The Top 100 Mandopop Singles of 2023
The Top 100 Mandopop Singles of 2023
the best Mandopop singles of the year, including babyMINT, Karencici, SOWUT, and more and more
Most of my favourite songs this year looked forward. Past the wreckage of a painful relationship, past the all-consuming nature of grief. It wasn’t just looking beyond the past either—several looked towards thrills, the thrilling idea of tossing it all out the balcony and savouring life, the thrilling idea of your new love. There’s something about the former that’s like a cool exhale, but there’s something about the latter that’s hot, sticky, and invigorating.
Once again went with anything from December 2022 to November 2023. One group defined the year, but my favourite song comes from an artist who’s defined the early part of the decade. Find playlists on Spotify, Apple Music (one substitution with my favourite English track from a Chinese artist at #30), and Youtube (handful of tracks missing official uploads here). Enjoy!
100. Shi Shi - “Remembered”
Despite impossibilities, the characters of Someday or One Day hold hope, even when cast in an unfamiliar time. They cherish every second with the person they love, even if they’re not quite as they remembered. Shi Shi’s theme song for the drama series floated around these impossibilities with optimistic adoration, but her theme song for the film latches onto each second. The plaintive ballad does everything just right in flutters of flutes and crashes of drums—both of which lift and destroy the vocalist. Yet even as her voice drops to a low whisper, she’s hopeful, praying for some sort of loophole to its rules, holding onto the undying dream that her love will never end.
99. I’mdifficult - “Moonlight”
An uncertain start in dissonant coos and muffled voices. Over rattling melodies and uneasy tones, the Taiwanese four-piece drop their combative stance for something more sanguine: “smile before I see ya / maybe we could try to save it,” turning to more tender vocals of dotzio before being swallowed by the fog.
98. OHAN - “NOAH (feat. Chun Zhang)”
Over garage-band drums and rough-edged guitars, the I Mean Us vocalist closes a romantic gap in sad boy fashion, his voice raspy and uneven as he slides between the track’s three languages.
97. Queen Suitcase - “Dear Friends”
The band calls on the rollicking strum and warm choral vocals of ‘70s soft rock for a catch-up conversation and a comfortable embrace that leaves you homesick.
96. Dubhe - “把银河装进口袋”
With club beats made dreamlike, Dubhe attempts to mute the jitters as he stutters through attempts to confidently express his feelings on “把银河装进口袋” (“Put the Galaxy in Your Pocket”).
95. KST - “All Good Things Come to an End”
Each note sings over the Taiwanese post-rock band’s unhurried procession. They contemplate the absolution of change, culminating in a blazing display as they bid farewell.
94. Dizzy Dizzo - “A$$ (feat. O.Dkizzya & Lizi)”
Dizzy Dizzo always makes it look effortless but what sounds superfluous is there to raise her profile: the siren over the hook is a buzzy fever that makes her appearance an event; the features are space fillers that act as another casual flex.
93. Neci Ken - “Once I Thought of Leaving”
Suicidal thoughts are ushered into the light as the intricate slow-burning indie rock outgrows its container. Here, the duo’s strained voices reason with a bitter “but I didn’t have the courage,” even as they seemingly long for a better reason.
92. Lil Ghost - “Last Day”
Lil Ghost’s voice is a knife. “You suck,” he whispers. A thousand cuts follow.
91. xxslowly34 - “真心話”
Stripping it bare, the R&B singer’s raspy voice is overlayed over nothing but an acoustic guitar and a nimble beat. He offers amnesty to others, but worries he won’t be gifted the same: “I’m scared of the you who knows the truth,” he sings, slipping between languages on “真心話” (“Truth”) to evade an answer.
90. HAOR - “Less By Day”
The deliberate slowness of the ballad is committed to onward, even if that means forgetting day by day and little by little. HAOR knows he can’t have both, so he selfishly asks for you to commit every happiness to memory.
89. Wen Zhaojie - “一程不顺时时常有”
Wen’s psychedelic folk is guided by optimism; over burbling drums, he sings in a processed falsetto on “一程不顺时时常有” (“A Bad Journey Often Happens”) of the song of fog and heavenly light.
88. AcQUA - “Mmm… Ah”
“Sometimes a meme makes her laugh like an achievement,” eighteen-year-old Gogwan Lee raps. Gamified metaphors and standard boy group posturing don’t stand a chance against the giddiness at the core of a crush as the five member clumsily attempt to impress above its bed of squeaky synths.
87. LIU KOI - “breathe in, breathe out”
LIU KOI loops clichés into instructional comforts, meditating on his own mode of reassurance in the clammy deep house track.
86. Yu Jiayun - “对的人”
Old-fashioned R&B laid over a slight swing rhythm, the flutter of keys, and warm drafts of strings; “对的人” (“Right Person”) is a timeless piece meant for that fairy-tale wedding slow dance.
85. XIANG - “為何妳要假裝忘了我 (feat. Kaizly)”
It’s a floral-stamped letter pleading to an ex. XIANG mixes self-blame with apologetic bargaining; Kaizly starts with a hardened rebuff but offers the same soft-boy aesthetics on 為何妳要假裝忘了我” (“Why Are You Pretending You Forgot Me”), his rap arriving at a lowly concession as he admits to being something of a letdown.
84. Limi & Josh Tu - “Those Lightning Bolts Pointed at You”
Indie-pop duo Limi and guitarist Josh Tu create a tempest in their reinterpretation of Lin Wanyu’s poetry. Li traces everything back to a lover on the pre-chorus, climbing to a breathless falsetto before letting herself dance toward him over the producers’ thunder.
83. Xiao Xia - “Fly to the top of the cloud (feat. Ocean Bo)”
With the younger rapper on the track, Xiao Xia’s satisfied sigh doesn’t feel like a product of wisdom, but a virtue of being the dreamer. In their comfortable lodging, the unlikely pair make it clear that there’s always room for more of that.
82. PALMS - “路口”
The narration of “路口” (“Intersection”) glows with crackling warmth.
81. 9m88 & Kuroda Takuya - “What If?”
Taiwanese musician 9m88 enlists Japanese trumpeter Kuroda Takuya for her cover of Tom Chang’s “What If?” the pair bridging the distance between their standard jazziness and funky sound of Chang’s original. The end result is playful in a way only a woman could be.
80. OPENsi - “A Little Love”
Springtime moodiness is often a feint. “A Little Love” quickly brightens up as the boy group embrace hot-blooded pop-rock on its chorus.
79. mOOn no - “天空是粉红色”
Awkwardly puffing over dizzying 2-step and sweet waves of synths, mOOn no makes the flush of the sky on “天空是粉红色” (“Sky Is Pink”) not only sound rare, but also incredibly romantic.
78. Yoga Lin - “Wordless Groans”
Lin submits in feeble position: “I’m not a God, just a humble mortal who falls for you,” he sings over the bare-bones track, romantic in its devotion.
77. Nine Chen - “Morning and Night”
The connective tissue of its cyclical nature—from good morning to goodnight, from love myself to love yourself—is Chen’s stirring performance, a promise to eventually close the remaining distance unspoken in every check-in.
76. GALI - “REDBEAST”
GALI boasts and growls over bass wobbles and trap percussion, the popping hook backing up every claim.
75. Janice Yan - “Full HP (feat. A Pu)”
As she struts over high-strung nu-disco, Yan sounds expeditious and fierce in her demand for full attention. Lucky for her, 831’s A Pu is an equally intense match.
74. Kai Tsang - “Fleeing by Night”
Over its sea of noise, verses feel slightly off, while the chorus contains a chirpy imitation of piercingly sharp Chinese opera. Through the nihilism is something approaching a feeling: “tonight it’s just us, just us,” Tsang trawls.
73. Haezee - “Dance in da Moonlight (feat. step.jad)”
Not for secrecy but rather unwillingness to depart, the two vocalists connect beyond dusk, their featherlight R&B melodies grounded by the Afrobeats percussion.
72. JIHU - “Winter with You”
Stoking the flame of an enduring romance, the R&B singer goes retro with a tender karaoke ballad that’s comfortably toasty.
71. Deng Dian - “Talking About U”
Brag raps and grimy come-ons over a house beat, fried coos over a funk groove—Deng’s dirtbag performance is ultimately a success as he lands a sweaty finale that winds down with a neon guitar.
70. ?te - “F.O.”
Her whispered curse is her outward expression—calm and collected—but that droning bassline is ?te’s inner turmoil; as she seethes and schemes, she transforms all energy into rage.
69. HowZ - “Wonderland”
HowZ details in Mandarin and desires in English. Over the seesawing motion of the UK Garage track, his carnal back-and-forth between action and lust make for a hot-and-heavy affair.
68. VaVa - “New Rules”
Trap beats are imposing when saddled alongside sinewy drill wobbles—VaVa towers here, running off her achievements. A scene change throws her to a funk carioca party; it’s less imperial, but worth celebrating.
67. Lily Chou-Chou Lied - “Dawn On”
The Taiwanese trio are ceremonial as ever, proceeding in a stately hum. They offer themselves in tribute to a higher being, sacrificing themselves to ritualistic, buzzing vibrations on the brooding chorus.
66. Shopping Mood - “SO FAR Away”
Like disembodied avatars, the Chinese collective Shopping Mood sputters in warped voices about opposing forces of alienation and connection above glitchy synths. On “SO FAR Away,” members LoMo, nighteye, and Lily44 attempt to level their separately designed spaces to create something resembling community.
65. anti-talent - “The Happy Song”
With her breezy hook, singer Huang Ruoxin throws caution to the wind on Puzzleman’s carefree funk production. anti-talent get there by the end, the trio dismissing anything other than joy.
64. Hogan T. - “Night Drive”
Hogan T. coasts at leisurely pace over “Night Drive,” unperturbed by its alien instrumental. “What’s the difference between dreams and reality? I’m locked in a room all day anyway,” he questions then capitulates—over the squelch of synths, it’s unclear which one this ride falls under.
63. Bestards - “Farewell”
The chorus, as Kidding voices his reluctance to leave, boasts the most arresting melody of the year, soaring through the band’s modest dressing.
62. Ma Di - “亿万日落”
“亿万日落” (“Millions and Millions of Sunset”)—how many years is that? Ma answers in the song, drawing an endless expanse with his shimmering dream pop, while planting something else at its centre. “Now I just want you,” he sings in a low hush, etching you and him into its forever.
61. AZ - “Fawahan”
Bookended with a story of grief from an Amis elder, “Fawahan”—the Amis word for gate—combines their tradition with modern emo markers. Its use of Amis, Mandarin, and English similarly arrives at a unique place of identity and generation. He repurposes a guttural groan that might have once been in surrender into a guiding beacon, a source of comfort that’s a painful solace if relatable.
60. Edisong - “Liminal”
Its orchestral build never drops. Instead, Edison slips into a separate plane. His voice is squeezed into a wheezed falsetto and “Liminal” flips again, from buzzy synths to whirring drone. By its end, it stretches into an infinite blank expanse.
59. SmashRegz - “三倍?”
SmashRegz boldly announce their comeback on “三倍?” (“Three Times?”), with caricatures of themselves: a squiggly talkbox performance from SJIN, maniacal growls from Troutfresh, and kooky detours from Chang Wu.
58. Young Captain - “LOVE (feat. Zheng Runze)”
The pair’s close harmonies zoom in on one relationship and one moment for an intimacy that makes its revelation feel stunning: “before I knew it, I fell in love with you.”
57. TIA RAY - “RIVER FLOW”
Moving water encloses “RIVER FLOW” as if TIA RAY has built the song from that current. Her voice follows that motion, the head of each melody swiftly diluted in its flow. Delicate guitars perform pentatonic melodies and the beat bobs like the soft thud of bamboo rockers—with “RIVER FLOW,” TIA RAY heralds home.
56. VERA - “Playboyz (feat. Karencici)”
The boy group shit-talk and strut over the trap beat: “you yapping boy toyz / sorry y’all ain’t shit in my eyes.” The text is ambiguous, unclear whether they’re dismissing their own slimeball or defending a friend—“Playboyz” leans into the latter with the arrival of Karencici, who puts it over the top as she softly counters their snide jeers.
55. SHOU - “Runner Runner”
The song is as charming as its music video—a delightful homage to Stephen Chow in God of Gamblers II—“Runner Runner” boasts some of the rapper’s cockiest bars and most absurd hook over its flippant, plinky beat.
54. Fann - “Opaque”
“Thoughts fly here and there, I can’t turn off the noise,” Fann hums. Minimalistic, yet her fragmented phrases move in incongruous fashion over the irregular bassline, eventually burrowing with the looped descending chord motif. “Opaque” coheres only to melt in the process of reorganizing the noise to better understand the self.
53. SIRUP, The Crane & whoosh - “UMAMI”
South Korean producer whoosh lays a flimsy beat, a mirror to the Japanese and Taiwanese R&B artists’ headspace as they pine for clarity. The track’s flavours lean bitter: a kiss and a cigarette, the uncomfortable feel of swallowing lukewarm soup, and sharpness of a love failing, a taste you can’t help but savour.
52. YUAN - “Two blocks to London”
As his eyes attempt to refocus over its lax boom bap beat, the rapper is grounded by contact: “you can feel my blood when you hold me.” Has anything ever felt so intimate?
51. Jasmine Yen - “tbh”
Yen plays it confident on the scorcher, every run approached with self-assurance, every come-on like she’s got a third man on standby.
50. Peter Lin - “偷心小盜賊”
The heart of NewJeans’ “Ditto”—their aching Baltimore club single—beats at the centre of “偷心小盜賊” (“Heart Stealing Thief”), molded like a replacement as he decays in the aftermath of a painful split. “I’m gone, I’m gone, I’m gone, I guess I fell in love,” Lin sings, those final words inflected with bitterness as he wraps himself in autotune. Using the standards of emo-rap, he flips the K-pop group’s infatuation into crushing heartache.
49. Wooly - “沒太多如果”
Balancing her optimism with a dose of realism, Wooly advances alongside slingshot guitar riffs and feverish drumming on the spirited “沒太多如果” (“Not Too Many Ifs”).
48. Charity SsB - “Angel”
Charity SsB pares it all down until what’s left is a sweet lyrical riff of Michael Wong’s “Fairy Tale” pinballing over the frenetic Baltimore club beat and innocent fluff built out of childlike sound effects.
47. She Her Her Hers & Sweet John - “Echo”
“Echo” is two indie-pop bands melding their strains of dream pop: the glossy electronics of Japanese trio She Her Her Hers are propped by the live instrumentation of Taiwanese four-piece Sweet John as they craft an idyllic summer romance.
46. Jiao Maiqi - “Unhealthy Love”
That first week is always the hardest. While separation of “Unhealthy Love” could be either temporary or permanent, Jiao makes his agitation clear as he punches each word of the final verse’s lyrical switch from missing someone to being annoyed with them. The exhaustion is palpable as he calls for their return.
45. DEN - “Illusion”
“Illusion” feels like being held by a lover; it’s supple and luminous as DEN builds the track from warm air. His hushed voice swirls alongside the expansive drafts and cooed echoes, its fragility grounded by cushions of drums.
44. Ice - “Strawberry Love”
The Singaporean rapper floats over the beat’s varying patterns: from thumping house to billowing electronic flurry, and finally, the triplet kicks of Jersey club. He offers a sweetly innocent take on club rap, using pitch-shifted vocals in place of bed springs, a myriad of strawberry-related references, and a final request to be your unlucky duck.
43. Default - “家的故事”
Grief and gratitude intertwine on the airy “家的故事” (“Stories of the Family”). In soft, wispy coos, delicately picked guitar, and warm brass exhales, Default find the sharp yet wondrous nature of penetrating line.
42. Kenji Wu - “Time Machine”
Bursting forth with a bobbing keyboard riff out of early ‘10s neo-psychedelia fuzz, Wu walks you through a high-velocity trip. “I want to take you to a future and a past we can’t return from,” he offers on the chorus, an all-or-nothing profession powered by kick drums and handclaps that finds the goofball grasping at whatever he can reach through the soup concoction.
41. RIKI - “Colour Blindness”
RIKI takes the well-worn concept of being blind to red flags and trods around it. He knows the difference between reality and fantasy, he’d just rather live in the latter. “Colour Blindness” employs a lazily stalled-out dembow beat for the same purpose but the singer can’t help but jump to a forced falsetto as he confronts the frustrating feeling of an undefined relationship.
40. Lu Yun - “Dizzy Me”
The peppy folk-pop of “Dizzy Me” captures the moment where feelings start to deepen. It jiggles and jostles Lu as he lets himself float over its elastic guitar melody and spring handclaps.
39. MAI - “Soufflé (feat. Dizparity)”
A puff then a pop, as the feverish charm sets ablaze over Dizparity’s deep house beat. Over the neon squiggles, MAI balances between smooth vocals and erotic spoken-word displays. “Make it wet,” he commands in his deep voice, something charged in the way he snaps the final syllable.
38. HUR - “Free (feat. Lil Bato)”
HUR tag in and out over the hopscotching beat, with member Erin delivering the most liberating performance: she body rolls as she drops a careless loser on the first verse and later makes “I realized that I’m an angel” sound like a revelation for how breathless she plays it. Yet it’s the group dynamic that gives “Free” its emotional heft, Sizi’s final “you got me motivated” is gratifying only for how she directs it towards her members.
37. YouCeHeLiu - “星际迷航: 叶问”
Space dust, then harsh guitar wails. Through the rocky turbulence of “星际迷航: 叶问” (“Star Trek: Ip Man”), the indie-rock outfit are optimistic in the face of danger. Their voices layer over one another in chaotic fashion, part robotic, part humanly anguish, their percussion bangs like crashing into an asteroid field, and the electronic bleeps are like warning signals—still they charge forward, offering themselves as the courageous protagonists.
36. KL & REX - “知道你想讓所有人開心”
It’s the feeling of being seen when KL kicks off the first verse to the ambient glassiness of “知道你想讓所有人開心” (“Know You Want to Make Everyone Happy”). Later, as he unfurls his own insecurities over the pounding kick drum and the weaving Afrobeats percussion, it’s the feeling of truly being understood.
35. Sabrina - “Cloudy Love”
Over pristine nu-disco, Sabrina explores the messiness of wanting more: first, a prolonged extension to a one-night stand, even if it is unsteady; then, during the slurred standstill, all-or-nothing devotion that leaves her suspended.
34. Easy Weeds - “How to Be a Boy”
There’s no instruction manual on aging, so between circular guitar riffs, Easy Weeds learn to grow confident in their own answer. “I’ll tell myself how to be a boy,” the band’s vocalist confidently declares, choosing his path rather than searching for some non-existent answer.
33. Shi Xinwenyue - “Hustler Wang, A Li Li”
The outside world, represented by electronic ambience and recorded conversation, settles there as a dreamlike backdrop, while a hypnotic snake charmer melody sits at the foreground of the musician’s ambition. Sketching a character biography that mirrors Shi’s own rise, he blithely chronicles the daily survival of an aspiring DJ.
32. Sue - “圆”
“圆” (“Circle”) runs in turbulent motion: Sue’s voice unspools in choppy rhythms, while the drums are lopsidedly arranged. “The circle’s mission is to heal all pain,” she buzzes on the chorus over magnificent strings. As she expands the world of “圆,” Sue draws to a complete, peaceful whole.
31. Ken Deng - “Sunbaby (feat. Valerie Lin)”
Deng’s funk is genuinely euphoric, lined with chunky synths, a hefty bassline, and enthusiastic cheers. His indoor party serves to make the most of a rainy day—nothing feels lost, especially when it dips into the back room with a bossa nova groove, the atmosphere shifting humid as he whispers coolly in your ear.
30. PG One - “NO CAP”
Despite being blacklisted from Chinese entertainment after a series of scandals, PG One doesn’t kowtow to their values on “NO CAP,” but instead, pushes his spitfire delivery even harder. He drops down to a whisper to tear apart the current state of China’s rap scene and rightfully so: on a single verse, the rapper’s animated flow easily outclasses its most popular rank.
29. FiFi Zhang - “Nobody”
On “Nobody,” Zhang attempts to persuade herself not to make the call. Over the dampened house beat, adorned with blocky synths and glassy ambience, the New York-based artist mewls in soft, soothing tones. “You say you love yourself like nobody,” she sings to the mirror, but succumbs to the lonelinesf of another insomnia-laden midnight as she drops a “come over” voicemail into its dark depth.
28. PO8 - “Umbrella (feat. J-Fever)”
At your most joyous, the neighbourhood seems to answer you. A flute is like the swirl of crisp leaves in the wind, a singing synth is like joy carried through the air. PO8 is the optimist, strolling over the autumnal production until the senior J-Fever arrives, a dark cloud, a heavy realist. One brings hope and comfort, the other brings the strength to move onward.
27. Diana Wang - “Somebody Else”
Pathetically selfless, Wang is the stopover awaiting her replacement on “Somebody Else” a tenderhearted ballad that pair warm country arrangement with pop acrobatics, the whistle notes of its final third conveying the pain and generosity of Wang giving a lover up to the world.
26. jiafeng - “dice life”
jiafeng leaves everything up to fate on the mutated alt-rock track—one decision over six choices that range from chaotic (“throw my phone away to escape the twenty-first century”) to innocuous (“no longer fear the ordinary, pass an exam, get a job, and attend a team-building dinner”) is cast over grungy guitar distortion and berserk breakbeats that draw from the musician’s own reckless nature.
25. BlinkSoBLue - “Moon Angel”
Atmosphere is at the forefront of BlinkSoBLue’s music; the piano and drum reverberate in empty air until they dissolve into it. “Moon Angel” is the singer’s most gorgeous offering, an embrace of both the best and worst parts of yourself that spreads out like a comfortable weighted blanket.
24. No Party for Cao Dong - “Lie”
“Built a wall to keep joy out / can’t let go no matter what I say,” vocalist Wood Lin murmurs. On a track cut from their first album, the post-punk band surrender to both darkness and danceability, its satisfying drum program working to demolish that formidable defense.
23. LINION - “Black Panther”
“Black Panther” thoughtfully finds its stride, the bassist becoming playful on the chorus as he’s surrounded by flashy decoration. LINION works to gradually establish his confidence before coming alive on the outro, head held high as he moves forward on the immodest groove.
22. Your Woman Sleeps with Others - “Till We Meet at the End of Love”
Over the romantic expanse of rich strings, two whispers grow apart, seeking to detach from one another. Yet when he charges forward, she follows. The band’s jaunty guitar melody powers their rugged indie-rock, leaving the pair to settles for the bittersweet stillness of a love that’s still intense despite having changed. “Maybe it isn’t me kissing the corner of your mouth now, maybe you and him are like you and me were,” he sings, a fond, sad smile as he looks on.
21. Enno Cheng - “golden”
“Your love is golden,” Cheng sings. But it isn’t enough. She sees all the beauty of you and all the beauty of herself, yet craves to expose and feel more of that light: “I want you to touch the scab that’s been cracking under my golden skin,” she hums. As the chug of its deep strings are brought to a gentle purr, she closes nearer, her touch bright and golden.
20. LilHAO - “MA LOVE”
The Taiwanese rapper drives a sample of Justin Bieber’s innocent “Lonely” into something more carnal here. Candlelit fingersnaps morph into aggressive Jersey club kicks and squeaky bedsprings. With lines delivered with the urgency of a simple means to an end, there’s a manic sweetness to “MA LOVE.” It might be quick and dirty, but there’s no come-down in sight, the heat persisting through its quiet fade-out.
19. SOWUT - “Girlz in the Mirror (Boyz Too)”
SOWUT has become one of the most fascinating Taiwanese rappers for his ability to navigate tricky landscapes. On Shelhiel and rgry’s erratic UK Garage production, he darts across the beat, skipping across with a definitive air and melting into an autotuned ooze. He never breaks step with any of Shelhiel’s interruptions, from mesmerizing bass riffs to the sound of glass shattering. Rapping and singing with equal malleability, SOWUT elevates lyrics that appear awkward on paper, performing to keep you following every pause, curve, and switch.
18. wachi - “Outing”
Every note is performed with deliberate intention, ringing through the calm morning meditation, yet vocalist Jin Yiyi carries herself with an excited rush as she enters: “my lover and I, where should we go tomorrow?” With Jin already searching into the future, the band break out into something livelier, no longer content to let the sustained ring hold the track. Guitars turn from pensive to playful, drums grow intense and Jin lets her voice fly into a carefree howl. It’s a grandiose, psychedelic swirl, and then “Outing” dissipates back into a peaceful lull. wachi offer no answers but instill a sense of anticipation for what lies beyond the current moment.
17. Julia Wu - “the one”
“the one” sets it up with a picture-perfect cosmos over woozy disco funk before landing in another’s embrace, but Julia Wu brandishes two sources of fire: a sparky electric guitar that threatens to combust everything that reaches its vicinity, and a voice so resolutely straightforward that it dials the heat up with every breathy exhale. The temperature reaches a boiling point on the chorus: “you say that I’m the one, the one that you’ve been waiting for” Wu points back. No longer withholding, it’s a demand for more than words, a challenge for a potential partner to prove it.
16. Akini Jing - “Call Me Shadow”
On “Call Me Shadow,” Akini Jing is a stealthy killer, quietly humming taunted barbs that dissipate as soon as they arrive, while Chace’s menacing UK Bass production simulates muffled footsteps and deafening heartbeats. Her use of traditional Chinese instrumentation points to the influence of wuxia: a piercing woodwind whistle imitates the rapid movement of a blade, while the simulated guqin signals an ominous presence. As “Call Me Shadow” launches into a violent techno beat, she’s deftly escaped, faint ribbons of ghostly whispers all that remain in her stead.
15. Forsaken Autumn - “Butterfly Morning Dream”
Though the Shanghai-based dream pop band starts with the usual design of glassy ambience, its drumming arrives at something unexpected, akin to a muffled disco beat that almost makes “Butterfly Morning Dream” feel propulsive. Forsaken Autumn continue to layer more—plinky rain drop synths, crystalline shimmer—before swallowing everything in sheets of heavy guitar reverb, the beat and vocals fading from the centre. Gorgeous and inviting as the dream fades from conscious, it’s the feeling of your eyes adjusting to soft morning light.
14. 163braces - “Control”
Built like an incomplete software model of emo’s stylistic markers, “Control” melds a partly-rendered digital guitar melody with 163braces’ distorted voice. Saying the wrong thing, being too emotional—her lyrics are a scattershot world cloud of fretful anxieties and volatile concerns. As she considers her next response, it mutates, tentatively probing at a pop-rock meltdown, an irate breakbeat rhythm, and a glitch pop tempest, each weighing heavy before “Control” collapses on itself. A second stretched to a tangle of processing and emotions, it’s a peek into the Gen Z freakout.
13. otay:onii - “W.C.”
“What you have here in W.C. is the hottest excrement,” sings Brooklyn-based otay:onii in almost ceremonial fashion as she balances stereotypes of uncleanliness with ritualistic civility. It’s a false concession, one she continues to facilitate even after introducing the beat; here otay:onii layers her voice in a communal chant over the danceable track. There’s a filthiness that pervades “W.C.” with each plop, but the final sample tells you what to make of your judgement, an ultimate flush to expel the stink.
12. RoseDoggy - “Close 2 Me”
Revelling in the joyous bubbliness of its Afropop production, RoseDoggy’s head-over-heels infatuation pervades “Close 2 Me.” There’s a charming easiness to the Shanghai duo’s delivery, refreshingly devoid of any hostility. Even as they worry themselves over the concern of looking like a loser or the anxiety of failing a joke in front of their crush, each utterance of the stuttered “clo-clo-clo-close to me” is infused with adoration and sunny effervescence.
11. Lexie Liu - “delulu”
Confident and unhurried, the synths that open “delulu” are like the clack of stilettos. But Lexie Liu’s first sentence cracks the poise—she’s desperately waiting on stand-by for a text, the muted drum ‘n’ bass is uncontrollable uneasiness. Rather than feign self-assurance, Liu drops to a suppressed freak out above the shards of its electropop: “nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing, no reply I scream,” she whispers, her voice charged with obsession. Between staticky feedback signals and the whirr of computer processing pinballing across her brain, this is the sound of Liu letting you into her interior for the first time.
10. Yang Naiwen - “Ineffable (feat. Wu Bai)”
Twenty-six years on from their first collaboration, two of Taiwan’s foremost rock figures come together, not for reflection, but in celebration of something new. Forward sparks a certain kind of joy on the breezy folk strum of “Ineffable,” which relishes in the delight of changing bit by bit and the excitement of a new adventure. Her voice, textured yet warm, is supported by his quieter drawl underneath; it’s sublime when taken together. “Ineffable” trawl without force, the sparky electric guitar and hefty percussion resurfacing as Yang Naiwen and Wu Bai parade the bliss of aging on their final exultant chants.
9. Hebe Tien - “Glimpses of a Journey”
On her six-minute expansive reflection, Hebe Tien chugs across the guarded verses before taking flight no the chorus. Her lyrics are candid. “Is there any meaning for us to be together?” she ponders at one summit, not unkindly as her voice soars over a bed of muffled coos and warm, gentle steel. The twin climaxes of “Glimpses of a Journey” give equal weight to a relationship and the vocalist herself, only moments later, pondering, “how can I find my true self?” Graceful and assured as ever, Tien turns magnanimous in the finality as it billows with warmth. “Who hasn’t been addicted to love? thank you for coming into my life and accompanying my heart for a short time.” It’s a tender acknowledgement of the companionship we need to find ourselves, an embrace of those in the past as we move forward.
8. Karencici - “GO LUV URSELF”
Karencici’s become one of the strongest hook writers in Taiwan, crafting choruses perfectly engineered for living inside your brain. On her Olivia Rodrigo pop-punk-lite “GO LUV URSELF,” she writes an all-caps kiss-off to those two-faced former friends. Short and sweet, she spends the rest of the track splitting her time between savouring the scorn—the delectable way she punches the final word of “I hope you die lonely” or the way she taunts, “yeah bitch I see through that / imma get you betta watch ur back / are you scared?”—and screaming her lungs out as she rushes back into that exquisite middle finger salute.
7. DEW - “last drive”
Like unwittingly holding out on a vehicle destined to crash: the instrumental constricts, folding in on DEW—“we’re spinning in circles, we both know,” he sings, his voice gentle despite pulling taut into a choked wail. His realization arrives before the wreckage, the singer falling silent as “last drive” continues its inevitable course through the fog. A sobering end to a relationship, the air hangs heavy as the faint whistles signal the foreboding junction and the stalling clicks ease into one final, worthless apology.
6. U:NUS - “Fix Me”
On “Fix Me,” the boy group snipe back at an ex, all while delivering the best vocal performance this year. Auztin wails into a loopy groan, rejecting any notion of heartbreak while surfing on the blazing, punky guitar line; Sean Ko plays the arrogant and maniacal dirtbag as he growls through the chorus. They go for anthemic pop-rock with a sing-along chorus as an outro, but perhaps its most important element is how the remaining members of U:NUS act as sturdy counterweights. Smooth and playful, C.Y and Guei perforate the bitter intensity of the chorus: “too much romantic bullshit, just let me be happy for once!” They sneer and deride but there’s a gleeful sense of jubilation at its core.
HUSH - “Pleasing Myself”
“Pleasing Myself” is a grand exercise in edging, flying hot-and-heavy as Tokyo Jihen’s Seiji Kameda layers scorching guitar riffs over a frenetic cluster of head-pounding drums. HUSH wants everything of a lover—his hot breath, to hear his name praised. He twitches and climaxes on the chorus with each declaration of the title track, reconnecting with his body as he drops from a muffled falsetto and cuts through the arrangement. That HUSH treats all of his pleasure as practice for a partner is his own arousing thrill.
4. Tizzy Bac - “Flower in Snow”
It can feel somewhat inappropriate, cruel even, to move beyond being entirely consumed by your grief and confront the realization that you in fact can live without the person you loved, or rather, continue to love. Chen Huiting reckons with that harshness on “Flower in Snow,” as she ponders a path forward for the duo, four years after the loss of bassist Xu Cheyu. They grieve here, truly and properly mourning in the gentle, motionless sorrow, but mount taller on the chorus as the explosive rush of Lin Chienyuan’s drumming and a pair of borrowed guitar and bass performances wipe the frost of Chen’s plaintive piano. Her melodies are sprightly despite her bargaining and the tempo change feels like a way to reclaim ownership. “It’s absurd to say that two frozen hearts can keep one another warm,” she concedes at the bottom of the second verse, shortly after acknowledging all that’s lost. Coming back to the chorus feels like making the decision to move forward rather than continue to suffer—in spite of how cruel or difficult the choice may be—to bandage a beating heart while continuing to love.
3. Leah Dou - “Monday (feat. Lionman)”
True infatuation is where the present and future aren’t enough, where if you could, you’d rewrite the past to include your new partner. Leah Dou is giddy on “Monday” as she reimagines what could have been, a tossed-aside reference to Jay Chou’s Fantasy on .mp3 in a low, conversational hum between happiness and the thought of her latest affection. She and Lionman bridge eras here, combining sunny bitpop with nostalgic turntable scratches. As she turns her focus to the present, the chorus can’t contain her excitement—she floats over its promise of devotion to land on cheery shouts of her present plans: “let’s drink tangerine soda! I want a romantic date with you!” It’s the kind of dizziness that comes from trying to remain composed in the face of your new love.
2. babyMINT - “hellokittybalahcurrihellokitty美味しい”
babyMINT revealed themselves to be off-beat weirdos early on during their NEXT GIRLZ run. Much of the driving force was producer A.F—a.k.a. DJ IKEA a.k.a DJ Banana Hammock, etc.—but the nine-member group proved to be game for whatever he threw at them: for their first stage, they sang like they were tipsy over his Brazilian funk beat; a stage later they were cursed dolls whining in needy tones over drum ‘n’ bass as they riffed on their predecessor labelmates, S.H.E. A.F is smart, not just about playing it weird, but playing it weird for idols, adhering to the show while throwing curveball twists. The 2-step groove of “Ocean Bomb” immediately recalls NewJeans before shifting into something delightfully weird on the second verse when standout member LinLin raps about “SpongeBob on her back.”
Maybe the most impressive A.F ever got was with the babyMINT’s finale performance, “2023: BBMeme Odyssey,” an elaborate track that learns from the Japanese underground idol scene and from MIXX pop. There’s a sample of the score from 2001: A Space Voyage, then babyMINT in trios, jumping from Japanese idol imitation to industrial sludge à la NCT, then Disney-esque belting before the group erupts in screams. But the most captivating track babyMINT ever unleashed was “hellokittybalahcurrihellokitty美味しい,” a burst of mania that first captured all of the group’s charm. It’s instructional yet nonsensical, cute yet aggressive, existential yet clearly enjoying everything life has to offer. Each section feels instantly primed for memeability—the tossed aside “shut up beee!” the hook that speeds up, its rave breakdown—yet none of that reduces how impressive each feels. LinLin goes fast and unfettered on her verse; each member runs through the heart-racing double-time without breaking a sweat. A.F runs them through hoops, from sweet cutesy bitpop to the violent drum ‘n’ bass, peaking with a jungle section that’s combined with endearing choreography inspired by wotagei. “I will die, you will die, baby, what a life, what a life,” babyMINT promise. With their final absurdist screams of “drink curry, eat boba” and A.F’s shapeshifting production, this is a grandiose embrace of the weird. It’s an all-caps delivery of their promise of a new era, of their promise to go for life’s fullest.
1. drogas - “蝴蝶”
Perhaps no artist has defined the spirit of the past three years like drogas, whose sound is a head rush comprised of hyperactive, glitchy synths and depressive blankets of atmosphere, whose voice manifests as a blurred product of being an Internet avatar, and whose lyrics capture the infinite pain of being Gen Z as he reckons with self-loathing and longing for belonging. His previous work has languished in this space: singles from the last two years with labelmate Losty each grovelled for a second chance and begged for death; “shinigami” was a flurry of sketched-out instrumental melodies and bitter malaise by way of fragmented lyrics that put him directly in the lineage of American singer-producer brakence; and “trying to go out” was the response of an Internet-addled now-adult attempting to adjust to a post-lockdown world.
So what comes next? drogas explored one option with the shoegaze-by-way-of-yeule track “愛我, 好嗎?” (“Love Me, Okay?”), where he again begs: “please kill me tonight.” But the other, more considerate option comes in “蝴蝶” (“Butterfly”), a track that promises forward. It’s gradual and it’s clumsy; his voice is still processed to oblivion and his lyrics are still filled with the same sense of self-loathing, but drogas pushes on: “I hear the reaper is running / I just try not to let him out,” he sings in an agonized wail. He layers a 2-step beat over the distorted acoustic instruments, and moves in a way that’s supported only by its graceless stagger. Messy and self-deprecating, he forces a sliver of optimism: “I’m professional,” he calls in that sing-song autotuned drone, “I specialize in wound management.” Not without backsliding, there’s an unsurprising moment on “蝴蝶” where that shit does still hit him, when he’s met with a wall and the supporting beat drops of the track.
So we return to this torturous cycle of trying to climb out of a depressive spiral, where one mistaken move sets you falling off the steps, where a reminder of your ex makes you want to renounce your capacity to love, where reflection makes you feel like you deserve all of the bad and none of the good. Yet you push. You stop listening to sad songs all the time, you stop holding yourself to useless. Call it… call it growth, call it maturation. That’s what it is when drogas sings in a quiet and low hum “please don’t regard the scars on my body with disdain, it’s the reason why I’m here”—a plaintive reflection that owns his past pain without holding himself to it. “蝴蝶” revives just to sputter. But that’s progress. drogas clings to the idea of trying. That’s enough. That’s how you move forward.
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