• BI's music reporter ranked the 20 best songs of 2024.
• Charli XCX, Chappell Roan, Doechii, Kendrick Lamar, and Raye round out the top five.
• Listen to the complete ranking on Business Insider's Spotify.

The defining songs of 2024 ran the gamut in every conceivable way: from vicious diss tracks to sapphic heartbreak anthems, from folksy indie gems to club-friendly bangers, from breakout hits by up-and-comers to chart-toppers by pop stars.

All that (and all the best stuff in between) is cataloged below. However, it may surprise you not to find Beyoncé, Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, or other titans on this list; like last year, I've made the conscious choice to avoid overlap with my best albums ranking, in order to honor a wider array of music.

Thus, the songs that made the cut are either runaway smash hits (think Shaboozey, Kendrick Lamar, and Chappell Roan) or standout gems in their respective tracklists.

Keep reading to see my 20 top picks, ranked in ascending order.

20. "A Bar Song (Tipsy)" by Shaboozey

When a song resonates so broadly and intensely that it becomes the longest-reigning No. 1 hit in Billboard Hot 100 history, a music critic needs to pay attention. Thankfully, "A Bar Song (Tipsy)" is well worth the focus.

Shaboozey's breakout hit came on the heels of his star-making turn in "Cowboy Carter," an album that knows the value of an unpredictable, well-placed sample. Shaboozey used that strategy to great effect, flipping J-Kwon's 2004 club hit "Tipsy" into a heady pub chant. It was a Beyoncé-level stroke of genius; the hook has shown to transcend both genre and generation.

If you like this, listen to: "Anabelle," "My Fault (feat. Noah Cyrus)," "Vegas"

19. "You Need Me Now?" by girl in red featuring Sabrina Carpenter

Just one month before Sabrina Carpenter released "Espresso" and commenced her plan for world domination, she stole the show in "You Need Me Now?" with a cheeky fourth-wall break.

Carpenter presumably crossed paths with Marie Ulven, aka girl in red, the darling of sapphic bedroom pop, while they were both booked as openers for the Eras Tour. At first glance, this feels like an unlikely team-up — but Carpenter's polished vocal shimmer is the perfect foil for Ulven's grittier vibe.

"You Need Me Now?" was released as the third single from Ulven's sophomore album as girl in red, "I'm Doing It Again Baby!" Her unrelenting, feisty tone recalls the fan-favorite track "Serotonin," while the lyrics reveal a scathing kiss-off to an ex, which turns out to be Carpenter's specialty.

"You know what would be really fucking cool on this? Sabrina," Ulven declares in the bridge, turning a solidly good indie-rock song into a lively, interactive experience. Now that Carpenter is as famous as she is, Ulven's epiphany feels slightly prophetic — and Carpenter's enthusiasm is even more delightful.

"Oh my god, you're so right!" Carpenter cuts in, eager and prepared for her moment. "I'm gonna sing now."

If you like this, listen to: "Too Much," "Phantom Pain," "New Love"

18. "Care" by Hana Vu

Hana Vu is only in her early 20s, and she already has a timeless song under her belt.

The Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter is truly of the millennium (she was born in 2000, making her the same age as Ice Spice and Reneé Rapp), and yet, her single "Care" is not mired in trends or modern touchstones. (Sure, there's a thinly veiled jab at consumerism, but it's not like Gen Z invented existential ire toward the status quo.)

This isn't the case for all of Vu's music; in 2019, she named her EP "Nicole Kidman/Anne Hathaway" after her two favorite actors. But "Care" is an extra special song, anchored by Vu's lush melodies, soulful delivery, and ever-relevant ruminations — about what it means to be human, to love, to hope, and to "find it all too much."

If you like this, listen to: "Hammer," "Dreams," "Find Me Under Wilted Trees"

17. "The Baton" by Katie Gavin

Katie Gavin is known as the lead singer of MUNA, but in her debut solo album, "What a Relief," she strips away much of the band's arena-sized bravado to make room for more intimate meditations.

"The Baton" is Gavin's masterpiece: stark, folksy, and acutely compassionate. The song pays homage to her mother, who guided Gavin's growth, and the hazy silhouette of her future daughter, for whom she'll follow her mother's example.

"I'd pass her the baton and I'd say you better run / 'Cause this thing has been going / For many generations," she sings, suggesting an optimistic inversion of Fiona Apple's "Relay." Still, Gavin's lens is not entirely rosy: "There is so much healing / That still needs to be done."

Unfortunately, "The Baton" hits way harder post election, now that women and queer people across the US are getting ready to fight for control over their own bodies — and, ideally in doing so, to protect future generations from having to do the same.

If you like this, listen to: "As Good As It Gets," "Sanitized," "Sparrow"

16. "Conocerla" by Reyna Tropical

Earlier this year, acting on little beyond a gut feeling, I was lucky enough to catch Fabi Reyna, aka Reyna Tropical, perform in Brooklyn. I found myself hypnotized by her organic production style, her seamless weave of multicultural traditions (Reyna was raised between Mexico, Texas, and Oregon), her tender embrace of queer themes, and, most of all, by "Conocerla."

Now, whenever I return to this song, I have a hard time putting my finger on what it is I love so much — but I always have the same recurring, insufficient thought: "This is the coolest thing I've ever heard."

Luckily, for Reyna, that instinctive pleasure is the whole point. She told Paper that "Conocerla" is about "personal exploration" and creating a space to nurture emotion, not logic. "Through art and music," Reyna explained, "we can hold more than we realize when we don't rely solely on our minds."

If you like this, listen to: "Cartagena," "Lo Siento," "Conexión Ancestral"

15. "In the Night" by Childish Gambino featuring Jorja Smith and Amaarae

Donald Glover's final release as Childish Gambino, "Bando Stone and the New World," is an apocalyptic concept album that follows his character, also a musician, while he navigates doomsday on a remote island.

"Bando Stone" is presented as a holistic body of work, but as with many survival epics, the hero is better off with some company. The album hits its peak when Glover is joined by Jorja Smith and Amaarae for "In the Night," which soundtracks a humid, nocturnal love affair. The women strike conspiratorial tones, singing about lustful dreams and illicit rendezvous; the mini-drama seems immaterial to the end of the world, but it succeeds in infusing the saga with fresh textures and intrigue.

If you like this, listen to: "Lithonia," "Talk My Shit (feat. Amaarae & Flo Milli)," "Running Around (feat. Fousheé)"

14. "We Can't Be Friends (Wait for Your Love)" by Ariana Grande

Immediately upon the release of "Eternal Sunshine," Ariana Grande's sixth studio album, "We Can't Be Friends (Wait for Your Love)" became the runaway favorite across the board. Fans sent it straight to No. 1 on the Hot 100. Keith Urban called it "audible heroin." Many critics (including myself) compared the sparkling synths and propulsive rhythm to Robyn's "Dancing on My Own," a compliment of the highest order among pop nerds. (Max Martin, who produced much of "Eternal Sunshine," has also worked with Robyn. The pair earned two top-10 hits in 1997.)

"We Can't Be Friends" is patently a reaction to Grande's recent divorce, but subtextually, it confronts the inevitable public fallout — that is, the stigma of being a famous woman with a string of romantic missteps. Still, at least in song, Grande can emerge from the fray with her ecstatic falsetto, unashamed and resilient as ever. "Know that you made me / I don't like how you paint me," she insists, "yet I'm still here hanging."

If you like this, listen to: "Don't Wanna Break Up Again," "Eternal Sunshine," "I Wish I Hated You"

13. "Don't Forget Me" by Maggie Rogers

Maggie Rogers has always been an exceptional producer, as evidenced by her famous Pharrell critique (or, more accurately, his lack of critique) that catapulted her from NYU student to indie darling.

In her underappreciated sophomore album "Surrender," Rogers pivoted from folk-electronica to a more organic rock sound as she came into her own as a vocalist. "I learned how to use my lower register," she told The New York Times, "to just sing with my whole body."

When it came time to record her third studio album, "Don't Forget Me," Rogers was already equipped with these polished-up skills. This time, it's her songwriting that comes into clearer focus, totally shorn of self-doubt and pretense.

This is especially true of the title track, in which every word has been chosen with keen precision. Throughout each verse and chorus, Rogers paints miniature portraits of Sally (a vision of domestic bliss), Molly (a besotted portent of mediocre love), and herself (an autonomous woman with a lust for emotional heirlooms).

As Rogers explained in her email newsletter, some of these details were invented for the song. "Pen to paper. Fully formed. There they were," she wrote. But that doesn't make them feel any less lifelike: "I think in this way, some of the deepest truths about my present were able to come forward."

If you like this, listen to: "The Kill," "If Now Was Then," "On & On & On"

12. "Common Man" by Grace Cummings

Grace Cummings makes music as though she's building a bridge between the old and the new. Her album "Ramona" is vivid and nostalgic, saturated with hues of old-school blues, yet dauntless in a distinctly modern way — the kind of music that a Gen X dad and Gen Z daughter could play on a roadtrip and equally enjoy.

The centerpiece is "Common Man," which juxtaposes vintage instrumentation and familiar pastoral imagery (thunder booming overhead, a sunrise on the horizon) with Cummings' singular, androgynous, anything-but-predictable voice.

Even in this wide-open landscape, her belting easily swells to fill the space. So when Cummings delivers the song's thesis, "I can't stand to be the common man," it's no challenge to believe her.

If you like this, listen to: "On and On," "A Precious Thing," "Help Is On Its Way"

11. "Too Sweet" by Hozier

"Too Sweet" is Hozier's highest-charting song ever on the Hot 100, which is kind of a miracle, since he didn't even bother to include it on his latest full-length album, 2023's "Unreal Unearth."

Thankfully, "Too Sweet" didn't get buried forever. It was released seven months later on the EP "Unheard," a brief collection of songs from the "Unreal Unearth" sessions that Hozier had scrapped "for different reasons."

Perhaps Hozier felt the song was too radiant and playful — or, ahem, too sweet — for the album's conceptual journey through the nine circles of hell. That could explain it, although the narrator is certainly at risk of being punished for gluttony (he has a whiskey habit and a 3 a.m. bedtime, so I'm assuming he's not a fan of moderation). Or perhaps Hozier sensed that he had a smash hit on his hands, and didn't want it to overshadow the rest of the project, like "Take Me to Church" did with his debut.

We may never know his reasons for unleashing "Too Sweet" when he did. We can only be grateful that he did it at all — and maybe consider this a learning experience. As his career trajectory has proven, he's a more patient man than most, and something this sweet is worth the wait.

If you like this, listen to: "Nobody's Soldier," "July," "Fare Well"

10. "Soup" by Remi Wolf

"Soup," the second track and fifth single from Remi Wolf's "Big Ideas," is a shining example of an earworm done right. Backed by Tame Impala-esque guitar riffs and bright '80s synths, Wolf delivers a series of airtight melodies and just the right amount of quirk.

Like all the greatest top-40 bops, the chorus is ideal for screaming in the car — yet there's no risk of tedium or replay-induced headaches. "Soup" can be played on a loop and Wolf's songcraft stays fresh.

If you like this, listen to: "Cinderella," "Toro," "Alone in Miami"

9. "Obsessed" by Olivia Rodrigo

As with the two singles from "Guts" that preceded it ("Bad Idea Right?" and "Get Him Back!"), I remain aghast that "Obsessed" wasn't a No. 1 hit.

Olivia Rodrigo is at her best when she's a little punk, a little rock, and completely unhinged — and this "Guts (Spilled)" deluxe track about developing a fetish for her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend ("I know her star sign, I know her blood type") may be the most loosely hinged track in her entire catalog.

In polite society, it's rare that women are allowed to express the full spectrum of emotion — rage, envy, lust, self-loathing, and, of course, obsession — without getting labeled crazy. Rodrigo actively bucks against that sexist custom with her songwriting, flinging herself into the deepest trenches of her psyche and emerging even stronger. In her capable hands, "I can't help it, I've got issues" becomes less of a confession and more of a rallying cry.

If you like this, listen to: "So American"

8. "Starburster" by Fontaines D.C.

I tuned in to Fontaines D.C. last fall, when I saw them open for the Arctic Monkeys' The Car Tour. The Irish band had already released three albums and won a Brit Award, but it still felt like they were on the cusp of greatness, like they were building toward a true breakthrough.

That catalyst arrived seven months later with "Starbuster," the celebrated lead single from their new album, "Romance." The song is punchy and cinematic, like Kasabian's "L.S.F." meets Gorillaz's "Dare" meets the atmospheric, suburban angst of "Skins" (the original UK series, not the busted US version). But despite its traceable lineage, "Starburster" is no mere imitation; it synthesizes its post-punk and rap-rock influences to craft something new.

If you like this, listen to: "In the Modern World," "Sundowner," "Death Kink"

7. "Yeah x10" by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

In Luca Guadagnino's horny tennis drama "Challengers," the thrilling reveal of a young, headed-for-stardom Tashi Duncan ("The hottest woman I've ever seen," in the words of Patrick Zweig) is set to the equally thrilling thumps of "Yeah x10."

The aptly named song is the highlight of the movie's soundtrack, created by Nine Inch Nails maestros Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. The Oscar-winning duo provides the precise mix of tension, delight, youthful awe, and "unending homoerotic desire" that's needed to match the characters' churning drama.

Tashi (played by Zendaya) struts onto the court, lithe and confident, as her two future suitors (Josh O'Connor as Patrick and Mike Faist as Art) revel in their shared surge of desire. The scene-and-song combo kicks off a riveting chain of events that dominated cinephile discourse this year. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," indeed.

If you like this, listen to: "I Know," "The Signal," "Challengers: Match Point"

6. "Eusexua" by FKA twigs

In 2022, FKA twigs launched a new era of pleasure with "Caprisongs," an aura-heavy, electro-pop mixtape designed to sweat out the demons.

This year, she doubled down with "Eusexua," the lead single from her upcoming album of the same name. The twigs-invented word seems to be derived from the Greek word "euphoria," modified to reflect something more erotic, something truly ineffable. The song is an intricate choreography of techno beats and cascading synths, the exact kind of soundscape where twigs and her peculiar mystique tend to thrive.

If I had to define "Eusexua" based on how the song makes me feel, it would be "feeling present in one's body." Not the body-positive platitude of "feeling comfortable in one's skin," per se, but a sensation of full aliveness — every hair on your arms standing in salute, your heartbeat thumping in your fingertips.

If you like this, listen to: "Perfect Stranger," "Drums of Death"

5. "Genesis." by Raye

Over the summer, shortly before the release of her new single, Raye told me how she's willing to sacrifice profit for her creative vision.

"It upsets me to do a half-assed gig or to do a half-hearted thing," Raye explained. "If I was in this to make money, I wouldn't even be releasing the kind of music that I am."

"Genesis." is proof positive of that credo; the amorphous, seven-minute song is the kind of big swing that artists take after years of hard work and honing their creative vision. During the three-part odyssey, Raye unspools everything weighing on her mind, from algorithmically encouraged envy, self-loathing, and substance abuse to political causes she cares about, like universal healthcare and worker rights. It's a lot to digest in one go, but this song deserves the time and effort.

If you like this, listen to: "Oscar Winning Tears."

4. "Not Like Us" by Kendrick Lamar

The cultural impact of "Not Like Us" is self-evident. By many accounts, Kendrick Lamar was already winning in his rap beef with Drake, largely thanks to his Pulitzer Prize-winning lyrical skill. But then, Lamar did the most devastating thing he could to a chart-topping, best-selling behemoth. He dropped an absolute banger.

It takes a truly remarkable diss track to have consumers, gatekeepers, and corporations alike in a chokehold: No. 1 on the Hot 100 for two weeks; six Grammy nominations, including both record and song of the year; plus a much-anticipated performance at the Apple Music-sponsored Super Bowl in February.

Lamar may be the only artist alive who could've pulled it off — that is to say, the only rapper who's shrewd, ruthless, and respected enough to convince stuffy executives to let him call Drake a "certified lover boy, certified pedophile" on national TV.

If you like this, listen to: "Squabble Up," "Luther (with SZA)," "Heart Pt. 6"

3. "Nissan Altima" by Doechii

There was a time this summer when I couldn't go on Instagram without seeing "Nissan Altima" shared on someone's story. More recently, videos of Doechii performing the frantic first verse — in which she calls herself "the new hip-hop Madonna" and "the trap Grace Jones" — have taken over my TikTok feed.

Despite the never-ending clips, I have yet to see Doechii botch the lyrics or trip over her tongue. "Nissan Altima" puts her star power on full display; she's a formidable, top-tier rapper with a flair for eccentric phrasing.

Released as the lead single from Doechii's latest mixtape, "Alligator Bites Never Heal," this is the kind of cult-classic crowd-pleaser that, sooner or later, fans will hold up as a turning point in the artist's career.

Although "Nissan Altima" is still relatively niche and has yet to appear on the Hot 100, it has sparked an undeniable groundswell of support, even snagging a Grammy nomination for best rap performance. Don't be surprised when you start to hear Doechii's music everywhere.

If you like this, listen to: "Boiled Peanuts," "Denial is a River," "Beverly Hills"

2. "Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

This time last year, I crowned Chappell Roan's "Red Wine Supernova" as the best song of 2023.

I'm willing to bet Roan wasn't stunned by the praise; "I'm not that surprised people like it because it's really good," she told Dork at the time. But the selection did get some pushback from friends and lurkers online. Back then, Roan was little known by mainstream standards, performing for crowds of a couple thousand at most on The Midwest Princess Tour. Upon its release, "Red Wine Supernova" debuted at No. 75 on the Hot 100 — nothing to sniff at, certainly, but nothing sensational.

Now, "sensation" is just one of many suitable labels for Roan's career. She's become a main character in pop music, performing for massive crowds at music festivals and millions of viewers on network TV. Her rise to stardom has been ferociously analyzed, nitpicked, and gawked at, but as Roan said herself, it should've come as no surprise. She boasts an exceptional, magnetic talent that, once witnessed, makes it impossible to ignore or forget.

This became clearer than ever at Coachella, where Roan performed the as-yet-unreleased single "Good Luck Babe!" with the conviction of a much bigger star. A clip of her singing the bridge while staring down the barrel of the camera, eyes alight with both anguish and clarity, went viral online. There, in the desert, standing face-to-face with "I told you so," she banished every flicker of doubt.

"Good Luck Babe!" is now a top-five hit on the Hot 100, a Grammy nominee for song of the year, and the epicenter of this year's so-called "lesbian renaissance."

In retrospect, it's no wonder that Roan's watershed moment was a song that nods to her own staying power, a magic touch that lingers for a lifetime. She was right all along: You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

If you like this, listen to: Roan only released this one song in 2024, but keep an eye out for her much-teased sophomore album, expected to arrive next year.

It'll presumably feature unreleased songs "The Subway," which Roan has performed at several music festivals, and "The Giver," a sapphic Shania Twain-esque bop that Roan debuted on "Saturday Night Live."

1. "Girl, So Confusing featuring Lorde" by Charli XCX and Lorde

Charli XCX's "Brat" already earned the No. 2 slot on this year's best albums ranking — but I'm breaking my own rule, which forbids overlap on both end-of-year lists, for two reasons.

First, the "Girl, So Confusing" remix does not technically appear on the standard edition of "Brat." It was released as a single before its inclusion on the remix album, "Brat and It's Completely Different But Also Still Brat," which, as the name suggests, is a completely different thing. Second, the "Girl, So Confusing" remix is a force of nature unto itself and needs to be treated as such.

I can't remember another time there was such a consensus, from critics and fans alike, about the year's most affecting, most visceral pop song — let alone a spontaneous remix like this one.

Lorde had already heard the original "Girl, So Confusing" by the time Charli sent her a heads-up that, hey, long time no see, but there's a song about our unspoken rivalry on my album. Any Lorde fan would've expected her to respond with grace and mercy, but she went several steps further, offering a real-time resolution: "Let's work it out on the remix." She sent her entire verse over text, the same way it appears on the track, to which Charli reacted the same way everyone else did: "Fucking hell."

Cultural observers and political pundits have been asking each other all year, what makes someone or something "Brat"? Even Charli has struggled to articulate it, but of course, Lorde understood implicitly. Their public truce encapsulates the true essence and charm of the album: off-the-cuff, unedited, and vulnerable in the same way that throwing up in the club and letting a friend hold your hair back ends up bringing you closer.

If you like this, listen to: "Everything is Romantic featuring Caroline Polachek," "Apple featuring The Japanese House," "B2b featuring Tinashe"

Listen to BI's complete list of 100 best songs on Spotify.

• Raye is a 27-year-old singer and songwriter who was recently nominated for three Grammy Awards.
• While promoting her latest single "Genesis," she told Business Insider that she was "breaking even."
• "If I was in this to make money, I wouldn't even be releasing the kind of music that I am," she said.

Raye is a multi-platinum singer and three-time Grammy nominee who has worked with Beyoncé and opened for Taylor Swift on the Eras Tour. And yet, as of this summer, she said her music career still isn't making her money.

In Business Insider's new feature, "Want to make money as a pop star? Dream on," Raye opened up about balancing the books as an independent artist and sacrificing profit to serve her artistic vision.

"There's ways to make quick cash and there's ways to make a profit. And trust me when I tell you, I'm not taking those ways," Raye told me in June following a performance at the Conrad hotel in downtown Manhattan.

It was the latest stop in a series of mini-concerts across the globe, including Amsterdam, London, and Berlin, to promote her newest single, "Genesis." The price to organize and execute these shows — from travel expenses to lighting design and hiring a full band — was far from cheap, Raye said, but ultimately worth the investment.

"We're breaking even and it's beautiful," she said.

"I'm putting out a piece of music that I'm really proud of," she added, "with the roll-out plan that I wanted."

Raye, 27, was born Rachel Keen in London to a Ghanaian-Swiss mother and an English father. In 2014, she signed a four-album record deal with Polydor, who were impressed by the buzz surrounding her self-released EP, "Welcome to the Winter."

Seven years, four more EPs, and hundreds of thousands of streams later, Raye publicly accused Polydor of keeping her debut album suspended in limbo. She begged the label to take her off the shelf, saying she'd already tried everything else. "I switched genres, I worked seven days a week, ask anyone in the music game, they know," she wrote on X.

The following month, Raye announced that she'd been freed from her contract. In 2023, she released her first full-length LP as an independent artist, "My 21st Century Blues," which landed at No. 3 on BI's list of the year's best albums.

Earlier this year, Raye took home six Brit Awards, setting a record for the most wins in a single night. She's nominated for songwriter of the year, non-classical at the 2025 Grammys, and will also compete against stars like Chappell Roan and Sabrina Carpenter for best new artist. (She was also nominated for best engineered album, non-classical for her work as a producer on Lucky Daye's "Algorithm.")

In the music industry, working outside the major-label system can yield more creative control. For Raye, it has ushered in a new era of critical acclaim and commercial success.

But there are downsides, too, namely the lack of financial backing. Labels typically offer an advance as a signing incentive, though the actual dollar amount varies widely. They also tend to cover the up-front costs of recording and promoting an album — studio sessions, producers, sound engineers, photographers, stylists, and radio campaigns, to name a few — which can total $250,000 or more for pop and hip-hop artists, according to Donald Passman, a veteran music lawyer who is the author of the music-industry bible "All You Need to Know About the Music Business."

These days, touring is especially expensive, as costs for everything from bus rentals to hotel rooms to hiring a lighting technician or manning a merchandise table have ballooned.

"You're getting paid X to do Coachella, and then you spend double the amount that you got paid to do the show on the show itself, because you want to do a great show," Raye explained. "And you have to pay musicians, and the singers, and everyone what they deserve."

To find any level of success in the industry, Raye said she needs to be as much a businesswoman as she is a creative force.

Still, even when faced with the cold, hard numbers, she said that losing money is preferable to cutting corners.

"It upsets me to do a half-assed gig or to do a half-hearted thing," Raye said. "If I was in this to make money, I wouldn't even be releasing the kind of music that I am."

On a hot summer night in downtown Manhattan, Raye was exhausted and excited. The British pop singer had just finished a series of performances of her new single "Genesis" as small groups of devoted fans cycled in and out of the Conrad hotel. She'd barely stepped off the stage before a member of her team handed her a plaque to commemorate the sale of 2 million US copies of her 2022 single "Escapism."

By nearly any metric, the 27-year-old singer and songwriter is a star on the rise: 2 million Instagram followers, 27 million monthly Spotify listeners, three Grammy nominations, a single-year-record six Brit Awards, a writing credit on Beyoncé's most recent album, and coveted performance slots at Coachella, "Saturday Night Live," and Taylor Swift's Eras Tour.

But in 2024, artists who want a sustainable career can't survive on talent or even fame alone. They now have to strategically post on social media, design cost-efficient tours, and navigate the complex web of legal and financial bureaucracy necessary for their work. And oftentimes, even that's not enough to turn a profit.

"We're breaking even and it's beautiful," Raye says in one of the Conrad's many boardrooms, one hand resting casually on her plaque.

Music has always been a business, but streaming, TikTok, inflation, and the ballooning costs of touring have dramatically altered a musician's traditional routes to making money.

Even the world-famous billionaire musician Taylor Swift has acknowledged she can't focus on songwriting alone to build her career. "I'm sick and tired of having to pretend like I don't mastermind my own business," she told Rolling Stone in 2019.

"You've got this democratization of the music business where there's not the same barrier for entry. The problem is that everybody's got that access," says Donald Passman, a veteran music lawyer who is the author of the music-industry bible "All You Need to Know About the Music Business."

"The real challenge for artists now is to get yourself an audience before you go to a label, if you decide to go to a label at all," Passman adds. "You've got to do it yourself."

Or as Kevin Baird, the bassist of the Northern Irish indie rock band Two Door Cinema Club, tells me: "You have to be the CEO of your company. You have to understand what is going on in every single facet of the business."

A chart-topping hit — or 2, or 3 — isn't always a golden ticket

The formula for success in the music industry appears simple: Release a hit song, climb the charts, rake in the cash.

The reality, of course, was never that straightforward. Predatory record deals existed way back in the 1950s, when, for example, Chuck Berry was forced to split the songwriting checks from his first hit, "Maybellene," with people he'd never met. But a lot has changed since streaming usurped radio play as the kingmaker of a rising musician's career.

Streaming numbers can help a song top the charts or act as a bellwether for internet virality, boosting the artist's profile in the process. But while it's still possible to live lavishly off the back of one song, like a classic sitcom theme or a holiday staple, that's the exception, not the rule: Whether the artist actually makes money on a song depends on a myriad of factors, including complex copyright rules.

Royalty distribution — how artists and others who own copyrights get paid — is a many-headed beast, but reliable industry estimates have put Spotify's payout rate at less than half a cent per stream, while Apple Music in 2021 was said to have told artists it paid about one penny per stream.

Even the hitmakers who dominate your "For You" page are getting paid "almost nothing" from TikTok, as one music exec told Billboard. (Apple Music and TikTok didn't respond to requests for comment. A Spotify spokesperson directed me to a Q+A section on their website, which notes, "In the streaming era, fans do not pay per song, so we don't believe a 'per stream' rate is a meaningful number to analyze.")

There are perks unique to the streaming era — Two Door Cinema Club's Baird notes that it provides a level of granularity to data about listener interests and tastes that can help artists decide how to market and create music — but mostly, it's a lot of work for not a lot of payoff.

The veteran songwriter and performer Tayla Parx knows this problem acutely. In addition to her solo career, she's cowritten plenty of earworms, including two of Ariana Grande's biggest hits on the Billboard Hot 100 — "Thank U, Next" and "7 Rings" — and Panic! At the Disco's top-five hit "High Hopes."

But songwriters typically only take a small slice of the small streaming payout: Billboard reported in 2022 that, on average, songwriters could expect to earn 9.4 cents for every dollar a streaming service paid in royalties. If more than one writer is credited — "Thank U, Next" has eight — they all split it.

It's also not standard practice for songwriters to charge a base fee for their work. That means if Parx spends eight hours writing a song with a pop star, but that song ends up on the cutting-room floor, she's earned nothing for that full workday.

Parx tells me her biggest slice of income doesn't come from her work as a performer or as a Grammy-nominated lyricist. Instead, her bank account is buoyed by a shrewd investment outside the music industry.

"What I can make off of one of my rental properties from a one-month or two-month rental could pay for a whole tour," says Parx, who self-released her third studio album, "Many Moons, Many Suns," in July through her umbrella company, TaylaMade Inc. "That's very different than showing up in the music industry for work every single day for free."

Parx's experience is not uncommon. For many musicians, especially independent artists, diversifying one's income is necessary to make ends meet, whether that's getting a gig editing videos, teaching art, or stocking milk at a coffee shop.

Record labels can offer cash up front — but artists still need a solid business plan

For musicians to actually profit from their work, revenue — which includes royalties — must outweigh expenses. The problem? Recording an album can be eye-poppingly expensive.

Muni Long, a Grammy-winning R&B singer and songwriter who's also written hits for artists such as Rihanna, Kelly Clarkson, and Fifth Harmony, recently gave an interview to Apple Music 1's Nadeska Alexis in which she broke down how expensive it could be to write and record an album.

By her back-of-the-napkin estimation, which included studio costs ($1,200 per 12-hour block, plus a session engineer at $75 to $100 an hour), mixing and mastering (anywhere from $2,500 to $10,000 a song), and paying for beats (anywhere from $5,000 to $40,000), the baseline cost to record a full-length album like her 2022 breakthrough, "Public Displays of Affection: The Album" would be about $300,000.

"That eliminates 75% of the people who are aspiring," Long said. "I didn't realize how much money that it takes to actually be an artist."

Of course, these are estimates of the cost to record an album within the mainstream music industry, something artists are increasingly forgoing. But these numbers illuminate what still makes a major-label record contract so appealing: Getting cash up front gives the artist freedom to make music without worrying about the often astronomical price tag — at least not right away.

For the London-based singer-songwriter Rachel Chinouriri, signing to Parlophone/Atlas Artists in the UK was the only way she could afford to make music her full-time job.

Not having to worry about the cost of making her debut album gave Chinouriri the space to focus on the music while getting her career off the ground. She says her debut album, "What a Devastating Turn of Events," wouldn't exist in its current form, with its high-quality production and its glossy cover art, without her label's investment.

"I've never had to sit and think, 'How much has this studio session cost?' When I did my album, I don't even know how much the producers got paid — it just was done," Chinouriri says. "I don't know how I'd be able to do all of this and then have to think of the cost."

Labels typically offer an advance as a signing incentive, which they expect to recoup over time. The actual dollar amount depends on many factors — the artist's social-media following, how well their music is projected to perform, and the length of the agreement, to name a few. Some contracts offer an additional sum to record an album, which can easily total $250,000 or more for pop and hip-hop artists, per Passman.

Though Chinouriri did not share specific details of her record deal, she did say that despite tens of millions of streams on Spotify and critical acclaim, she still is being loaned money from her label and is not yet in the black. "The plan is to recoup and hope that this thing or brand that we have will eventually start bringing in profit," she explains.

But is Chinouriri's situation typical? The better question may be what a "typical" record deal even means these days.

Derek Crownover, who specializes in IP rights and other music-related assets at the law firm Loeb & Loeb, says that out of thousands of label contracts he's helped negotiate, advances have ranged from $0 (if the artist wants to keep their masters, which are the original sound recordings of their songs) to $5 million (if executives believe the artist is destined for superstardom).

"It's really all over the map," Crownover says. "A record deal right now is, 'We're going to write out a business and marketing plan for this artist, and we need funding for it.'"

Without a good business plan, Crownover adds, good luck getting noticed: "You might be able to break through because you're sheerly talented, but that chance is getting smaller and smaller."

The alternative — working outside the major-label system — can yield more creative control, but it requires artists to compete with Goliaths.

Ten years after making her first appearance on the Billboard Hot 100 with "2 On," from her major-label debut, "Aquarius," the alternative R&B singer Tinashe reemerged this summer with "Nasty," her first bona fide hit as an independent artist.

The song's hypnotic chorus first took off as a TikTok meme, which helped it climb the charts. It also gave Tinashe's team the confidence to invest more than usual in a radio campaign and more leverage to land high-profile media placements and lucrative brand deals.

That was only the beginning.

"Even being the No. 1 song on TikTok doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things," Tinashe's longtime manager, Simonne Solitro, explains. It needs to translate to dedicated fans who will spend hard-earned cash. For Tinashe, that meant doubling down on "Nasty" with a remix EP, releasing her new album "Quantum Baby" on the heels of her hit song, and taking advantage of the buzz by embarking on a world tour.

"It's a lot of pressure, especially for her," Solitro says. "Her peers are Doja, Normani — all the big, amazing, pop-R&B girls — and they all have 70 million times larger budgets for these things and she still has that expectation for herself."

"She doesn't want the product she puts out to be like, 'Oh, yeah, that's my version of a budgeted video,'" says Solitro, who declined to estimate budget numbers. "She still wants it to be that caliber of a project."

Live shows are key to building a dedicated fan base, but many artists break even or finish tours in the red

Going on tour is a way to build a connection with fans, but it's hardly a guaranteed money-maker. Nearly all artists who aren't Taylor Swift are getting hit by the rising costs of touring.

In a market flooded with demand in the wake of the pandemic, costs for everything from bus rentals to hotel rooms to hiring a lighting technician or manning a merchandise table have ballooned. (Not to mention that venues take a cut of merchandise profits these days, too — sometimes as much as 40%).

When artists as big as Jennifer Lopez, Bad Bunny, and The Black Keys are canceling tour dates or entire tours amid reports of weak ticket sales, what hope is there for everybody else?

Tessa Violet, a Los Angeles-based singer, songwriter, and former vlogger who's been performing live for a decade, estimates she hasn't made a profit on a tour in roughly six years. "That's not just me," Violet tells me, "that's literally every single artist I know."

While fan complaints about rising ticket costs abound, Violet says very little of that sum is going to the artists. They have no input on those notorious service fees, which are split between venues and behemoth sellers like Ticketmaster and StubHub. Meanwhile, the base ticket price goes toward things like production, marketing, and booking costs. Promoters also take a cut of sales, and that's all before the crew gets paid.

Even for a signed artist like Chinouriri, the stacked costs have proved insurmountable. One month after we spoke, she canceled her planned US tour dates, citing the "financial risk it would entail."

If touring is a logistical and financial nightmare, why bother?

It goes back to Tinashe's manager Solitro's risk-reward assessment. A well-executed concert is an investment that promises to yield something every business owner wants: consumer loyalty. It can deepen the connection between performer and listener and, the performer hopes, invite new fans into the fray.

"Establishing a direct connect like that — an actual 'in real life' connection with fans — that's what gets people dedicated champions of you for the long haul," Solitro says. "They're the ones that will continually stream your music."

Violet puts it more simply: "It's the best high in the world."

Musicians must be social-media influencers, not just performers

On one hand, finding an audience for your art via social media has never been easier. On the other, it reassigns a draining and unpredictable task, promotion, to the artists.

For independent artists like Violet, building a following for your music online is a new reality that comes with the territory. "Somebody can't be a fan of something they don't know exists," Violet says.

Social media has changed the game for musicians at all levels, signed or not. The chart-topping pop star Halsey made headlines in 2022 for accusing her label, Capitol Music, of holding her new song hostage until she could manufacture a "viral moment" for its release. (Capitol later apologized and released the single in a show of support; a year later, Halsey was dropped from the label. She's since signed a new contract with Columbia.)

For Chinouriri, being on a label meant having to build and maintain an online following to show her value to label execs. "I had to put in the legwork of three to five TikToks a day for over a year just to prove that I'm worthy enough of keeping on the label," she says. Atlas Artists declined to comment.

A high-profile cosign can be a godsend in the pursuit of growing a following. Chinouriri, who's earned shout-outs from stars like Adele, Sophie Turner, and Florence Pugh, noticed a spike in her online engagement after Pugh starred in the music video for her single, "Never Need Me." The music video's announcement in January racked up more than 600,000 likes on Instagram, nearly five times Chinouriri's follower count at the time. By the end of that month, Chinouriri's monthly listener count on Spotify had grown by more than 300,000, according to data provided to BI by Chartmetric.

Chinouriri said that Pugh had freely offered her time and acting chops and that the two had become friends — a friendship that she said started when they followed each other on social media. All those posts and DMs became worth it.

Still, social-media savvy can do only so much to help you stand out amid erratic algorithms, the perpetual demands of content-hungry fans, and the crowds of other talented musicians jostling for attention.

"There are three things you need to be a successful artist," Violet says. "One, you need great art. Your art needs to be better than your influencing, so it needs to be really exceptional. Second, you have to be a salesman. And for people who are artists entering the influencer world, that's a really hard pill to swallow."

"The third thing," she adds, "is you have to be lucky."