The 36 best Halloween songs of all time

Okay, so technically this song is about unemployment, inner-city violence and urban decay, not decaying flesh. But the 1981 hit, released at the height of the UK’s recession riots, still creeps us out in the very best way, with eerie flute solos, ominous lyrics and maniacal, childlike la-la-las – plus some pretty spooky synth fades.

The perennial holiday favorite (or Halloween party-atmosphere-killer) was released in 1962, and has been clawing its way out of the grave every year since. It’s been covered by maybe the most eclectic group of bands of any song ever (the Beach Boys, Bruce Springsteen, Vincent Price, Alvin and the Chipmunks, the Smashing Pumpkins and The Misfits, to name but a few), but the moldy old original is still the preferred classic.

Lord, did Shakira bless us with this song in 2009. A timeless classic, ‘She Wolf’ is sexy, spooky and danceable all at once – and it’s giving Halloween in every way. The ultimate scary banger for your Hazza Party Playlist, ‘She Wolf’ will have the dancefloor filled with people screaming ‘there’s a she-wolf in the closet’ at the top of their lungs and your mates necking off with each other in no time. Forget the party planning, Shakira’s got you covered. 

Arguably one of the original Halloween songs. Inarguably one of the greatest. Hawkins’s tune – which he claims to not remember recording – permanently added the Screamin’ to his God-given name. ‘Before, I was just a normal blues singer. I was just Jay Hawkins, (but) I found out I could do more destroying to a song by screaming it to death.’ He found out he could also do more if he appeared out of a coffin on stage in a black cape, tusks coming out of his nose, accompanied by a cigarette smoking skull sidekick named Henry. A rare remix by KCRW’s Jeremy Sole.

Rihanna’s 2008 classic still holds up as a Halloween banger. There’s even a horror movie-like scream in the first few opening seconds for maximum impact. Made famous by the earworm hook of ‘bum-bum-be-dum’, the song has an eeriness to it thanks to the twisting melodies and Rihanna’s verses of ‘It's a thief in the night to come and grab you / It can creep up inside you and consume you’. What she’s actually singing about is a mystery. But it’ll get you riled up and ready for a night of spookiness.

David Byrne’s feral yowl alone makes this hypnotic, eerie early Talking Heads classic a Halloween essential, but it's just the blood-red bow that ties ‘Psycho Killer’ together. The song – mathematically precise until it goes jaggedly out of rhythm – feels like it was wrested from the mind of a particularly melodious murderer, one with with a tendancy to slip unexpectedly into French or a huge suit depending on the mood. 

If Rockwell (real name Kenneth Gordy, son of Motown founder Berry) shivered at Big Brother's glare in 1984, one can only imagine what he'd make of the Internet age, where the government, news media and rogue hackers are all equally likely to be keeping tabs on you. The ‘Thriller’-esque hook comes courtesy of Rockwell’s buddy Michael Jackson, a good dude to have on speed-dial, though I’m not sure how much help he’d be if you're looking for someone to check for monsters in the closet.

‘Goo Goo Muck’ has always been a Halloween banger, but it’s had a massive resurgence in the last year as the backtrack to Jenna Ortega’s iconic dance (which she apparently made up herself) as Wednesday Addams in the Netflix horror series ‘Wednesday’. Whether or not The Cramps planned for this rock ’n’ roll banger to be a Halloween go-to, it’s long-since been considered one, with its lyrics of turning into a Goo Goo Muck (whatever that is) when the sun goes down and hunting out people to eat. And Wednesday Addams? She’s cemented it, we’re afraid.

There are at least two Time Out New York editors who believe that the part of this 1984 classic where Parker ecstatically croons, ‘Bustin’ makes me feel good!’ is the single-greatest piece of music ever recorded (and they will fight you over this opinion). Huey Lewis actually sued Parker over the song’s similarity to his ‘I Want a New Drug,’ probably because he was jealous of how much better “Ghostbusters” is.

Hard to believe the original Ramones are all dead. By 1989, the punks’ career was nearly six feet under. But this toe-tapping title track from a hit horror film, a bite-size Snickers with a metal shard inside, put the New Yawkers back on MTV, introducing a new generation to the leather-wrapped Phil Spector fanatics who looked like motorcycle zombies. If only Stephen King’s resurrecting graveyard were real – we miss these buffoons.

Doja Cat has always been a bit of a spooky bitch – in the best way possible, of course. But probably no track sums up the star’s knack for artistic uneasiness than her 2023 song ‘Demons’: which waved goodbye to the sickly pink pop of ‘Say So’ and said hello to reverberating bass, shrieky vocals and jagged synths. This is a choppy rap track which juxtaposes child-like lyrics with shouty rasps in a way that’s catchy and sinister all at once. It’s the perfect song for a Halloween party with sass: turn the bass up on your speakers and get freaky.

Donovan never explains quite what he means by a ‘season of the witch’ in this five-minute foray into ominous psychedelia, from the British singer-songwriter’s 1966 album, Sunshine Superman. But a shiver of paranoia runs through the song’s depiction of identity flux (‘So many different people to be’) in a world gone topsy-turvy (‘Beatniks are out to make it rich’), and the guitar part – played by a pre-Zeppelin Jimmy Page – adds welcome notes of acid.

Is there really a better song to slip into a blood-red dress and waft around like a ghoulish waif to? Not only is it one of the greatest tracks of all time, but ‘Wuthering Heights’ is also the perfect tune to soundtrack any spooky evening. Telling the tale of Cathy’s ghost scratching at Heathcliffe’s window, this track is mournful, melancholy and the literary references are just the cherry on the perfectly constructed cake. The tinkling piano might be more suggestive of fairies than witches, but Kate Bush’s ghostly wailing is enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.

‘I’m not like other guys,’ Michael tells his girl at the beginning of the greatest video ever made, from arguably the greatest album ever made. Did we realize how prescient that statement would be in 1982? So much of ‘Thriller’ shouldn’t work – MJ is a doll, 71-year-old Vincent Price raps, and it’s six minutes long. But together, it’s ballsy genius, riding on an insistent, funky Minimoog bass line. ‘I wish to stress that this film in no way endorses a belief in the occult,’ Jackson wrote concerning the video. No, but the Elephant Man bones and chimp did.

On this deep cut from 1966’s A Quick One, John Entwhistle leads the bass-heavy charge in a song precision-calibrated to get under arachnophobes' skins. Roger Daltrey performs some signature vocal acrobatics, too, growling the song’s title at the chorus before pulling off a manic falsetto to repeat the words ‘creepy crawly” over and over again in a whirling dervish of playful menace… just in case the lyrics had somehow been construed as subtle. 

French 1970s musical icon Marc Cerrone created this frightening (for then at least) vision of a not-too-distant sci-fi future where escaped mutant creatures created in a lab to end human starvation have rebelled against their makers to disastrous effect for all. Basically sci-fi disco for the Studio 54 set, this track is the greatest statement on that brief genre. Period. The video (and album artwork) are also stone-cold classics. Ask your parents.

Shock-rock pioneer Alice Cooper could single-handedly populate this list with tracks like ‘Feed My Frankenstein’ and ‘Billion Dollar Babies,’ but ‘Welcome to My Nightmare’ is in a class all its own thanks to its stabbing horn accompaniment and Cooper's skin-crawling delivery. The original’s a horror-rock masterpiece, but seek out the version Cooper performed with a chorus of Muppets, a combination of pop-culture misfits that’s too delicious to skip. 

Funny how time tames horror. In 1981, the Misfits seemed genuinely scary. In hindsight, they’re as dangerous as a Scooby Doo mystery. But, great Beelzebub, what fun! ‘Candy apples and razor blades! / Little dead are soon in graves!’ croons Glen Danzig, somewhere between an Elvis impersonator and an amateur MMA fighter. ‘Skulls’ might better spook the kids today, but this noir pop is on-point – like Jerry Only’s hair.

This cartoon troupe remains the greatest evidence of Damon Albarn's spliff habit. A bonus cut from the band's 2001 debut, ‘Dracula’ conjures voodoo vibes with a deep dub groove. ‘Everybody, party time. Some of us will never sleep again,’ Albarn sings, staring down the dawn with bloodshot eyes. An all-night bender is the closest thing we have to feeling undead.

Calling someone (ahem, Zack Bia?) a blood sucker and a fame fucker is pretty inspired. And that’s not even the best part of Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘Vampire’. An epic pop song split into three parts – making it Gen Z’s equivalent to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ – this is an explosive exploration into heartbreak, failure and full-on rage. The girlies are all set to be screaming ‘you sold me for parts’ and ‘you sunk your teeth into me’ this year, and while we aren’t all rich, famous and conventionally beautiful ex-Disney stars, we can relate to this experience.

Of course, we could’ve put together an entire list of Nick Cave songs to score your Halloween shindig, but instead we're choosing Cave’s singularly most creepy cut. A smoldering slow-burner, ‘Red Right Hand’ appears on 1994’s Murder Ballads album and lifts its title from John Milton’s Paradise Lost epic poem – which refers to the supposedly vengeful hand of God. It’s been used in all three Scream movies, such is its spook-factor. Show off your vampiest moves on the dance floor as you shimmy along to its rumbling drums, clanging bells and Cave’s sinister lyrics.

Theo Keating a.k.a. DJ Touché a.k.a. Fake Blood a.k.a. formerly the Wiseguys a.k.a. half of the Black Ghosts a.k.a. a guy who knows his horror. This cut is just one in a long list for someone who's had more than 20 years to rack up quite a few proverbial ‘kills.’ It’s the title track of his EP (alongside other funky frighteners ‘Zombies’ and ‘Spectres’) on Fatboy Slim’s Southern Fried Records.

’Ye may be a bit of monster himself these days, but this 2010 track still thrills thanks to its roster of immense guests: Jay-Z, Nicki Minaj, Rick Ross and Bon Iver (because why not?). The gang name-checks nightmarish images at every turn – blood suckers, goblins, the Bride of Chucky – and dishes out a healthy helping of Haterade to critics and skeptics, but it’s the funky groove and sick rhymes that’ll raise the goosebumps (in a good way). Some of us (not naming names) may even like to pretend we’re Nicki Minaj sometimes and spit the Harajuku Barbie’s verse (the best one of the bunch) in the privacy of our apartment.

Elfman honed his signature horror-tinged musicality with Oingo Boingo, but unleashed it full force on this banger that leads off The Nightmare Before Christmas with jingle-jangle lunacy as a chorus of ghouls pulls a roll-call for the playful horrors to come. It’s a kids' song full of bloodthirsty clowns and whispery vampires, all of whom come together for a chant of the song’s title, all but cementing it in the Halloween canon. 

The Femmes took a break from their stripped-down folk-punk bubblegum mania and teenage angst for this truly spooky country number in which a deranged farmer confesses to drowning his daughter in a well. Chipper stuff from the ‘Blister in the Sun’ tri! But the combination of Gordon Gano’s nasal wailing, the Southern gothic vibes, and the doomy baseline make for an unlikely bone-chiller. 

Bela Lugosi died in 1956. Informing people of his demise in 1979 was strictly the concern of the most archetypal of goth bands, Bauhaus. Goth is a cocktail best served as equal parts glamor and nihilism. Singing about Dracula is metal. Singing about the Hungarian star of the silver screen who played him is goth. The ticking dirge was used fabulously in The Hunger, in the coolest opening sequence of ’80s cinema, a montage of sex, jump cuts, drugs and Bowie. At last, frontman Peter Murphy was a vampire in the movies.—

Another from The Cramps on our list, these rockabilly goths were always a B-movie for your ears, so it was inevitable that Lux Interior and Poison Ivy would end up on the soundtrack to a campy slasher flick. In 1985, Return of the Living Dead popularized the notion of zombies chomping brains. In the movie, a bunch of punks battle the undead—but the Cramps have a hard time choosing a side. When Interior sings ‘Run run run run!’ it sounds just like a chain saw itching to rip through necrobiotic flesh. But in the end, he makes it seem more fun to be one of the rotting.

If you can’t commit a bit of sacrilege at Halloween, then when can you? We're choosing Echo and the Bunnymen’s 1987 version of this song over the Doors’ original, partly because this cover soundtracked cult ’80s vampire movie The Lost Boys (a Halloween must-see), but also because it kicks ass with its dramatic pauses, spooky piano flourishes and – oh! – that ending.

Long before Metallica’s ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ brought the menacing sound of church bells to metal, AC/DC used them to announce the arrival of this sinister little number. Does it sound exactly like every other AC/DC song? Of course it does. But with church bells, so you know it’s spooky. 

Art Department, which is now just No. 19 boss Jonny White going solo – but at the time also included Canadian house legend Kenny Glasgow – linked up with the ghost of Seth Troxler–past on ‘vocals.’ It's not until halfway through this face melter that it dawns on you that the title may be a double entendre that you’re not sure you completely get.

If you’re looking for something to set the mood, throw on this 1973 track and watch everyone’s hair stand on end. At least, everyone who’s seen The Exorcist. What could have been a beautiful orchestral piece is instead insidiously and inextricably tied to images of projectile vomit and bloody crucifix masturbation. Oh well, happy Halloween!

A lovely (re: horrifying) companion to ‘Tubular Bells,’ Italian avant-garde/prog-rock/jazz outfit Goblin’s score for Dario Argento’s fever-dream horror Suspiria is the stuff of musical nightmares and a hell of a mood setter… especially if you want to mood to veer closer to ’Seventh Circle of Hell’ than ‘Monster Mash.’ With creepy whispers of ‘witch’ and its never-ending loop of bells undulating between hypnotic and chaotic, it’s a dreamlike plunge into darkness. So, um, who wants to bob for apples?

Somewhere between Brecht and Weill’s ‘Mack the Knife’ and Bret Easton Ellis’s American Psycho lies Warren Zevon’s silly-witty 1978 novelty hit about everyday monsters. Over an irresistible three-chord piano riff, Zevon’s gift for dark comedy expresses itself in lyrics that swipe their claws slyly at the banality of horror – ‘I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic’s / And his hair was perfect ’ – but the droll wolf-call refrain (‘a-hooooooooo!’) makes you want to give up and join the pack.

Blue Öyster Cult's death song, a creepily seductive exhortation to go gently into that dark night, became an instant rock classic when it came out in 1976, and has been a staple of horror culture ever since, notably in Halloween and Scream. (Its unconventional percussion also inspired a beloved Saturday Night Live sketch, with a shaggy Will Ferrell cavorting in an undersize tee and Christopher Walken barking ‘I gotta have more cowbell, baby!’) BOC’s lead singer and guitarist, the colorfully named Buck Dharma, insisted that the song was not about a romantic suicide pact, but it’s hard to know how else to read lines like ‘Romeo and Juliet are together in eternity... We can be like they are.’ The velvet sheath of Dharma’s mellow vocals doesn’t cover the scythe.

According to Will Smith, Freddy Krueger is a David Letterman fan who's ‘burnt up like a weenie’ and weirdly wears the same hat and sweater every day, even when it's hot out. The 1988 track stacks Smith's story of his encounter with ‘Fred’ over a hip-hopified mix of A Nightmare on Elm Street's theme song, making for a party-friendly (if rather long-winded) ghost story.

Rob Zombie’s full-throated embrace of souped-up hot rods, dead bodies and classic monsters came to a head with this shredding classic of the ’90s horror-core revival, a cheesy, rollicking slice of post-industrial rock that somehow found its way onto mainstream radio stations and into the hearts of mall goths everywhere. Yeeeeah.