Top Genre Shifts in 2025: Is Hyperpop Here to Stay?

Music genres in 2025 don’t behave like they used to. They melt, mutate, and remix themselves in real time. If a song’s got rage beats, country guitars, and auto-tuned emo vocals? That’s not weird anymore — that’s just music now. But if there’s one genre that predicted and pushed this chaos, it’s hyperpop.

When hyperpop started bubbling up in the late 2010s and early 2020s, it wasn’t even clear what to call it. It was loud, digital, messy, and weirdly emotional. You had glitchy synths, pitch-shifted vocals, chaotic energy, and lyrics that hit somewhere between ironic and heartbreakingly sincere. Artists like 100 gecs, Charli XCX (circa how i’m feeling now), SOPHIE, and Dorian Electra were bending pop music until it cracked, then rebuilding it from the wreckage.

At first, it felt niche — music for terminally online kids raised on memes and Nightcore. But it caught on. Fast. Spotify made a playlist. Labels started circling. Gen Z latched on hard. Hyperpop became shorthand for everything anti-polished, anti-formula, and defiantly queer.

But here in 2025, the energy has shifted.

Hyperpop, as a label, isn’t doing what it used to. The scene has splintered. Some of the biggest names that were once grouped under the tag have moved on. Charli XCX is now fully in her post-hyperpop experimental pop star era. Glaive and ericdoa are chasing more mainstream, radio-ready sounds. Laura Les is doing her own thing outside the 100 gecs bubble. And the scene’s original chaos has mellowed in a lot of places.

That doesn’t mean it’s over. It means it’s everywhere.

The DNA of hyperpop — the pitch glitches, the whiplash transitions, the rejection of traditional genre rules — has spread far beyond the playlist. It’s infected trap, indie, EDM, even pop-country. You can hear hyperpop’s fingerprints on 2025’s mainstream releases:

• Pop stars playing with vocal pitch in extreme ways.

• Rappers embracing bright, bubbly synths and weird beat flips.

• Producers pushing mixes to be more blown-out, more maximalist, less “perfect.”

Even artists that don’t self-identify as hyperpop are working with its sonic toolkit. You hear it in the music of quannnic, midwxst, d0llywood1, osquinn, and petal supply. A lot of these artists have moved beyond the term — and that’s kind of the point. Hyperpop was never meant to be a permanent genre. It was a rupture. A moment. A style that challenged what pop could be — and now, that energy lives on in dozens of other directions.

Still, there’s debate around whether the original core of hyperpop — its radical queerness, its rejection of industry polish, its emotional volatility — is getting diluted. Some fans feel like the movement got absorbed into the same machinery it was rebelling against. Others see its mainstream impact as proof of success.

Either way, hyperpop changed the map.

It proved that genres don’t have to stay in their lanes. That digital-native artists could build massive followings outside the label system. That pop doesn’t need to be clean or digestible to be powerful. And that distortion, mess, and emotional rawness can connect just as deeply as polish and poise.

So, is hyperpop here to stay?

Not in its original, playlist-defined form. That era is fading. But as a creative force — as a set of ideas, a way of breaking sound and rebuilding it on your own terms — it’s not going anywhere. It’s just evolving. Mutating. Hiding in plain sight inside the next wave of music that doesn’t care what box it’s supposed to fit in.