Every week, we update our Best New Songs playlist with several tracks that catch our attention, then round up the best songs of each month in this segment. Here, in alphabetical order, are the best songs of September 2026.
Fine – ‘Everything in the shade’
Hushed and minimal as it is, ‘Everything in the Shade’ is nothing if not steadfast in its expression of love. What Fine Glindvad blurs on the deceptively simple first single from Jazz dreams are the markers around it: “This is promise, not a lie,” goes its chorus, but what is the promise exactly? Besides “to be the rain on the hill,” the answer is open to the imagination. The Danish singer-songwriter thanks her lover for “our time,” but there are no tangible signs of temporality here; “I’m here,” she proclaims, while unburdening herself from any sense of place. It’s less hazy than the delicate tunes on 2024’s Rocky Top Ballads, but still, Glindvad seems to manifest her presence in the form of a protective spell, buttressed by gentle piano, viscous bass and drums, and an impossibly smooth guitar solo.
Julia Jacklin – ‘If I Had the Hand of God’
On ‘If I Had the Hand of God’, the fantasy of divine power doesn’t involve curing disease, resurrecting the dead, or splitting the Earth into two. Julia Jacklin doesn’t yearn for superhuman strength – only the kind that others of her species seem to naturally possess, like the guts to “take a breath and call my dad” or understanding when to let a partner go. Musically, the song doesn’t assume some dramatic, Almighty form; its ambling groove has the feel of strolling around with a tightened fist. The chorus allows Jacklin’s voice to soar, a subtle dynamic shift that seems to bring her closer to the heavens. When it simmers back down, you might feel a little more relaxed.
Lily Konigsberg – ‘Free Byrd’
You may know Lily Konigsberg as a member of the art-punk band Palberta or from her solo records, but the arrival of ‘Free Byrd’ – her first release in four years – invites comparisons to her former collaborator, Water From Your Eyes/This Is Lorelei’s Nate Amos. Until not so long ago, Amos’ second most identifiable project was My Idea, his duo with Konigsberg, but know he’s probably best known as This Is Lorelei, having put out his cleanest and brightest LP a few weeks before Konigsberg’s return. ‘Free Byrd’, too, is leaner and catchier than anything in the songwriter’s discography, and no less direct in its lyrics: “I’ve been meaning to say/ I know that you want me but I’m going away.” The feeling she’s describing is, of course, timelessly bittersweet, but the song itself is too infectious to overlook.
Perfume Genius – ‘Natural High’
Two years ago, we named Fashion Club‘s A Love You Cannot Shake our Album of the Year, and its Perfume Genius duet ‘Forget’ was its indisputable highlight. Now, Fashion Club’s Pascal Stevenson is credited as a producer on ‘Natural High’, the fantastic first preview of Mike Hadreas’ latest project, a collaborative music and dance work between him and choreographer Kate Wallich. Unspooling over six minutes, the track doesn’t rely on Hadreas’ usual recipe of catharsis: majestic melodies crossed with glorious dissonance. Instead, it swims in a pool of transcendence (“Totally wired/ I’m untied, clear eyed”) – before making its perfectly timed transition to a dance workout, where the natural high translates, vocally, to Hadreas’ resplendent falsetto. “Scenes can shift immediately just because I feel like it,” he remarked in press materials, and the one that marks ‘Natural High’ is pure, brilliant instinct.
Sophia Stel – ‘I Do’
the greatest album of all time is imminent. That’s the tongue-in-cheek title of Sophia Stel’s debut album, which arrives mid-October, but with ‘I Do’, the Vancouver electronic artist has a case for at least one of the most quietly infectious songs of 2026. Suspended in a state of nocturnal reverie, the track finds the singer so infatuated she’s “wondering about a ring,” trying to counter accusations of cold-heartedness with a warm, straightforward pop tune. By the end, Stel recognizes her own delusions of grandeur, accentuating her loneliness. Still, she goes out with another powerful declaration, lowercase as it may sound: “Let’s stay awake til we’re on fire.”
The War on Drugs – ‘Who’s That’
Two verses. That’s how long it takes for the War on Drugs’ first song in four years to start getting truly existential: “Where do I belong?/ Will it change with time?” Adam Granduciel wonders, suddenly broad questions in a tapestry of poetic metaphors. Maybe it’s his unguarded self speaking, or maybe it’s his only his depression, baby. Throughout the song, Granduciel finds a dozen ways to personify it, the unknowable force that keeps creeping up with torrents of doubt. “I keep moving to the inside,” he sings, yet the band makes his internal world sound as vast and beautiful as any cosmic landscape.
