A few weeks back, I found myself in a hilarious situation: introducing my friends’ parents to the absolute force of nature that is Chappell Roan.
It all started innocently enough. I had a snippet of “Good Luck, Babe” playing on repeat in my brain, humming it incessantly. Before I knew it, the whole group was attempting the iconic “HOT TO GO” dance in their living room. And by the weekend’s end, there we were, lounging on their upstate New York deck, with lyrics about a “sexually explicit kind of love affair” providing the soundtrack to our evening, as if it were the most commonplace dinner music imaginable.
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Back in Brooklyn now, my go-to sonic marker has shifted: it’s impossible to walk a city block without hearing Charli XCX’s instant club anthems (from her album Brat) blasting from someone’s headphones or car speakers. This ubiquity has only intensified since Kamala Harris’s presidential campaign playfully embraced the internet’s “brat summer” meme, further cementing the album’s summer vibe.
And let’s not forget a few weeks prior when my own internal soundtrack was perpetually stuck on “laaaaate (cuz I’m a singerrrrr).” Yes, I’m talking about Sabrina Carpenter and “Espresso,” a track that felt like the only thing anyone was playing for a solid month.
These artists – Chappell Roan, Charli XCX, Sabrina Carpenter – along with their infectious tracks, have soundtracked my summer. My friends are putting them on repeat at every gathering. My social media feeds are flooded with their news and memes. They are, quite simply, everywhere.
This begs the question: shouldn’t these artists and their hits be the frontrunners for the coveted title of 2024’s Song Of The Summer? Aren’t they the obvious choices?
Well, not according to the charts. A quick glance at the top of the Billboard Songs of the Summer chart reveals a landscape that feels… disconnected. Post Malone and Morgan Wallen currently reign supreme with “I Had Some Help,” a song I genuinely struggle to recall, even if prompted. Further down, we find Tommy Richman, an artist completely new to me, sitting in the fourth spot.
So, what’s the disconnect? How are these relatively lesser-known songs overshadowing the pop queens who seem to be dominating the cultural conversation and, more importantly, our personal summer experiences? And if even the “most popular song in America” feels unfamiliar, does the concept of a unifying song of the summer even hold water anymore?
Decoding the Song of the Summer Phenomenon
In the absence of a clear-cut definition, understanding the song of the summer requires a journey through its history. The idea itself is surprisingly old, stretching back to the 19th century when music primarily circulated as sheet music.
As Phil Edwards detailed in a Vox article, music dissemination was a slow process in those days. Early hits, like 1826’s “The Old Oaken Bucket,” could take decades to gain widespread recognition across the country.
The advent of the 20th century and technologies like radio revolutionized music’s reach, allowing songs to achieve popularity much faster and broader. While summer hits emerged, the official song of the summer was not yet a defined concept.
“It’s not like people were walking around in 1925 and saying, ‘You think that’s the summer song this year?’” music critic and author David Hajdu explained to CNN. “But the phenomenon was beginning to happen.”
The launch of Billboard’s first Hot 100 chart in 1958, with Domenico Modugno’s Italian ballad “Nel Blu di Pinto de Blu (Volaré)” topping the list, provided a quantifiable metric for the song of the summer, though it didn’t invent the idea. For a period, the Hot 100 seemed to accurately capture the season’s ubiquitous tunes. Think of 1964 with The Supremes’ “Where Did Our Love Go?”, 1976 with “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” by Elton John and Kiki Dee, or 1982’s anthemic “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor.
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However, the 21st century brought a shift. The early 2000s delivered undeniable summer hits so iconic they barely need introduction: “Crazy in Love,” “Umbrella,” “Call Me Maybe,” “Despacito.” But as we moved into the 2020s, the consensus started to fracture. DaBaby’s “Rockstar,” declared the song of the summer of 2020 by Billboard, didn’t resonate with everyone’s summer experience. Similarly, last year, Morgan Wallen’s “Last Night,” despite its chart success, seemed to fly under the radar for many, including myself. And this year, Wallen is back at the top with a new summer song contender.
The Streaming Era: Fragmenting the Summer Soundtrack
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the way we consume music has dramatically changed since Billboard began tracking summer hits. We are now firmly in the “streaming era,” where a significant portion of music consumption occurs on platforms like YouTube, Spotify, and Apple Music, alongside traditional radio.
This shift has lessened the influence of radio DJs and music executives in dictating hits, distributing power more directly to listeners. These listeners are often guided by personalized recommendation algorithms on platforms like Spotify, which has prioritized algorithm-driven playlists since at least 2020.
Musicologist Charlie Harding, co-host of Switched on Pop, argues that in the streaming age, Billboard’s charts might actually be more accurate reflections of popular listening habits.
“In the era of mass media monoculture, we just weren’t as talented at capturing people’s collective listening,” Harding stated on Today, Explained. “Sure, maybe they were being broadcast more of the same stuff, but you didn’t know what people were playing back to back on their boombox. Now we can actually count exactly what people are listening to on streaming services.”
The streaming era has enabled a wider array of artists, representing diverse genres and communities, to organically climb the charts via non-traditional routes. Currently, Harding points out, the top of the charts reflects varied listening communities: Black country artist Shaboozey, pop sensation Sabrina Carpenter, rap heavyweight Kendrick Lamar, and indie darling Hozier, among others.
However, music consumption, to some extent, operates as a zero-sum game. As we increasingly delve into our niche listening habits within streaming services, even the biggest artists are seeing their overall stream counts potentially diluted. This creates a landscape where the Billboard-anointed song of the summer might feel disconnected from individual experiences.
But perhaps this isn’t necessarily a negative development.
“Whatever your community is listening to, that’s going to be your song of summer,” Harding suggests. “I think you shouldn’t stress about what everyone is listening to. I think you should pay attention to what your friends and community are connecting with.”
This story originally appeared in *Today, Explained**, Vox’s flagship daily newsletter.* *Sign up here for future editions**.*
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