Is the “song of the summer” dead? I cannot be the arbiter of truth on that one, but it feels like it may be on its deathbed. Or maybe, it’s reinventing itself to better appeal to the world we live in, not unlike many of the artists who have held the title. 

This relic of the mostly dissolved monoculture sticks around in the minds of record executives, people subjected to the once-ubiquitous Z100 and seemingly, newspaper columnists. It, like the NBC Thursday line-up or the dELiA*s catalog, united us culturally while making sure to do the most American thing of all: sell us something.

Which is not to say that there isn’t genuine enjoyment from a song of the summer. Of course you liked “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s a fun little bop. And then you heard it a million times and maybe it got grating. But it was made and marketed that way, for the average person to enjoy (and therefore be easy to play in Old Navy). It’s called pop music because it’s popular.

We don’t all watch “Will and Grace” on Thursday night (or maybe ever, because Debra Messing’s Islamophobic, unhinged Instagram posting is unconscionable). And we no longer find our favorites through the new arrivals stacks at the Sam Goody in Lloyd Center (R.I.P.). We hear a song on TikTok (or Instagram Reels if you’re a millennial, or YouTube Shorts if you have a time limit on your Instagram) and it sticks with us. Maybe we listen to it a couple, or a couple hundred, times. But it doesn’t always mean the song sticks in the same way it used to. Songs we like but maybe don’t love last for moments, not seasons.

So I think the song of summer has fractured from the cultural to the individual. My song may not be yours and I may not even have heard of yours. Just like a lot of things in our society, the all-powerful and inscrutable algorithm serves each of us differently, offering more tailored recommendations for the small price of our personal data. The internet has changed us in a way that feels like both the final boss of rugged American individualism and maybe an opportunity to explore our more niche tastes.

If you are still not convinced, fear not. I have compiled the storied history of the summer jam, solicited feedback from the general public and will reveal THE definitive song of the summer.

We didn’t start the fire

The song of the summer is a child of the radio, but its origins start with sheet music sales. 

Before we could turn a dial or open a music app to find the hits of today, a person would have to purchase the sheet music to play themself. This industry was bolstered by the formation of Tin Pan Alley, a commercial publishing district in Manhattan that shortened the lifecycle of a song’s popularity from a couple of years to a couple of months by pumping out more songs with a national reach faster than ever before. Paired with the rise of the phonograph in the 1870s, that meant music was more available than ever. By 1907, the Washington Post estimated the music industry was producing around 6,000 songs a year.

It’s in the 1910s that we start to see reference to the beginnings of a “song of the summer.” In 1910, the New York Tribune made predictions on what that summer’s song would be (which they thought would include Teddy Roosevelt or Haley’s Comet) and reminisced on the summer hits of 1909 (which included “My Wife’s Gone to the Country! Hooray! Hooray!” and a song asking that eternal question, “Where Did You Get That Hat?”) 

In the 1920s, the invention of radio and the founding of CBS and NBC accelerated the proliferation of the popular song into the larger culture. The New York Times wrote about the 1923 hit of summer “Yes, We Have No Bananas,” which sold a million copies in three months (despite mixed reviews). 

In 1940, Billboard released its first chart, standardizing how we track the most popular records. This set the scene for the golden age of the song of the summer. 

The 1950s and 1960s were the perfect time for the concept. After World War II, the teenager was more powerful than ever, with more time, more freedom and of course, more money. For teens living through the postwar boom, the quintessential summer song makes sense: a carefree, upbeat tune that reflects the vibes of the warmer months. Defining songs from this era included “California Girls” by the Beach Boys, “Dancing in the Streets” by Martha and the Vandellas and “Hot Fun in the Summertime” by Sly and the Family Stone. 

And those songs were ubiquitous. A carousel of the same songs played on the radio, which would be reflected in the charts, which would determine the songs everyone would be talking about.

The song of the summer was a tradition for decades. But it really solidified as a nameable concept in the 1990s. In New York Magazine’s 1995 “Summer Fun” issue, Mim Udovitch dedicated an article to the summer song. While I appreciated the nod to my beloved 1990s jam, Naughty by Nature’s “O.P.P.”, the probably more relevant piece of this article set three benchmarks for a song of the summer: 1. It must be released in the summer, 2. It must be a complete work but “still (be) easily summarizable at the length of a t-shirt slogan,” and 3. It must stick in your head and live there as a portal to the summer you first heard it.

In 2010, Billboard launched “Songs of the Summer.” The chart compiles the most popular songs of the season, based on airplay, sales and streams. And at the 2013 MTV Video Music Awards, the One Direction song “Best Song Ever” won the first ever award in the category “Song of Summer.” But the internet, cable and music streaming started to splinter the power and perception of the summer song. In 2016, the Washington Post declared “there is no song of the summer.” Vulture agreed that “the song of the summer is dead.” And since then, various publications and figures have attempted to crown a dominant summer jam, which different corners of the internet responded to with confusion and outrage.

You can tell everybody, this is your song

Being an intrepid data scientist (or art director with a background in qualitative data collection, if you want to be pedantic) and beloved man of the people, I went to the public to ask for opinions. 

And 46 people responded. Which for scientific purposes, may be lackluster, but for a publicly available, low-stakes qualitative survey, is pretty good (If you saw the link and didn’t respond, I don’t forgive you.)

This survey had three questions: 

  • What is your 2026 song of the summer?
  • What is your all-time song of the summer?
  • Which of these elements are important to a song of the summer for you?

Y’all gave a huge variety of responses. Across genres, vibes and time periods, your songs of the summer reinforce the idea that no one song has caught the imagination of the public this summer. For perspective, the most mentioned artist is Slayyyter and she was only mentioned three times. Other responses included current pop hitmakers like Olivia Rodrigo, Bad Bunny and Sabrina Carpenter, indie darlings like MUNA and Camera Obscura and a whole bunch of songs that I have never heard of (thanks for the recs!).

It seems that New York Magazine was correct in their assessment, because our readers said the top elements that make a song of the summer are: it’s upbeat, singable and memorable. A significant number of you also said that while not as important, you value a summer song that reflects the current moment. As one of you wrote, a song of the summer should be “Something that makes you forget about the crushing weight of the world.” 

I also asked if you had any other comments about songs of the summer and y’all delivered. One of you told me that a song of the summer has to have “swag factor.” Another said, “It’s better if it’s gay.” (I agree with both of these points.) One reader said it’s only a summer jam if it “makes me shake my ass” (also valid).

Some of you wanted to capture the ephemeral nature of a song of the summer. According to one respondent, “A good song of the summer should feel like laying out at the river and getting just a little too hot.” To another, “There’s a floating quality to the summer songs I like. They feel like dipping your toes into a pool of cool water during a heat wave. I like a wall of sound that replicates the haziness of summer.” A third respondent added, “Honestly I love when a song sounds SWEATY idk how else to describe it. It’s both about dance ability but also about a song that makes being in the heat feel, not just more tolerable, but fitting.” 

With such a history and such thoughtful responses, the question remains: What is the song of the summer? Can we truly determine such an overarching theme for this season when we are all living such different and complex lives? Who actually has the right to make such a determination?

I do. And I am proud to announce that for the 25th year in a row, the song of the summer is “All For You” by Janet Jackson (please clap).