
Digital Spy's Best Albums of 2014
La Roux, Sam Smith, Taylor Swift, Royal Blood... who is top of our list?
Published: December 07, 2014 10:00
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Taylor Swift\'s \'80s-inspired fifth studio effort is her first \"official pop album,\" with heavyweights like Max Martin, Shellback, Ryan Tedder, and Jack Antonoff helping construct a sleeker, glitzier sound. \"Shake It Off\" mimics \"Hey Ya,\" OutKast\'s own pledge of allegiance to populism, and echoes of Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, and Belinda Carlisle can be heard throughout. *1989* is a juggernaut, as brash and brilliant as the lights of Times Square.

The first time that Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher played in a room together as Royal Blood, the noise they created was so ferocious that it made frontman Kerr burst out laughing in astonishment. “How can we be this loud with just bass and drums?” they wondered. “From the first note, it was just like this energy exploded in the room,” Kerr tells Apple Music. “I was just like, ‘Oh my god, this sounds so good.’” It was a sentiment shared across the globe over the next year and a half as the pair’s blend of heavy riffs, bluesy licks, pummeling drums, and anthemic choruses earned their 2014 debut a Mercury nomination and made it one of the biggest British rock albums of the decade. It was a surreal period for Kerr and Thatcher, who knew their music was connecting on a huge scale—not just because of lofty chart positions and a rapidly growing diehard fanbase, but also because of the rock icons watching on from the crowd. Jimmy Page, Muse, and Metallica were among those who turned up to witness Royal Blood’s blistering live show in those early days, performances that prompted Rage Against the Machine’s Tom Morello to tweet, “I’ve seen the future of riff rock and its name is #RoyalBlood.” “It made us realize how small the rock community had become, because it meant that we were flying a flag for something that wasn’t really being represented either very well or by anyone that has actually had success,” says Kerr. The torch had been passed. Royal Blood’s debut heralded the arrival of a brilliant rock talent. Kerr and Thatcher guide us through it, track by track. **Out of the Black** Mike Kerr: “It seemed like the ultimate entrance. I was thinking of ‘Killing in the Name’—if that’s your opening statement, it’s just so bold. We were actually in the middle of writing ‘Loose Change’ when we wrote it. The beat was an alternate beat to ‘Loose Change.’ There was a moment where I was tuning, or doing something, and Ben was rehearsing it on his own. And I just copied what he was doing. Because of the way we were writing in the room together, it just felt very immediate. It was so heavy. And so simple and dumb. It’s the simplest riff we have. I think it’s really important to have a song on your first record that says, ‘This is who we are.’” Ben Thatcher: “It’s in your face. As soon as the first beat hits, you know it’s Royal Blood.” **Come On Over** MK: “This was a song I’d always done at open mic nights, which is really how I started singing. I would get really, really drunk so I had the confidence to get out and do it. I would try and impress a girl that was there, and probably fail. ‘Come On Over’ was a sort of bluesy song that I had, and when we were making the record, we put it into the way we were playing songs and it fit perfectly. It was very bluesy, but it had a metal thing to it as well. Everyone who’d seen me play it at open mic night would say they really didn’t like the version that I did in Royal Blood. They said, ‘Oh, you should keep it acoustic. It sounded really cool. And now you’ve ruined it.’” **Figure It Out** MK: “Again, this was a tune that was always in my back pocket. It was sort of written, or at least finished, live. It was always in pieces and the music was the bit that was always established. I never really knew what I was going to do on the vocals, so I would always ad-lib. I would just put so much delay on my vocals that you couldn’t hear what I was saying because I never had lyrics. I would just mumble. That wasn’t a rarity. We’d sometimes go out and play festivals with songs that weren’t finished. The song gives up on itself after the second chorus, and just sort of goes off into this other thing. I realize now it’s something we do a lot. It’s almost like a signature move.” **You Can Be So Cruel** MK: “I think this started off acoustically. It’s very inspired by Goldfrapp, who I love. We were thinking about what kind of rhythms and feel we didn’t have on the album. We were like, ‘We should have one that does that swung thing, that glam thing.’” BT: “The ending is the same thing as ‘Figure It Out’ and you can tell it’s come from a batch of songs written around the same time, because...” MK: “We get to the second chorus and just do another riff...” BT: “Exactly.” **Blood Hands** MK: “I actually started this when I was picking up weed, when you have to linger around a stranger’s house. I’d get way too stoned, and I’d listen to this guy playing his songs and they were really, really bad. While he was rolling this massive joint, I started playing this. It’s why it’s so stoned, that intro, it’s just like one note. For the lyrics, I was just really inspired by Jeff Buckley. I really didn’t know how to express myself honestly then. I was a lot younger and I hadn’t written that many songs. I wouldn’t say there’s a common lyrical theme that runs through the record, but I was born very religious and I was leaving that behind—that reveals itself time and time again. I’d gone through a breakup as well.” **Little Monster** MK: “This was born out of jamming together. I was listening to a lot of Them Crooked Vultures, and also we were really into that kind of ‘Foxy Lady’ real swung riff thing. I think Foo Fighters had just released *Wasting Light* and there’s a song on that called ‘Rope.’ I think I subconsciously had the chorus of ‘Rope’ in my mind. It’s not a rip-off, but it’s the same feeling in the chorus.” **Loose Change** MK: “When we first started playing together in this band, I very much had my rock brain on. But Ben comes from a much more varied background and has a lot more of a hip-hop influence. This was a cool moment where it was Ben bringing music he loves, and grooves that I wouldn’t have thought of, into the band. We were really into Jack White as well. It felt like a hip-hop take on a Jack White tune.” BT: “It was quite a hard song to write. We were always searching for the chorus and one never really came. It has this break moment which I guess we would call the chorus now.” **Careless** BT: “Musically, this was the first one where Mike had some ideas for the sound of his guitars.” MK: “I put two guitar strings on the bass and tuned them up to whatever they could take. And it’s quite an unusual riff. You try and play that on a standard guitar, it’s like jazz. Because I tuned the strings in such a way, I was playing very simple shapes, but it created that melody. This song was like really born out of playing live and bouncing off each other.” **Ten Tonne Skeleton** MK: “We’d finished what we thought was the album and then our label and manager were like, ‘I think you need to come up with more songs,’ doing the intelligent thing of just pushing us further. But we were already on the road and were really busy. There was a lot of writing in hotel rooms and seeing if there was any scraps left over, things we could use to get songs going. This and ‘Better Strangers’ were the two songs we wrote and finished in the same session, just before Glastonbury 2014. I think we got to the point where we were so immersed in the world we’d created, and you know exactly what it is you’re chasing. Right at the end in the process you’re so well-versed in what you’re doing.” **Better Strangers** MK: “It felt like a natural end. I think we also liked the idea of the album being slightly chronological as well. There’s a natural progression.” BT: “We’d got more used to being in the studio by this time—knowing what protocol was, and what you do, and how to get those sounds. We just were a bit more experienced. Having been through gigging, and touring, we were a bit more confident in ourselves, so when it came to these last two, they just sounded a bit different.”

Five years have passed since La Roux owned the charts with \"Bulletproof,\" during which time vocalist Elly Jackson endured vocal problems and the departure of collaborator Ben Langmaid. Now she\'s released *Trouble in Paradise*, which, despite its ominous title, is full of vibrant, sun-splashed rhythms. Indeed, the rebooted La Roux was worth the wait. Whereas the group\'s debut succeeded on the strength of its icy throb and aggressive sentiments (\"I\'m going in for the kill!\"), *Trouble* proves that Jackson is human after all, infusing her sound with ska, reggae, and the exuberant \'80s pop of groups like General Public and Missing Persons. \"Kiss and Not Tell\" is effervescent electro, while \"Tropical Chancer\" features slinking guitars à la Nile Rodgers. Past and present collide on \"Silent Partner,\" a pulsing reminder that Jackson remains bulletproof when it comes to riling up a dancefloor.

Ed Sheeran’s 2011 debut album, *+*, introduced the world to an unassuming pop star. Sheeran, who cut his teeth sofa-surfing and playing gigs in pubs, was a relatable everyman: His tunes combined singer-songwriter melodies with slippery hip-hop rhythms, and his lyrics were imbued with recognizable references and down-to-earth imagery. Sheeran came across as the guy you saw perform at an open mic night, and felt compelled to buy a drink for afterwards—mainly because he *was* that guy. Even when *+* began selling millions of copies, Sheeran was still showing up at gigs wearing a lumberjack shirt, loose-fitting jeans, and chunky sneakers. He was dressing for comfort; as a result, he sometimes looked like he’d wandered onto stage by accident. That approachability is maintained on *x*, his 2014 follow-up. But peel back Sheeran’s modest take on pop, and there’s a quietly experimental thread running through the record—best evidenced on the wanton lead single, “Sing.” Producer Pharrell Williams draws Sheeran away from his nice-guy persona, adding snapping beats, sonar-like electronics, and a grooving rhythm guitar. “I want you to be mine, lady/And to hold your body close,” Sheeran spits on the verse, sounding like a tequila-soaked playboy. Then he slides into a seductive falsetto for the chorus: “If you love me/Come on, get involved.” Such subversion is repeated on “Don’t,” which finds Sheeran taking aim at an adulterous ex-flame, and “The Man,” which is Sheeran at his most bitter. Elsewhere on *x*, he’s seduced by the allure of hedonism (“Bloodstream”) and forced to confront familial trauma—which he does with empowered sassiness (“Runaway”). Sheeran doesn’t abandon his duties as a swooning balladeer, of course: “Photograph” is an aching meditation on the realities of a long-distant relationship, “Tenerife Sea” is a sensuous ode to a lover, and “Thinking Out Loud” remains Sheeran’s most romantic song, forever destined to soundtrack first dances at weddings. The album’s amalgam of adventurous and innovative musicianship with crowd-pleasing reliability now feel synonymous with Sheeran’s music. But it was *x* that first hinted at an artist willing to test the limits of what people expected from him.

Husky-voiced Englishman George Ezra has his work cut out for him if he wants to stand out from the pack of toothsome singer/songwriters that includes Vance Joy, Hozier, and Ed Sheeran, but \"Budapest\" is a great start: the tune is impossibly jaunty and deserved the international success it earned in 2014. His debut is similarly distinct. From the gutbucket bombast of \"Cassy O\" to the rock-steady beat of \"Listen to the Man\" to the rousing \'80s pulse of \"Stand By Your Gun,\" Ezra has a number of tricks up his sleeve, and they\'re not all mash notes, either. On \"Drawing Board,\" he fantasizes about killing a former paramour.

The story of London’s Bombay Bicycle Club is one of constant evolution: since their 2009 debut, the band have woven together elements of everything from wistful indie folk to crystalline math rock. The outfit’s fourth album is a warm, rewarding coalition of these pursuits, offering emotional, synth-driven rock complemented by richly textured samples, big synths, and the dizzying melodies of frontman Jack Steadman. A sampled Bollywood loop introduces the opener, “Overdone,” while the sweeping, R&B-inspired groove of “Home by Now” is anchored by cello and splices of digitally manipulated piano. The hypnotic percussion and eight-bit groove of “Feel” result in the album’s finest track, while “Whenever, Wherever” opens as a pensive ballad before adopting a driving dance beat. A fuzzy kalimba sample and polyrhythmic drumbeat close *So Long, See You Tomorrow*, finishing an entrancing ride.

The jungle is a wilderness, but London groove collective Jungle, led by Tom McFarland and Josh Lloyd-Watson, are masters of control. Everything is in its right place on their debut album, from the dance moves to the horn stabs, as they update \'60s soul (plus two-tone and trip-hop) with a crisp, modern touch. Aching falsetto tops off a spine-tingling mix of driving electric bass and swirling organs, while sirens and dub echoes make the noir nightscapes all the more vivid—seductive, but a little bit dangerous, too.

Sky Ferreira—a hugely talented pouty-lipped waif with an old soul—wrested what was to be her debut full-length away from her label and convinced them to grant her a do-over. The result was recorded in less than three weeks, then mixed and released in a whirlwind of alchemy. *Night Time, My Time* is an impressive and muscular collection. After a series of singles and EPs, Ferreira exudes her L.A. cool all over *Night Time*, from her nude photo on the cover to her edgy delivery. Her dusky throat and pop-be-damned attitude puts her squarely between artists like Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Icona Pop, swerving between an injured coo and a bad-kitty snarl with smooth deftness. Whether she\'s belting out the wistful ballad “24 Hours” or the stomping hissy fit “Nobody Asked Me,” there’s an appealing anthemic quality to these songs, written by Ferreira and a songwriting team that incudes producer Ariel Rechtshaid (Charli XCX, Usher, Haim). She strays into Madonna’s fertile territory on tunes like “I Blame Myself” and reaches into the icy underworld of ‘70s postpunk pioneer Alan Vega on “Omanko,” a clear measure of her intentions. The girl’s got it.

There\'s a long history of teens becoming pop stars after gaining fame on TV. What sets Ariana Grande apart from the Justins and Britneys of the world is her force-of-nature voice, which rivals Mariah Carey\'s in its strength and range. While Grande\'s first album was an R&B-pop effort helmed by Babyface, *My Everything* enlists almost *every* A-lister in music (Zedd, Iggy, Nicki, etc.) for an EDM&B hybrid that showcases the full breadth of Grande\'s talents. This is a perfect picture of pop in 2014, from the soaring Ryan Tedder–penned ballad \"Why Try\" to Zedd\'s Vegas-bright \"Break Free\" to the pulsing midtempo groove of \"Love Me Harder,\" featuring The Weeknd. Even One Direction\'s Harry Styles gets a writing credit on \"Just a Little Bit of Your Heart.\" That Grande ably anchors such an all-star lineup is a testament to her gifts, not to mention her staying power.


Sia Furler’s sixth album immediately unveils its kinetic potential with the unreined anthem “Chandelier”. *1000 Forms of Fear* offers the artist’s most thunderous and frenetic sound to date, employing her powerful voice to punch through layers of tinny electric drums and glitchy synths. Sia teams with The Weeknd and Diplo on “Elastic Heart”, an uptempo electric ballad that uses a dizzying composition and polished harmonies to showcase both Sia’s talent as a songwriter and the album’s skilful production.


Selling more than a million copies in the U.K. and earning the pensive singer/songwriter a Mercury Prize nomination, Ben Howard\'s 2011 debut was no slouch—but it\'s his sophomore album that brings his talents into sharp focus. From the dub ambience and electric curlicues of the opener, producer Chris Bond judiciously flanks Howard\'s reedy tenor with light percussion and bright guitars. \"Rivers in Your Mouth\" sizzles like Springsteen\'s \"I\'m on Fire,\" and the skipping notes and vocal dips of \"She Treats Me Well\" recall Nick Drake. This is a thoughtful, meditative record, taking its time to create a uniquely melancholy mood.

*This Is All Yours* is replete with a mesmeric, album-opening “Intro” of revolving vocal snippets and the disarming, pre-halftime instrumental interlude “Garden of England.” It includes the mischievous guitar groove of “Left Hand Free,” the spectral, Bon Iver-like beauty of “Warm Foothills” and the Miley Cyrus-sampling hypnotics of “Hunger of the Pine.”

Singer/songwriter/guitar-shredder Annie Clark\'s fourth studio album as St. Vincent is, simply, her best yet. While her catalog is full of twists and turns, including 2013 David Byrne collaboration *Love This Giant*, this self-titled release is both audacious *and* accessible, a canny balancing of Clark\'s experimental leanings with her pop sensibility. Amid a flurry of sonic textures ranging from the clamoring horn section of \"Digital Witness\" to the subdued balladry of \"Prince Johnny,\" Clark critiques our technology-obsessed culture (\"Huey Newton\"), satirizes suburban ennui (\"Birth in Reverse\"), and shares about her love for her mother (\"I Prefer Your Love\"). Her anxieties laid bare, the songwriter asserts herself via pyrotechnic guitar riffs, rhythmic somersaults, and a wayfaring vocal range, resulting in a vertiginous set that\'s as dizzying as it is captivating.

While Ellie Goulding, Gwen Stefani, and John Newman enliven their respective Vegas club staples, and \"Summer\" contains one of the year\'s most grandiose synth crescendos, it\'s the curveballs that steal the show here. The opalescent \"Pray to God\" sounds more like a Haim song spiced up by Calvin Harris than vice versa, and \"Dollar Signs,\" featuring vocals by R&B young turk Tinashé, is a clever funk-EDM hybrid.


When *Lazaretto* roars to action with the sweltering, Hammond-driven rocker “Three Women,” Jack White is on familiar terrain, unleashing a supercharged, garagey blues riff that’s as archetypal as the theme. But when the “red, blonde, and brunette” ladies in question appear in a “digital photograph,” the anachronism is a striking reminder of White’s gift for recasting classic musical elements in arrestingly modern contexts. There are plenty of such moments on *Lazaretto*, like when the title track’s heavy bass rumble is augmented with a squall of 8-bit Atari noise *and* a vaguely Appalachian fiddle solo. Throughout, White’s brand of heated, high-powered blues-rock dominates, but he mixes things up with breezy, country-inflected charmers (“Temporary Ground”, “Entitlement”) and eerie, would-be spaghetti western themes (“Would You Fight for My Love?” “I Think I Found the Culprit”). The album’s best tracks, like “Alone in My Home” and “Just One Drink,” combine all of the above in a heady, hot-blooded, hook-oriented package.


FKA twigs’ first full-length album brims with spartan, icy songs that whisk between distorted R&B and ethereal pop. While twigs’ pristine vocals and sensual lyrics are the cornerstone, *LP1* showcases the kind of confident production and instrumentation that play easily alongside celebrated pop minimalists like James Blake. Album highlight “Pendulum\" sees FKA twigs dabbling in manipulated vocals, as wavering guitars and electric drums stutter-step intoxicatingly, while “Video Girl” finds her melodic falsetto fluttering over churning, wobbling synths and creaking percussion.

\"Ain\'t no going back now,\" sings Australian triple threat Iggy Azalea on the majestic opening track of the emphatically titled *The New Classic*. It\'s a good thing the rapper/singer/model has such resolve; her debut album faced long delays as she navigated the major-label maze. Having finally arrived, it posits Azalea as pop-hop\'s latest superstar: a nimble, catty rapper who sounds perfectly at home amid a panoply of club-destined bangers. Helmed by a who\'s-who of in-demand producers (The Invisible Men, The Messengers, Stargate), *The New Classic* is impossibly sleek, its beats revved up and zooming like a Ferrari down Rodeo Drive. \"100,\" a slinking guitar groove produced by and featuring the Atlanta trap trio Watch the Duck, includes Azalea running down her shopping list: \"No Michael Kors, just Tom Ford.\" She invites haters to \"walk a mile in these Louboutins\" on \"Work,\" a trap anthem that describes Azalea\'s hardscrabble background: \"Sixteen in the middle of Miami, no money, no family.\" Clearly she\'s come a long way.

Vocalist/songwriter Katy B culled through more than 40 songs for the follow-up to her Mercury Prize–nominated 2011 debut, *On a Mission*, and the result is a vibrant collection of dance-oriented pop with remarkable emotional depth. Produced primarily by frequent collaborator Geeneus, *Little Red* is filled with peak-hour sounds—offering everything from the bristling house of the aptly named “5 AM” to the techno-influenced throb of “I Like You”. But there’s more to Katy B than dance floor domination: “Crying for No Reason” is a soaring ballad that nods to classic Madonna, the duet with Jessie Ware (“Aaliyah”) offers a jealousy-fueled clubland psychodrama while the seductive melody of “Everything” is a subtly crafted, deliriously catchy highlight.

Following the lead of his breakthrough single \"Coma Cat,\" which rang in 2010 with a head rush of heated dance hooks, the timing of Tensnake\'s debut LP couldn\'t be better. Arriving at the tail end of a long, unforgiving winter, *Glow* does just that: it lights up living rooms like a hangar-sized mirror ball, leaving a trail of neon-streaked house, disco, and pop in its wake. Tensnake isn\'t afraid to admit his influences, either. The producer makes a point of mocking the elephant in the room on \"Ten Minutes,\" an interlude featuring a fake dubstep fan who just wants \"something hard,\" not \'80s-indebted \"let\'s wear a tanktop\" music. Good luck finding any of that here. Actual dynamics prevail instead, whether they\'re captured through the Chic-like basslines of Nile Rodgers (\"Love Sublime,\" \"Good Enough to Keep\"), soul-bearing samples (\"No Colour,\" \"Holla\"), a euphoric collaboration with Jamie Lidell and Jacques Lu Cont (\"Feel of Love\"), or the revelatory vocal range of Fiora, a Tasmanian singer who\'s featured on six tracks.

Following the liquid beats of his 2010 breakout, *Swim*, Caribou’s Dan Snaith has fallen further in love with the dance floor. In his entrancing follow-up, *Our Love*, Snaith blends house, hip-hop, garage, and vintage soul. On “Can’t Do Without You,” Snaith flips a slowed-down soul sample into a vocal mantra that eventually bursts amidst rave-ready synths, while on late highlight “Mars,” he mixes intricate drum patterns, hip-hop samples, and one very nimble flute melody.

Louisa Rose Allen—the singer/songwriter behind the moniker Foxes—combines intimacy with melodrama on her debut album, *Glorious*. Building on a series of well-received EPs and singles (as well as the GRAMMY®-winning success of “Clarity,” her collaboration with producer Zedd), *Glorious* takes inspiration from the oracular theatrics of Kate Bush and Florence Welch, filtered through an au courant electropop sensibility that keeps the beats rolling and the hooks indelible. Allen has the ability to seem both charismatic and vulnerable, lending songs like the gothic-tinged “Talking to Ghosts,” the propulsive “Echo,” and the stately “Count the Saints” a heart-tugging quality that shines through their widescreen production. More upbeat tracks like “Let Go for Tonight” and “Holding onto Heaven” flesh out soulful melodies with pounding pianos and tympanic percussion. What’s most appealing about Allen is her refusal to surrender to despair—“Youth” and “White Coats” find her snatching hope from the depths of melancholy as the music rumbles and soars around her. *Glorious* aims high and hits the mark from start to finish.
