of the backdrop, while Buz Donald’s drumming knocks slightly. “Furry Sings the Blues” is the kind of song that demands a jazz club audience, and Kelela brings the “ghosts of the darktown society come right out of the bricks at me like it’s a Saturday night” image to its rightful home. —Matt Mitchell 
A song can acquire new meaning in the hands of another. That’s what happens to the glistening ‘80s pop of This Is Lorelei’s “Dancing in the Club” when Jake “MJ” Lenderman puts his own twangy, bluegrass spin on it. After covering it in his live sets, Lenderman shared the studio version for the deluxe version of This Is Lorelei’s Box for Buddy, Box for Star. Whereas Nate Amos’ original cloaks its lovelorn woes in AutoTune and pentatonic synth riffs, Lenderman presents its self-deprecations laid bare. “A loser never wins / And I’m a loser, always been,” he sings with a shaky delivery, administering fresh gloom into one of its most indelible lines. With Lenderman’s care, Amos’ brilliant song gets another life. —Grant Sharples
When the Band is done singing “The Weight” during The Last Waltz, an ecstatic Mavis Staples, standing just far enough away from her microphone, lets out a whisper: “Beautiful.” It’s a moment I look forward to hearing every Thanksgiving when I put the concert on, and there it is always. This year, Mavis returned with Sad and Beautiful World, a collection of cover songs recorded in the collaborative, spirited tradition of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band’s Will the Circle Be Unbroken. The project’s lead single, a rendition of Kevin Morby’s “Beautiful Strangers,” features a who’s-who of contributors: Nathaniel Rateliff and Tré Burt on backup vox, Bon Iver’s Matt McCaughan, Hippo Campus’s Nathan Stocker, MJ Lenderman, brothers Brad and Phil Cook, the Mountain Goats’ Matt Douglas, and Mavis’ bandleader, the great Rick Holmstrom. “I just have to deliver the compassion I feel,” Mavis said. “I want to share the song the way I feel it.” Her voice never rises to a holler during “Beautiful Strangers.” Wrapped in a blinking country riff, a hum of harmony, short gusts of saxophone, and the aching tandem of the Cooks’ vibraphone and piano, she sings “and if I die too young for something I ain’t done, carry my name every day” like she’s held onto the words for a lifetime. When Morby heard the song for the first time, he called it “hands down the greatest moment and highest honor of my career.” Mavis is everything she’s ever been in these six minutes, when the instruments quiet down and she asks us to “carry onward, like some songbird.” And when the song ends, all I can say is “beautiful.” —Matt Mitchell
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