15 songs to keep everyone happy on Thanksgiving

There are a whole bunch of versions of this song, and most of them are pretty good. (That’s often the case when a song is as solid as this one.) But with respect to Todd Rundgren and Erykah Badu, I’d place The Isley Brothers’ 1974 rendition into my family dinner playlist. This version slows the original down, allowing you to relish the added harmonies. Like a lot of the tracks on this list, the lyrics are nominally about romantic love, but are open enough to complement this situation; for my money, “it’s important to me that you know you are free/’cause I’d never want to make you change” is one of the kindest things you can say to someone in your family, whether biological or chosen. [Drew Gillis]

For better or worse (I tend to think better), that Big Little Lies scene where Reese Witherspoon and Adam Scott dance to Leon Bridges in their kitchen permanently altered my taste in dinner music. In the best possible way, the Texas-based crooner’s voice really does have the power to transform any gathering of friends and loved ones into a scene an HBO character would wistfully look back on while remembering How Things Used To Be. If you’re like me and have completely worn out “The River” (the BLL song), try cueing up a selection from either Texas Moon or Texas Sun, Bridges’ two-EP collaboration with equally atmospheric outlet Khruangbin. “Mariella,” an ode to the kind of love that never really fades, is a perfect choice to soundtrack your meal—both in the present and in your own memories one day. [Emma Keates]

Disney alums Aly & AJ have leaned into a Laurel Canyon sound in recent years, making the kind of easy-listening lite rock that makes for a perfect dinner party soundtrack. This album opener (from 2023’s With Love From) also has shades of Springsteen in the plinking keys and crooning vocals. “Open To Something” radiates a welcoming warmth that would be well suited for cozy kitchens or after-dinner slow dancing (and hey, you could put on “Slow Dancing” next while you’re at it). And the lyrics work well if you’re having a classic, lightly tipsy holiday: “I poured a glass of wine/And I’m savin’ some for you/’Cause, baby, if I’m drinkin’/Then I want you drinkin’ too.” [Mary Kate Carr]

Another sister duo (formerly trio) for the playlist, The Staves have lots of quietly affecting music in their catalog that would work for dinner party music. Sorry for going with the one that declares “I don’t say it, but I feel it/Is it because I’m, because I’m English”, but are you going to tell me you don’t have any repressed feelings at your Thanksgiving table? Jokes aside, this track from their latest album All Now is awash with nostalgia for the past, but also for the present. Oddly, some of the lyrics feel a lot like how the holidays do when you transition into adulthood: “Don’t burn the house down, don’t lеt the kids out/You run the show now, yes, you own thе house.” Reflecting on the rose-colored magic of past memories and hoping that the ones you’re making in the present moment are equally magical (and, let’s be honest, worrying that they might not be) is baked into the holiday like pumpkin pie. [Mary Kate Carr]

I’m not sure whether it’s because they’re one of the few bands we all agree on or just because of their seasonally appropriate name, but The Cranberries have always had a place in my family’s holiday rotation. “Warm” and “nostalgic” were two keywords for this Power Hour, and to me, “Linger” might just be the most nostalgic song ever written. Things can get dicey when distant family members gather around a table, but who could stay mad at their dumb uncle or idiot cousin while “Linger” is playing? Besides, when it comes to the good times—or just a really nice slice of pumpkin pie—the song is a great reminder to let that moment last a little while longer. [Emma Keates]

I don’t keep many Thanksgiving traditions. However, there is one must-listen every Turkey Day: Doug Sahm, Jerry Garcia, Leon Russell, and Friends’ legendary 1972 Thanksgiving Jam. The impromptu gig occurred on Thanksgiving Day 1972, coming together because the Grateful Dead had a day off in Austin and Doug Sahm knew a thousand songs. The set list is a cornucopia of covers, from the Rolling Stones to Little Richard to Merle Haggard, attracting a music-hungry crowd descending upon Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin for the unannounced performance. The Thanksgiving Jam harnesses the air of an unexpected reunion, a potluck of Americana and roots music, but Sahm carves the turkey. The sloppy, celebratory charms he brings to Charley Pride’s “(Is Anybody Goin’ To) San Antone” are a perfect soundtrack to feeling comfortable in mixed company, refilling drinks, and toasting to good times before leaving town. Sahm, the Dead, and their friends put together a hospitable thread and welcomed everyone to the table. [Matt Schimkowitz]

Is it cheating to pick a nostalgic and warm track because it’s inherently associated with a TV series? Maybe. But who cares if my pick is Carole King’s legendary “Where You Lead?” It’s forever etched as a delightful family song partly because of, yes, Gilmore Girls, where it was evocatively used to describe not only the show’s central mother-daughter relationship but also the complicated bond between Lorelai and her parents. Dysfunctional families who fight often but show up for each other as needed? Feels like Thanksgiving to me. Even if you’re not a GG fan, King’s simple yet mushy lyrics are resonant enough, whether she’s crooning about living in the suburbs instead of New York City for her man or stating that she’ll get on the next train to support her loved ones. Everyone enjoys it. Turn the chorus into a sing-along, I say. [Saloni Gajjar]

Any time is a good time to revisit this track from Sheryl Crow’s 1993 debut album Tuesday Night Music Club. But the raw scratch of her vocals and the simplicity of the acoustic guitar give “Strong Enough” a real autumnal feeling that can sneak right into this holiday soundtrack. This ballad isn’t necessarily thematically Thanksgiving-esque, but the folky ’90s rom-com vibe definitely hits on a dark November evening. This is for the moment of the night when you’re overcome with quiet melancholy, so you wrap yourself in a cardigan and stare wistfully out the window while the quiet clatter of dinnertime clean-up takes place behind you. Or you could just listen to it normally because it’s really, really good. Either way, you can’t go wrong! [Mary Kate Carr]

The adjectives my colleague Drew stressed in his callout for this Power Hour were “warm,” “nostalgic,” and “unobtrusive,” and this dusty gem delivers all of those vibes exceptionally well—and without a single lyric, no less. Ethiopian keyboardist Mergia sounds both virtuosic and sharply melodic here, as his backing band lays down a circular, sunny-day groove that doesn’t tire. Every track on the 1978 album Wede Harer Guzo, which was released on vinyl for the first time by Awesome Tapes From Africa in 2016, is a stunner—suitable for backyard or, in this case, familial hangs—but this is the song that will get even that uncle you kind of can’t stand to lean over the table and ask, “Wait, who is this?” [Tim Lowery]

There aren’t many songs that are explicitly about Thanksgiving. One of the few that is usually counted in that category, “Turkey Lurkey Time,” from Burt Bacharach’s 1968 musical Promises, Promises, is actually about an office Christmas party in its original text. Regardless, Bacharach’s ’60s sound—chic and urbane, with a healthy dose of corniness—is suited to soundtrack a meal with a variety of tastes. Originally written about the Vietnam War, “What The World Needs Now” has a message so simple—the world needs more love—that it borders on treacly. (The mountains, rivers, and meadows the song says will last until the end of time may not—perhaps Bacharach and Hal David were too optimistic in 1965.) But the 1967 solo version prioritizes the instrumentals; the best score for a meal where you might want to either lean in or tune out. And hey, if there was ever a season for wearing your heart on your sleeve, this is it! [Drew Gillis]

The tones of Mary Lou Williams’ rendition of “It Ain’t Necessarily So” easily fit the “warm” criteria for this Power Hour. But the track is also desperately cool in the way that 1960s Dave Brubeck sounds. At this point in her career, Williams had gone from being simply interested in jazz to making Christianity a focal point of her work and going on to compose masses. Her rendition of this Gershwin classic, which still does have some biblical origins, is one of the less explicitly religious tracks from this body of work. Even so, listening to it may still convince you of a higher power. [Drew Gillis]

Oklou’s music is electronic, but the word that most often comes to mind when I hear it is “baroque.” The lyrics in “Galore,” about finding connection but having to do it through a phone screen, are both beautiful and melancholy, and complement the music’s blend of old and new, tradition and experimentation. Truth be told, it really doesn’t have all that much to do with Thanksgiving, but I like the way it sounds and would probably force my parents to listen to it if I was controlling the music at our dinner. Cross-generational appeal isn’t just about enjoying things from the generations before us; it’s about finding common ground in contemporary times, too. [Drew Gillis]

Father John Misty recently referred to the songs that make up his 2020 album Chloë And The Next 20th Century as “alternate-timeline American-songbook tunes.” It’s no wonder, then, that “Goodbye Mr. Blue”—a folksy ballad about appreciating the little things before it’s too late—feels so incredibly timeless. “Don’t the last time come too soon?” the singer-songwriter contemplates in the refrain of this yarn about his dying cat. Depending on your family dynamic, “Goodbye Mr. Blue” will either be a nice excuse to pull a gotcha on your snobby uncle who doesn’t think any good music has come out this century, or a reminder that you’ll really miss him—annoying quips and all—when he’s gone. [Emma Keates]

At this point in the evening, you’re probably feeling sinister or otherwise ready for a break from the “discussion” and stuffing—a palate cleanser, if you will. But if you can’t actually break away from family, Stuart Murdoch’s dulcet tones can still provide a sonic escape. Aside from its spot-on (especially for these purposes) title, the deceptively jaunty tune is full of longing and ennui, just like your adolescence, so you won’t even need to sneak into the attic to look at your old journals that are overflowing with the same. [Danette Chavez]

“My Baby Just Cares For Me” led to a resurgence for Nina Simone in the 1980s, and it’s not hard to see why; the tune radiates the low-key comfort and assured confidence that comes from being perfectly content with where you are and who you’re with. At its best, Thanksgiving is a homecoming, the chance to reconnect with family you might not see all the time or even usually get along with but are still breaking bread with. Maybe that sounds like the Norman Rockwell ideal of Thanksgiving, but hey, “My Baby Just Cares For Me” took off because of a perfume commercial. That doesn’t mean either of those things are any less affecting. [Drew Gillis]