1999 (with Charli XCX)

An unabashedly nostalgic rush of synth-pop energy, this Troye Sivan and Charli XCX collaboration is built around samples and textures lifted straight from late 90s radio — the kind of production that fizzes with static and sugar and feels like rewinding a VHS tape. The synths are bright and primary-colored, the drums have that compressed snap, and the whole thing moves at a pace that feels almost dizzy with enthusiasm. But the song isn't simply retro cosplay: there's a genuine tenderness in it, a longing for the simplicity of childhood before the weight of adult feeling arrived. Charli XCX and Sivan trade lines with a playful looseness, their vocal chemistry light and teasing, two people rummaging through shared cultural memory together. Lyrically it's less about a specific year and more about what that era represents — innocence, a pre-internet world, friendship that felt permanent. It became a kind of generational anthem for millennials processing nostalgia through an ironic but deeply sincere lens. The song fits the 2018 moment when hyperpop's DNA was still cross-pollinating with mainstream indie-pop. This is a song for driving with the windows down in summer, singing too loud, or for any moment you want to briefly teleport out of adulthood and back into something lighter.