The 100 Best Dance Songs of All Time: Staff List

As a top 10 hit in the U.S. and a monster smash in Clean Bandit’s native UK, “Rather Be” was partially boosted by timing: the post-EDM wave made room for a classical-infused dance track to cross over to the mainstream, London co-writer Jimmy Napes was in the middle of a red-hot streak, and guest vocalist Jess Glynne was still an unknown entity in search of an anthem. Still, that violin hook would probably hit hard in any time period, and Glynne’s subtle emotion on the song sounds destined to soundtrack euphoric dance floors. — JASON LIPSHUTZ

The song that launched thousands of chill-out rooms, The Orb’s “Little Fluffy Clouds” is just as suited for zoning out on a beanbag as it is for twirling under lasers aimed at the dancefloor. Dubbed “armchair techno” for its slowed-down beats and lush textures, this summery 1990 classic pairs ambient synth work with an irresistible melodic groove. Singer-songwriter Rickie Lee Jones’ dreamy, stream-of-consciousness musings sampled throughout evoke its titular pillowy skies and sunshine vibes with a touch of nostalgia. — LILY MOAYERI

Anohni‘s quavering voice hovers, Sylvester-like, over the chugging synthesizers and chirpy horns that drive “Blind.” But the singer wasn’t initially enthusiastic about the track when they recorded it with Hercules & Love Affair founder Andy Butler in 2004. Anohni “always thought it was ‘curious,’” Butler said in 2008. Several years and two dozen versions later, the singer finally gave their stamp of approval, and Butler released “Blind” as Hercules and Love Affair’s 2008 debut single. Frankie Knuckles helmed the remix for the house-heads, revving up the tempo and stripping away some of the Euro-disco touches to reveal the dancefloor missile within. — ELIAS LEIGHT

In a moment when the dance world was transfixed by the young brothers of Disclosure and their reverence for classic house, Australian future bass producer Flume had the nerve (or dare we say, cheek) to invert those conventions. On his remix of “You & Me,” the duo’s garage-y third single from their debut LP, Eliza Doolittle’s vocals flip from playful to haunting as verses are vanquished, the chorus is cleaved and the BPM pitched wayyy down. The result is a remix that both freezes time while enduring on its own. — ZEL MCCARTHY

It was the right timing for Zedd’s strongest beats and strongest melodies to come together into one signature smash, certainly – arriving at the 2012 zenith of EDM’s pop gold rush, “Clarity” hit the Billboard Hot 100’s top 10 and capped a million peak hours on Obama-era dancefloors across the globe. But the difference-maker was always Foxes’ vocal, an impossibly tender and fraught rendering of an oft-incomprehensible lyric that turned “Why are you my clarity?” into a generational belt-along, and still demonstrates how much was lost when dance music turned into a star-power arms race later in the decade. — ANDREW UNTERBERGER

British duo The Future Sound of London brought emotion to the rave with the eerie, atmospheric “Papua New Guinea.” This 1991 track adds a sci-fi touch to the dancefloor, blending escalating breakbeats and a shuddering bassline — lifted from Meat Beat Manifesto’s “Radio Babylon,” which in turn borrowed from Boney M.’s 1978 “Rivers of Babylon” cover. A synth that sounds like a seagull call heightens the otherworldly feel, while a wordless female vocal sample softens the edges, bringing warmth and soul. Haunting and hypnotic, FSOL defined a moment in rave time. — L.M.

An influential Detroit techno pioneer in the ‘90s (under his own name as well as the Paperclip People and Innerzone Orchestra monikers), Carl Craig expanded his already omnivorous palette in the 21st century via immersive sound installations and ambitious classical music collaborations. “The Melody” (off his 2017 album Versus, a project that began on a Paris stage in 2008) is a puckish masterstroke of the latter, melding minimalist piano and downtempo to create a gorgeous IDM tango. — JOE LYNCH

David Guetta and Kelly Rowland’s “When Love Takes Over” was the launchpad for EDM’s own takeover. A neon-themed, Vegas-style marriage of dance music and pop, the French producer’s cascading piano riff and Rowland’s powerhouse vocal created a rush of euphoria. It also soared to No. 1 in 12 countries and onto the Hot 100, where it spent nine weeks in the summer of 2009, the first major smash of many that would establish Guetta as genre royalty. “Love” became the blueprint for the countless crossover collabs that followed, proving dance music wasn’t just for the dance floor – it was radio gold. — KRYSTAL RODRIGUEZ

Danish pop duo Junior Senior’s 2002 debut album is titled D-D-Don’t Don’t Stop the Beat — a phrase that both appears in their breakthrough smash “Move Your Feet” and describes the song’s relentless (and relentlessly cheery) ethos. “Move Your Feet” functions like a firehose of sunshine, with Junior Senior commanding their audience to never stop moving and that same audience chiming in that they will not; there’s a reason why this one is a Dance Dance Revolution classic, and it still keeps legs flailing decades later. — J. Lipshutz

In the near-half century since the four Sledge sisters of Sister Sledge released their most commercially successful album, We Are Family, its title track remains the group’s best-known. But with its circular structure and lyrics greeting us in medias res, “Lost In Music” abides as peak disco, inspiring those who find it to embrace unabashed hedonism and reject the confines of 20th century capitalism. While brimming with musical signatures from the era’s überproducer duo of Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers, nothing hides the glory of the Sledges’ mellifluous mirrorball harmonies. — ZEL MCCARTHY

From the moment Louie Vega debuted Ultra Naté’s “Free” at the 1997 Music Winter Conference in Miami, its message – “You’re freeeeee to do what you want to do” – became a mantra, and declaration of self-liberation. The house classic, built upon New York City duo Mood II Swing’s guitar-driven groove and Naté’s commanding vocals, traveled well outside club walls, topping dance charts worldwide and crossing into the Hot 100, where it hit No. 75 and spent 19 weeks. Over 20 years later, when dance floors re-opened post-lockdown, “Free” took on new meaning for a new generation of punters ready to reclaim the light. Truly timeless. – K.R.

The biggest hit by German outfit Real McCoy is also a template example of Eurodance, one of the endless variations of house music forged on the continent after the genre first crossed the Atlantic, and a sound defined by bass rhythms, shiny synths, chest thumping vocal hooks, rapped verses and a hard pop lean. The lyrics of the 1994 Dance Club Songs No. 1 focus on talking (“I talk talk, I talk to you,” rapper Olaf Jeglitza growls in the verses) and in fact the song’s entire structure is conversational, with Jeglitza volleying with a saccharine and undeniable chorus from studio singer Karin Kasar, who sings to the object of her affection (who she only meets in dreams her “dreams of love so true”) in a melody as deliriously sweet as the feelings of love and longing being expressed. — KATIE BAIN

The dirty garage-rockers of early-‘00s New York had been playing around at dance music’s kids table for a couple years, but “House of Jealous Lovers” proved they could hang with the grown-ups. With DFA head honcho (and LCD Soundsystem ingenieur) James Murphy pushing neo-no-wavers The Rapture to focus their freakout on the floor, “Lovers” pulsed like an ECG and weaponized more cowbell than “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” and “Honky Tonk Women” combined, but still felt driven by the same thrashing live-band energy that made the New Rock Revolution. It wasn’t punk music mixed with disco, it was punk as disco. – A.U.

Popularized by legendary house DJ Ron Hardy at Chicago’s Muzic Box in the mid ‘80s, “Acid Tracks” not only created a subgenre of music but practically kickstarted the U.K. rave scene by the end of the decade. Phuture – a Chicago-based trio of DJ Pierre, Spanky and Herb J – created what would become known as acid house, by manipulating a Roland TB-303 bass line synthesizer to create a “squelchy” robotic sound that took tech-based music to new inorganic extremes. On “Acid Tracks,” which came to life with production and mixing help from Marshall Jefferson, those squelches curve, stab and all but trip over each other above a rushing, mechanized four-on-the-floor beat that could satiate (if not wear out) the most hardcore dancer over the course of 12 breathless minutes. — J. Lynch

By 2011, American dubstep (not to be confused with its U.K. counterpart) was already bubbling, but Skrillex’s remix of Benny Benassi’s “Cinema” helped send it to a screaming boil. He flipped the dreamy original into a full-throttle bass assault, complete with the seismic drops and robotic screeches that would become the genre’s signature. The track won Skrillex a Grammy for best remixed recording, and over a decade later, still rattles festival grounds, a time capsule from an era when dance music was loud, brash and absolutely relentless. — K.R.

Patrick Cowley and Sylvester were both openly gay artists who pioneered disco in the late ‘70s and died amid the devastating AIDS epidemic of the ‘80s – but not before leaving indelible and sublime marks on dance music history. Their co-credited “Do You Wanna Funk?,” released the year Cowley died, is a Hi-NRG staple that exemplifies the best of the genre: runaway-train tempos, percolating synths and crisp four-on-the-floor rhythms. But it soared onto Billboard’s Dance Club Songs chart, and the genre’s GOAT pantheon, thanks to Cowley’s deft flourishes — his synths twitter with nervous energy one moment then blast into the stratosphere the next (and that cowbell doesn’t get a moment’s rest) — and Sylvester’s falsetto wail, which is simultaneously heavenly and lascivious, masculine and feminine, and completely inimitable. — J. Lynch

While he’s better known for changing the course of rock, R&B and pop, Prince was an essential force in ‘80s dance music as well, particularly on 1982’s 1999 (and many of his B-sides released that decade). On that LP’s “D.M.S.R.” (which stands for “dance, music, sex, romance” – four of his favorite topics), the Minneapolis marvel pairs his nimble, funky guitar lines with a tireless mechanical beat and kooky, delirious synths, to create a robotic yet wild groove that runs for eight sweaty minutes. — J. Lynch

Fatboy Slim created a kaleidoscope of sound that’s hypnotic and repetitive, but still manages to shift tempos and styles in the dazzling display from 1998, the era in which the English producer born Norman Cook was crossing over hard into pop culture (and the Hot 100) with his litany of era-defining hits. Hailing from his classic You’ve Come A Long Way Baby, “The Rockafeller Skank” is built around the Lord Finesse-sampled phrase “right about now, the funk soul brother,” repeated over a staggering array of musical styles that include an insistent drumbeat from the Just Brothers’ “Sliced Tomatoes” and a surf guitar from Duane Eddy’s “Twistin’ ‘N’ Twangin,’” among other samples. Cook basically Frankensteins together the song from various elements, while adding his own flair to create the big beat essential. — MELINDA NEWMAN

After working with disco remix maestro Tom Moulton in the late 1970s, Grace Jones bought a ticket to the Bahamas in 1980 to try her luck with “the Compass Point All Stars,” a studio band out of Compass Point Studios that included the famed Jamaican rhythm section Sly & Robbie, Uziah Thompson on additional percussion, Barry Reynolds on guitar, and Wally Badarou on keyboards. 

The Compass Point All Stars “fit me like a bloody glove,” Jones wrote in her 2015 memoir. “We fell into a pure, instinctive groove.” “Everything was one take,” Sly Dunbar noted in 2008 — “that didn’t need hours and hours of preparation.”

Many club hits thump, laying down a steady barrage of percussion to keep dancers constantly engaged. In contrast, 1981’s “Pull Up to the Bumper” oozes across the dancefloor — it’s slow compared to disco, around 109 beats per minute, but awash in gluey, devil-may-care bass and nearly cartoonish synthesizers. Jones’ commanding vocals offer either expert advice on how to maneuver a car into a narrow parking spot — essential knowledge for her New York-based fans — or a detailed how-to manual for a romantic partner. The Compass Point All Stars “set up the groove and worked out the beats,” Jones wrote in 2015. “I got in the chariot.” — E.L.

Defining the darker side of electronic sound, the erratic genius of Britain’s Aphex Twin hits a menacingly cool peak on this iconic 1999 single. His catalog ranges from introspective melodies to abrasive digital experiments, and “Windowlicker” lands perfectly in between. It’s haunting and heavy, sinister yet sexy. Full of Aphex Twin’s signature glitches and complex IDM musings, it mixes sensual moans with screeching chirps, rhythm-shattering sound hiccups and head-banging bass lines before finishing in a fuzzy burst of industrial chaos. The music video, directed by frequent visual collaborator Chris Cunningham, is just as classic, simultaneously hilarious and horrifying. Daft Punk even named it as an influence on their Discovery productions, with Daft’s Thomas Bangalter in 2001 calling “Windowlicker” “neither a purely club track nor a very chilled-out, down-tempo relaxation track.” — KAT BEIN