The summer song is one of rock’s truest pleasures, be it a dance jam that dominates every backyard cookout or a sweet ode to cars, girls and partying at the beach. Here are our picks for the most sizzling summer jams ever – from unshakeable oldies to classic hip-hop, from hard-rock to indie-rock, from the Go-Gos to Daft Punk. School’s out, and it’s time to get down, get sunburned and get lucky.
A gorgeously upbeat slice of melancholy from the self-styled world's greatest bar band. The song is from 1977, but the lightly forlorn melody and ringing guitars are Sixties Top 40 heaven. Singer Al Anderson sings about a summer fling that ended so bad he thinks about his ex-girlfriend every time he gets in his car.
A celebration of California living set to some cheerily buzzing guitars: "We've got the ocean, got the babes/Got the sun, we've got the waves/This is the only place for me," Bethany Cosentino sings. When she adds, "Why would you live anywhere else," it'll make you want to pack your bags for L.A. faster than Ted Chaough.
"We're gonna build something this summer," Craig Finn sings over an all-ages moshpit riff, as he sings about what punk-rock kids in America do to beat the summertime blues – namely, drink toasts to Saint Joe Strummer on top of watertowers. The song's relentless energy and shout-along Black Flag-style backing vocals ("Get hammered!") tap timeless school's-out mania but a dark undercurrent makes it stick – "getting older makes it harder to remember," he sings. A steady diet of double whiskeys with no ice doesn't help either.
Over impossibly tasteful string and brass accents, two young British men think about summer romances come and gone in 1964 and harmonize like angels. Only 2:39 long, it is one of the great early British invasion earworms while also being one of the softest.
Rivers Cuomo's tender to ode to splendid, sunny isolation. Over deadpan background "hip hips," the band zones out grandly and the bridge where Cuomo sings "we'll run away together" is slovenly power-pop ecstasy. This is seriously as happy as this guy gets. Summer will do that to you.
Loudon Wainwright III was one of the smartest, funniest, oddest stars of the early-Seventies singer-songwriter boom. While everyone else was writing serious songs of manly sensitivity he opened his 1973 album Attempted Mustache with this buoyant banjo-led tune about doing the cannonball and the Italian crawl: "Last summer I swan in the ocean and I swam in a swimming pool/Salt my wounds, chlorine my eyes I'm a self-destructive fool!" Kowabunga!
On this simple, mournful song, the former Modern Lover strums a tribute to the summer moments that haunt you and taunt you as you get older. You know you're in trouble, Richman croons, "When even fourth grade starts looking good (which you hated)." Pretty much every indie rock song about summer builds off this.
Pro tip: Always wear sunscreen, especially when you're pasty pent-up dudes like the Violent Femmes. Over a torqued up acoustic surf-punk, Gordon Gano gave us one of rock's great odes to pencil-necked, acne-scarred horniness. This unlikely hit exploded like an over-ripe zit all over John Hughes America in the mid-Eighties.
The brass-powered soft-rockers pretty much perfect Seventies mellowness on this radio staple, a shout out to Central Park written while the band was recording in New York. Singer Robert Lamm can't remember exactly when he visited the park ("I think it was the Fourth of July") but he had such a chill time he can't wait to get back ("I've been waiting such a long time/For today"). Check out the open-air tropical air aviary at the zoo, man. It's awesome!
In their bright collared shirts and boat shoes, Vampire Weekend looked like they just back from an Ivy League yacht party and this Afro-pop-tinged ode to Benetton babes chilling on sandy lawns was unnaturally brilliant, updating the sweetest Paul Simon for a new generation of restless rich kids.
Arriving a year after these indie-rock heroes' great 2010 comeback album Majesty Shredding, this is a fist-pumping tune about getting psyched for summer that reflects on summers past. The lyrics describe sleeping bags and tape hiss and a beach house with "sweaty sheets and an ocean view." Mac McCaughan sings, "I age backwards when I'm next to you/So erase this summer with me" as the guitars burn away.
Released in June of 1966, this Ray Davies tune taps into English music hall tradition with a jaunty wistful melody; Davies plays a rich kid who's been busted out by the tax man, scrapped by his girlfriend and left with little more than "my ice cold beer/lazing on a sunny afternoon in the summertime." It's like the Beatles' "Taxman" as satire.
What does Morrissey do during "a dreaded sunny day?" Why, hang around among the headstone, arguing the merits of his man Oscar Wilde versus Williams Butler Yeats and John Keats, of course. The song's supple groove – part acoustic guitar strum, part distinctive bass lope and lithe drums – lightens the mood considerably. Note to students on summer vacation: "If you must write prose and poems/the words you use should be your own."
Motels singer Martha Davis reflects on the eternal cycle of good and bad summers: "One summer never ends/One summer never begins" on this spacey slice of good old-fashioned New Wave cheese. Shout out to the ice cream truck in the video!
Surf-punk heaven from some guitar-slashing stoners. Nathan Williams whines about the sun burning his eyes and his back at the beach in his dreams as a basement-studio mix of fuzzed up guitars and crackling drums shred right through his sunstroke bravado.
Combining the wistful essence of alt-country and the gummy groove fun of hip-hop, Jeff Tweedy came up the perfect song about rocking out in the landing in the summer, "playing KISS covers, beautiful and stoned." The nostalgic ache is undeniable to anyone who associates rock music with getting wasted by a lake.
In the summer of 1988, kids at block parties from Brooklyn to Boise skipped rope and played hopscotch and got down to "It Takes Two," the quintessential James Brown-sampling club banger. Writer-producer Rob Base penned it with the hopes of coming up with a song so fun everybody couldn't help but jam to it. Mission accomplished.
The late-Nineties was full of light hip-hop influenced alt-pop by bands like Sugar Ray and Smash Mouth, and this brother-sister duo from Toronto topped them all with this buoyant shot of Beck-esque bubblegum. Marc and Sharon Costanzo were thinking of the Human League's summer-of-'82 smash "Don't You Want Me" when they wrote this loopy tune about sippin' slurpy treats, fryin' on a bench slide in the park and teenage romance gone weird: "my mind was thugged, all laced and bugged, all twisted round and beat."
The great Southern New Wave party band's 1979 novelty hit was a wild, winking throwback to the innocent silliness of Sixties dance crazes. The surfed-up guitar part and Fred Schneider's brilliant Jacques Cousteau-gone-bonkers lyrics ("There goes a dog-fish, chased by a cat-fish, in flew a sea robin, watch out for that piranha, there goes a narwhal, here comes a bikini whale!") made it a psychedelic beach rocker for the ages.
In 1973, LaDonna Andrea Gaines married Austrian actor Helmuth Sommer and repurposed his last name for her own stage name, assuring her inclusion on this list. "Hot Stuff" topped the chart in June 1979, a sex-craving disco anthem with grinding rock guitar courtesy Steely Dan/Doobie Brothers sideman Jeff "Skunk" Baxter.
Rock and roll was only a few years old when Chubby Checker recorded the original nostalgic party jam – "let's twist again like we did last summer," he sings, looking back from the summer of 1961 on the twist-mad summer of 1960. The chugging beat and Chubby's big, smiling delivery make this the ultimate "twist" song and a timeless dancefloor-filler.
A firecracker ode to unbearable weather, Martha & The Vandellas' second hit single shot up the chart in the summer of 1963, and it can still dial up the temperature any time a lazy oldies radio DJ uses it to follow a nasty weather forecast. Alabama-born Martha Reeves sings about a guy who's hot she gives her a fever over a high-energy R&B groove that was one of the earliest moments of genius for Motown's Holland-Dozier-Holland songwriting team.
Like the Ramones, Blondie mixed a tough New York attitude with a love of Sixties bubblegum pop. "Surf's up!" Debbie Harry yells over a "Wipeout" drum beat on this sleek, moody surf-rocker from their 1976 debut, an ode to getting out the gray city and hitting the beach. "Where is my wave," she wonders. Just a subway ride away.
A perfect country song about memories of Born In the USA as the "soundtrack to a July Saturday night," Eric Church's 2012 hit is so vivid you can almost smell the bug spray and Budweiser. Hooked to a spare melody and full of unforgettable images ("Discount shades, store bought tan, flip-flops and cut off jeans," he sings, describing his Boss-loving high school girlfriend), it evokes hot summer nights with bittersweet nostalgia.
It might not seem like a seasonal tune at first, but this disco classic (which dominated the summer of 1979) is all about getting down on steamy nights "'bout a quarter to ten." (Its B-side was the luxuriant "On A Warm Summer Night".) According to Chic, the sporting life includes clams on the half shell and roller-skating. Who are we to argue with those who can create a groove as recognizable as the national anthem?
Commissioned for Spike Lee's movie Do the Right Thing, this bracing hip-hop call-to-arms is a heart-racing jumble of samples that crash into the groove. Then Chuck D yells: "Nineteen Eighty-NINE!/ The number/ Another SUMMER!" His call to activist awareness was the hip-hop generation's "Dancing in the Street."
Wistful like the waning days of August before you have to load the car up and head back to the dorm, Pavement's watershed tune is all melancholic guitar prettiness and vague breakup blues. It could be found on roughly a million undergrad mix tapes during the Clinton administration.
Soul music's tortured prince goes disco by figuring out how to make heavy funk light on its feet. It is impossible not to move to this 1977 jam, especially because it is about a shy dude afraid of the world until he hits the dancefloor. Perfect for any backyard cookout, it obviously changed Michael Jackson's life.