Yacht Metal that makes you want to sip something citrusy on a fibreglass boat you definitely don’t own
Maybe it’s the synth pads that sound like they were recorded in a cloud. Maybe it’s the basslines that shuffle with the swagger of someone who’s just discovered linen pants.
Or maybe it’s the fact that every Yacht Metal/Yacht Rock song sounds like it was written to accompany a very expensive divorce in Malibu.
Born from the smooth soft rock sounds of the late ’70s and early ’80s, Yacht Metal (or more affectionately, Yacht Rock, though pedants will tell you there’s a distinction) has become both a punchline and a point of pride.
What started as the soundtrack to coke-fuelled yacht parties and FM radio slow dances now lives on in ironic playlists, HyperNormalised nostalgia, and the smirking resurgence of moustaches.
At its heart? A very specific kind of vibe: slick, studio-polished music that somehow feels both deeply uncool and relentlessly sexy. You’re not just listening—you’re reclining.
Who’s On Board?
If Yacht Metal is a genre, it’s a tight crew.
Toto practically are the house band of this scene. With “Rosanna” and “Africa,” they proved you could mix impeccable session musician chops with lyrical absurdity and still have your song played at every wedding for the next forty years. The drums on “Rosanna” alone (the Purdie Shuffle, for the nerds) could captain a ship.
Michael McDonald, with his creamy falsetto and unironic sincerity, was the patron saint of the genre. Whether fronting the Doobie Brothers or backing up Steely Dan, his voice could melt ice cubes in a Scotch glass. His solo stuff? Pure luxury yacht.
Speaking of Steely Dan, they weren’t exactly Yacht Metal (too jazzy, too cynical), but they influenced everyone on board. Their 1977 album Aja is the sonic blueprint for what polished, grown-up music could be—equal parts genius and smug.
Hall & Oates, while more on the pop-soul spectrum, rode the yacht wake with ease. “Rich Girl” and “Sara Smile” are less about sailing and more about mood: smug lovers in pastel blazers leaning against a grand piano.
And then there’s Kenny Loggins, who managed to write half the songs on the Top Gun and Caddyshack soundtracks and still found time to be smooth as hell. “This Is It” is yacht to the core—morally uplifting, keyboard-forward, and delivered with a grim kind of optimism that only comes from a full tank of fuel and a broken heart.
Let’s take a lap around the deck at a few more:
Christopher Cross – The god-tier yachtie. “Sailing” is basically the national anthem of the genre—so smooth it’s practically liquid.
Ambrosia – Prog roots + soft rock polish = yacht essentials. “Biggest Part of Me” and “How Much I Feel” are peak champagne-on-ice tracks.
Boz Scaggs – With a voice like silk pyjamas and a band full of future Toto members, Boz brought serious groove with tracks like “Lowdown” and “Lido Shuffle.”
Player – Best known for “Baby Come Back,” Player perfected the lovelorn, falsetto-laced slow jam with a west coast sheen.
Little River Band – Aussie export with major yacht vibes. “Reminiscing” is pure polyester suit energy, in the best way possible.
Robbie Dupree – His hit “Steal Away” is often called a Christopher Cross knock-off, which honestly just makes it more yacht.
Pablo Cruise – Don’t let the name throw you—these guys served up laid-back California soft rock with just the right hint of disco sparkle.
Nicolette Larson – Female Yacht Rock? You bet. Her 1978 cover of Neil Young’s “Lotta Love” (produced by yacht master Ted Templeman) is absolute genre canon.
Jay Graydon / Airplay – Producer-guitarist Jay Graydon was behind so many yacht bangers (including Al Jarreau and George Benson), and his short-lived band Airplay is yacht gold.
Kenny Nolan – The lesser-known crooner who wrote “Lady Marmalade” and had his own yacht-flavoured hit with “I Like Dreamin’”—a dramatic softie staple.
Why Now?
Yacht Metal has found a second life, thanks in part to the internet, curated Spotify playlists with titles like “Smooth Sailing,” and the always-ironic-but-kind-of-serious resurgence of soft masculinity. In a post-irony world, the clean, expensive sound of Yacht Rock is a palette cleanser—a sonic piña colada after too much doomscrolling.
It also helps that today’s artists are dipping their toes into the harbour: Thundercat, Drugdealer, even Tame Impala at times—there’s a sheen and softness that suggests they’ve spent some time in the cabin with Christopher Cross and a well-aged Casio.
No One Asked for a Revival, But We’re Glad It’s Here
Sure, Yacht Metal might’ve started as a genre for aging boomers and midlife crisis playlists, but it’s now a floating monument to musicianship, absurd emotional honesty, and an era that truly believed in sax solos.
So next time someone rolls their eyes when you put on “Ride Like the Wind,” just smile knowingly. You’re not just listening to music—you’re piloting an emotional catamaran through the choppy waters of late capitalism, carried on the wings of a Yamaha DX7.
Float on, captain.
