From dark alt-pop to mind-melting techno-rock, the 10 acts to look out for in 2025

The concept of the “breakout artist” was close to being written off until 2024, when both Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan exploded into the public consciousness as two very different, but equally huge new pop queens. Yet they were far from “overnight sensations” – former Disney star Carpenter was on her sixth album by then, while Roan first began releasing songs in 2014. A decade later, both are nominated in most if not all of the Big Four categories at the Grammys – including “Best New Artist” – and still firmly in the ascendant.

When it comes to choosing our own best new artists, there’s no talk of genre or streaming numbers, and it doesn’t matter if they don’t all scoop Brit Awards or Grammy nods in the next 12 months. On this year’s list, we’ve fallen for everything from Scottish folk-punk to dark alt-pop, soul to mind-melting techno-rock. Many have yet to release their debut albums, but they’ve done enough to convince us they’re worth paying attention to.

Here are the 10 artists to watch in 2025.

In November, lit by a simple spotlight, Jacob Alon performed on Later… With Jools Holland wearing a skirt of golden feathers. Paired with their gold eyeshadow, cherubic curls and glitter-dusted skin, they resembled some fantastic, mythical creature. The Fife-born artist’s voice, too, is otherworldly – as spectral and strong as a spider’s web.

On early single “Fairy in a Bottle”, they sing over tenderly picked acoustic guitar in an Adrianne Lenker croon. In their lyrics, childish denial tussles with adult acceptance: “Let me hold these words until my heart retires/ I wanna worship you before the hope expires…” then, later: “But I lead my heart to become so cruel/ As to imprison an idea of you/ It’s not your fault, it’s my disease/ And I must learn to set you free.” It’s poetry, beautiful and devastating. Consider us enchanted. Roisin O’Connor

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Admittedly, calling Lola Young “one to watch” rings a little untrue. After all, the Gen Z artist has been bubbling up for some time now – ever since she was the sweet-as-pie voice of the 2021 John Lewis Christmas ad. Though she’s still only 23, that downy-soft bedroom pop sound is already a bygone era for Young, whose ear now bends towards R&B (“Conceited”) and reggae skank (“Big Brown Eyes”) as much as it does doo-wop (“Messy”) and folk (“You Noticed”). Her breathy vocals are put to better use in this scattershot way, landing lyrics about terrible men and faltering mental health with a well-timed wallop. Annabel Nugent

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Falkirk-formed five-piece 叠谤ò驳别补濒 were one of the best live acts we saw in 2024, and their folk-rock sound is tuned directly to their proud Scottish heritage. Songs such as “Witchy Emerald Eyes” channel the spirit of The Pogues, while “Girl from NYC” taps into the Noughties indie that its members were raised on (they supported fellow Scots The View for three nights at Barrowlands in December). Alongside the ramshackle but proficient musicianship are catchy melodies and lyrics, which narrate the minutiae of small-town life, or else paint vivid pictures of eccentric outsiders. All this and with only a couple of EPs between them, we’re hoping for an album this year. ROC

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“I fear the day I’m happy in a relationship because I won’t have anything to write about,” lamented Brooke Combe earlier this year. Such is the plight of soul singers across the ages. Selfishly, we’re hoping the 24-year-old Scot has enough material to continue serving up Motown-flavoured alt-pop nuggets like “Talkin’ About Heartaches”, and barnstorming kiss-offs such as “Are You with Me?” At the centre of it all is Combe’s voice, perfectly imperfect in the way the best soul singers often are – with a good deal of grit in there, too. Soul is making a comeback in 2025, and Combe is leading the charge. AN

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Trauma is soundtracked by a thumping techno beat thanks to Northern Irish trio Chalk, who meld industrial rock with electronic, art-punk and gothic. Formed by Ross Cullen, Luke Niblock and Benedict Goddard while studying film at university in Belfast, Chalk approach their work like directors, plotting out vast, ambitious tracks, which try to make sense of the inexplicable. Take “Claw”, a juddering, clanging chamber of noise out of which Cullen’s voice crawls, dark and ominous: “‘Don’t go to bed, don’t see the light,’ I whisper softly to myself.” Recent single “Tell Me” feels as indebted to Daft Punk as Death Grips. They’re fantastic live, too, provided you can stand the incessant flicker of strobe lights. Easy listening? Definitely not. Rewarding? Absolutely. ROC

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The beating heart of Luvcat’s music is black and oozing. It’s a dark sort of romance that pulses through songs like “Dinner @ Brasserie Zedel” – the Liverpudlian’s love letter to her favourite Soho eatery. The track is swooning and melodramatic, all Fifties guitar twang and cabaret backbeat. It’s a song that sounds as though it’s being performed from behind the fluffy ostrich feathers of a burlesque fan – also true of her superb, banjo-inflected debut “Matador” and the intoxicating murder ballad “He’s My Man”. There’s something gloriously theatrical about her music; rumours that she left school to run away with the circus seem more and more plausible with each release. AN

DIY rockers Man/Woman/Chainsaw take cues from south London’s Windmill scene, and homegrown bands like Black Midi and Black Country, New Road. But there’s something wholly uncynical about their approach, which makes them far more fun a prospect than many of their peers. “I’m sorry I dropped the baton,” singer and guitarist Billy Ward intones on “Sports Day”... “I’m not that fast.” On “Grow a Tongue in Time”, from their debut EP Eazy Peazy, violinist Clio Starwood plays a strangely beautiful tune while co-founder Vera Lepp?nen sings wearily: “You had it in your pocket/ Yes I’d want it/ You’d crumb it up and drop it all across the floor/ A trail I’d follow to your door/ You’d have run out/ But I’d be devout/ Hoping you had more.” Man/Woman/Chainsaw are a band you’ll get a real buzz listening to. ROC

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In his own words, Victor Ray has been on a journey from “street level and up”. He started out busking on any London street that would have him, at the same time uploading songs on social media until one – the woozy rock and soul-influenced “Comfortable” – blew up on TikTok in 2024. Later that year, he sold out Koko in London. Alongside artists such as indie singer-songwriter Rachel Chinouriri and recent Brit Award-winner Myles Smith, Ray is breaking down barriers in an industry known for pigeonholing Black artists to R&B, rap and hip-hop. “Stay for a While” has a snappy sultriness that makes the most of his gorgeous voice; “Halfway There” melds grunge with gospel. His songwriting is diaristic, often rooted in personal experience. “Popcorn and a Smoothie” delves into his relationship with his frequently absent father, showcasing the staggering vulnerability that appeals so much to his fans. ROC

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Is the future of post-punk po-faced? Not if Fat Dog can help it. Led by moustachioed frontman Joe Love and hailing from south London (where else?), this five-piece is loudly, profoundly ridiculous. New listeners should consider their seven-minute single “King of the Slugs” a sonic tasting menu of sorts: a chance to sample all the ingredients that make Fat Dog Fat Dog. The song is a Frankenstein’s monster of hard rock and EDM stitched together with an incendiary bassline, rave-ready synths, plus an oompah section (surprise!). As is often the case with bands such as this, the best way to experience Fat Dog is live – preferably awash in lukewarm beer in the middle of a mosh pit. AN

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Coming out swinging from down under are indie upstarts Royel Otis. Though newly transplanted to south London, the Australian guitar-pop duo, Royel Madden and Otis Pavlovic, are holding on to their sunny sound. Early hits like “Oysters in My Pocket” share DNA with feel-good bands of the 2010s like Passion Pit and MGMT. It’s been pedal-to-the-metal since forming in lockdown, accelerating into warp speed with their mega-viral covers of Sophie Ellis-Bextors’s disco-pop bop “Murder on the Dancefloor” and the Cranberries’ lovesick ballad “Linger”. Their songs dance the line between sweet and saccharine, but at the end of a hard day (or year), who’s saying no to a dopamine hit? AN