Courtney Barnett built a career out of turning offhand observations into some of the sharpest guitar rock of the last decade, and any list of the 20 best Courtney Barnett songs has to reckon with just how much ground her catalogue covers. From the sprawling, deadpan talk-singing of her early EPs to the stripped-back introspection of Things Take Time, Take Time, her songwriting has always balanced wit against genuine ache. This rundown moves chronologically through her most essential tracks, pulling from The Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas, Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit, Lotta Sea Lice, and Things Take Time, Take Time, with a stop at the fuller GlobalMusicVibe songs archive for readers chasing more Australian indie rock picks.
Avant Gardener
Released in 2013 on The Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas, “Avant Gardener” is the song that put Barnett on the map internationally, and it still holds up as one of the most oddly gripping singles of the 2010s. The track recounts a panic attack suffered mid-gardening in unglamorous, almost clinical detail, with Barnett’s talk-sung delivery riding a loose, jangly guitar line that never rushes the story. What makes it work is the tension between the mundane subject matter and the very real medical emergency unfolding underneath it, a trick she’d return to again and again. On headphones, the mix keeps her vocal dry and upfront, which only sharpens the dark comedy of lines about asthma pumps and ambulances.
Dead Fox
From 2015’s breakthrough Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit, “Dead Fox” is Barnett at her most stream-of-consciousness, stringing together a road trip, organic food skepticism, and roadkill into a single tumbling verse. The band locks into a driving, almost surf-adjacent groove that gives the song forward momentum even as the lyrics wander. Barnett’s guitar tone here, gritty but never overdriven into noise, became something of a signature across the album. It’s a song that rewards a car stereo listen almost more than headphones, matching its own restless, highway-bound subject matter.
Pedestrian at Best
Arguably the loudest and most immediate cut on Sometimes I Sit and Think, “Pedestrian at Best” is a self-lacerating blast of garage rock that trades Barnett’s usual conversational pacing for something closer to a sprint. The chorus, built around the line “put me on a pedestal and I’ll only disappoint you,” captures the impostor syndrome that runs underneath a lot of her writing, just delivered here with distortion instead of dry wit. Chart-wise, it became one of her most streamed tracks and a live-set staple, partly because the energy translates so well to a festival crowd. The mixing pushes the rhythm section hard, giving the drums a physical, almost punk urgency that separates it from the rest of the record.
Elevator Operator
The album opener on Sometimes I Sit and Think, “Elevator Operator” introduces a fictional teenager named Oliver Paul who skips work to ride an elevator up a Melbourne high-rise. Barnett’s narrative songwriting is on full display, packing an entire short story into three and a half minutes without ever losing the melody underneath it. The arrangement stays relatively spare, letting the guitar interplay and her phrasing carry the weight rather than layering on studio effects. It’s a strong example of how her lyricism functions almost like short fiction, observational and specific in a way that invites repeat listens just to catch details missed the first time.
Small Poppies
Clocking in as one of the longer tracks in her catalogue, “Small Poppies” builds slowly from a hushed verse into a genuinely cathartic guitar outro that stretches the song past the five-minute mark. Barnett’s vocal delivery starts almost conversational before the emotional stakes rise, and the band follows that arc with a gradual buildup in volume and distortion. It’s a song that live performance energy transforms entirely, since the extended instrumental section becomes a showcase for her guitar playing in a way the studio version only hints at. For anyone comparing her earbuds and headphones setups for critical listening, the dynamic range here is a genuinely useful stress test, and GlobalMusicVibe’s headphone comparison guide is a solid starting point for dialing that in.
An Illustration of Loneliness
Subtitled with reference to sleeping alone, “An Illustration of Loneliness” pairs a gentler, more melodic arrangement with lyrics that sit among Barnett’s most emotionally direct. The production keeps things relatively uncluttered, favoring clean guitar tones and a steady rhythm that lets the vocal melody do most of the emotional lifting. It’s less jokey than a lot of her other work from this era, trading absurdist detail for something closer to plain-spoken vulnerability. That shift in tone makes it a useful contrast point when sequencing her catalogue, since it shows a songwriter capable of sincerity without losing her distinct voice.
Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go to the Party
This one captures social anxiety and domestic ennui with the kind of specificity that made Barnett’s early reputation, cataloguing chores and half-hearted excuses instead of a big emotional statement. The arrangement is loose and slightly ramshackle, which suits lyrics about staying home rather than facing a social obligation. Her guitar work throughout stays understated, prioritizing rhythm over lead lines, and the mix keeps the vocal close and intimate. It’s a fan favorite precisely because it turns a relatable, low-stakes frustration into something genuinely funny and a little sad at once.
Aqua Profunda!
One of the shortest tracks on Sometimes I Sit and Think, “Aqua Profunda!” is a quick burst about an embarrassing moment at a public swimming pool, and it moves with an urgency that matches the panic of the scenario. Barnett packs the whole narrative into under two minutes without the song ever feeling rushed or incomplete. The instrumentation stays tight and economical, more punk in spirit than the more sprawling tracks surrounding it on the record. It’s a good example of her range as a writer, showing she can compress a story just as effectively as she can stretch one out.
Scotty Says
Pulled from 2013’s The Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas, “Scotty Says” leans into a heavier, more overtly rock arrangement than a lot of Barnett’s later work, with guitars pushed further up in the mix. The songwriting here is looser and less narrative-driven, functioning more as mood and texture than a tightly plotted story. It’s a useful reminder that her earliest material, before the polish of major-label attention, already had the guitar chops that would define her live reputation. Fans tracing her evolution as a player often point back to these early EP cuts as the rawest version of her sound.
Don’t Apply Compression Gently
Also from the debut double EP, “Don’t Apply Compression Gently” is a title that doubles as a wink toward production and mixing itself, fitting for a songwriter as self-aware as Barnett. The track leans into a heavier, more distorted guitar tone, and the recording embraces a rawer, less mastered feel than her later studio output. That rougher edge is part of the appeal for longtime listeners who prefer the scrappier version of her sound before the arrangements got more deliberate. It’s not the most streamed cut in her catalogue, but it’s a genuinely revealing listen for understanding where she started.
Continental Breakfast
The opening statement on 2017’s Lotta Sea Lice, her full-length collaboration with Kurt Vile, “Continental Breakfast” sets the tone for a record built on relaxed interplay between two distinct songwriting voices. The two trade verses and guitar lines with an easy chemistry, and the mix gives both vocalists room without either dominating. Producer Burke Reid, who also worked on Barnett’s solo records, keeps the arrangement loose and warm rather than tightly controlled. It’s a good entry point for listeners who want to hear how Barnett’s style shifts when she’s writing in conversation with another artist rather than solo.
Fear Is Like A Forest
Also from Lotta Sea Lice, “Fear Is Like A Forest” is actually a reworking of a Kurt Vile track, reimagined here with Barnett’s vocal and guitar sensibility layered into the arrangement. The extended instrumental sections give both musicians space to stretch out, leaning into a jammier, more exploratory feel than either artist’s solo work typically allows. It’s a strong example of collaborative songwriting where the guest interpretation adds new dimension rather than just guesting on someone else’s song. On a good pair of headphones, the interplay between the two guitar parts becomes much easier to pick apart.
Blue Cheese
A shorter, punchier cut from Lotta Sea Lice, “Blue Cheese” keeps the collaborative record’s loose energy while trimming the runtime down considerably compared to some of the album’s longer jams. The lyrics stay characteristically observational, and the vocal trade-off between Barnett and Vile again gives the track a conversational, almost improvised quality. It’s a good showcase of how naturally their two voices sit together without either artist having to compromise their usual phrasing. The rhythm section stays tight and unfussy throughout, keeping the focus on the vocal interplay.
Untogether
Closing out Lotta Sea Lice, “Untogether” slows the tempo considerably, ending the record on a more reflective note after its looser, jammier midsection. The arrangement strips back to something closer to a duet ballad, with both vocalists’ harmonies given more space than earlier on the album. It’s one of the more emotionally direct moments on a record that otherwise leans into musical looseness over lyrical vulnerability. The production choice to end the album quietly rather than with another extended jam session says something about how deliberately the sequencing was handled.
Peepin’ Tom
Another Lotta Sea Lice highlight, “Peepin’ Tom” leans into a warmer, more melodic arrangement that sits comfortably between Barnett’s rock instincts and Vile’s more meandering folk-rock tendencies. The guitar work is understated but detailed, rewarding a close, attentive listen rather than a passive one. Lyrically it stays in familiar Barnett territory, wry observation delivered without much embellishment. It’s a track that benefits from context, sounding richer as part of the full album sequence than as an isolated single.
Pickles From the Jar
Released as a standalone single in 2017, “Pickles From the Jar” is a leaner, more straightforward rock song than much of her album work from the same period, built around a memorable, almost singalong hook. The production keeps the guitars bright and the rhythm section propulsive, giving it an immediacy that translates well to a live setting. It’s a track that shows Barnett could write something more conventionally catchy without losing the idiosyncratic phrasing that defines her style. Streaming numbers for the single held up well against her album cuts from the same era, a testament to how well the hook lands.
Write a List of Things to Look Forward To
The opening track on 2021’s Things Take Time, Take Time, this song marks a clear sonic shift toward a warmer, more electronic-tinged production compared to her earlier guitar-forward records. The arrangement leans on gentle synth textures and a steadier, more meditative pace, reflecting an album largely written and recorded during a period of enforced stillness. Barnett’s lyricism here turns inward, focused on small daily rituals rather than the outward observational humor of her earlier work. It’s a strong signal of artistic growth, showing a songwriter willing to slow down and reshape her sound rather than repeat a winning formula.
Before You Gotta Go
Also from Things Take Time, Take Time, “Before You Gotta Go” carries a gentler, more melodic sensibility than most of Barnett’s back catalogue, with a chorus built for genuine emotional payoff rather than deadpan wit. The production, again shaped by co-producer Stella Mozgawa of Warpaint, favors warmth and space over the rawer guitar tones of her earlier records. It’s a song about processing loss and change with a directness that marks a real evolution in her songwriting voice. The arrangement rewards a quiet, focused listen more than a background one, letting the melody’s patience actually land.
Sunfair Sundown
One of the more stripped-back moments on Things Take Time, Take Time, “Sunfair Sundown” leans into acoustic textures and a slower tempo that suits the album’s overall mood of reflection. It’s a quieter entry in her catalogue, prioritizing atmosphere and vocal restraint over the guitar-driven hooks of her earlier singles. The song’s sparse arrangement makes it a good example of how much her sound had loosened up by 2021, trading density for space. Listeners coming to her music through this record first often cite tracks like this as evidence of just how far her range as a songwriter extends.
Take It Day By Day
Closing out this list, “Take It Day By Day” distills the coping-with-uncertainty theme running through Things Take Time, Take Time into one of the album’s most direct choruses. The production stays consistent with the record’s overall warmth, blending acoustic and electronic elements without letting either dominate. Barnett’s vocal delivery here is calmer and more settled than on her earlier records, matching lyrics that read as genuinely hard-won advice rather than observational comedy. It’s a fitting bookend for an artist whose songwriting has moved from anxious specificity toward something closer to quiet resolve.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Courtney Barnett’s most popular song?
“Pedestrian at Best” and “Avant Gardener” are generally considered her most streamed and most widely recognized tracks, with “Pedestrian at Best” earning a Grammy nomination for Best Rock Song and helping push Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit to a Grammy nomination for Best New Artist.
What genre is Courtney Barnett’s music?
Her catalogue sits primarily in indie rock and garage rock, with strong lyrical ties to folk and slacker rock traditions. Things Take Time, Take Time pulled her sound closer to indie pop and dream pop textures compared to the grittier guitar work of her earlier releases.
Who produced Lotta Sea Lice?
Burke Reid, Stella Mozgawa, Dan Luscombe, and A.G. Cook were among the credited producers and engineers across the sessions for Lotta Sea Lice, Barnett’s 2017 collaborative record with Kurt Vile.
Is Courtney Barnett still releasing new music?
Yes. Her most recent studio album, Things Take Time, Take Time, arrived in 2021, and she has continued touring and releasing live material since. Readers wanting to compare listening setups for catching studio detail on her newer, more layered production can check GlobalMusicVibe’s earbuds comparison guide for options.
What album should a new listener start with?
Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit remains the most representative entry point, balancing the wit and observational songwriting she’s best known for with consistently strong hooks across the full tracklist.