20. BEN FROST
Secant
(Mute)
19. BLACK CAB
Supermädchen
(Remote Control)
18. TAYLOR SWIFT
Blank Space
(Big Machine)
17. DRUNK MUMS
Plastic
(Independent)
16. TOTAL CONTROL
Systematic Fuck
(Iron Lung)
15. RICH GANG FEAT. YOUNG THUG & RICH HOMIE QUAN
Lifestyle
(Young Money)
14. BOBBY SHMURDA
Hot N***a
(Epic)
13. THE STEVENS
Thirsty Eye
(Chapter)
12. ANGEL OLSEN
Lights Out
(Jagjagwuar)
11. CARIBOU
Can’t Do Without You (Extended Mix)
(Inertia)
10. TKAY MAIDZA
Switch Lanes
(Dew Process)
An apt title for an emerging artist consistently flashing stylistic dexterity, Switch Lanes showcases Adelaide MC Tkay Maidza’s formidable flow and capability to sing a hook, compounded by production from Gold Coast’s Paces. All in all, world class in the truest sense, solidifying Tkay’s candidacy as our first breakthrough international rap talent.
9. ILOVEMAKKONEN FEAT. DRAKE
Tuesday
(OVO Sound)
Emboldened by a Drake feature on the remix, Makonnen’s woozy ode to gettin’ lit on a weekday captured something special, a definitive and idiosyncratic sentiment that feels perfect in 2014, Makonnen’s wavering voice making for a gentle earworm. Cute, but undeniable. I honestly can’t remember the last Tuesday I haven’t listened to Tuesday, and I can’t see that stopping anytime soon.
8. LAURA JEAN
Don’t Marry The One You Love
(Chapter)
Laura Jean bounds along with cheery aplomb on Don’t Marry The One You Love, a plucky bass groove and grinning brushes on the snare. It’s all a smokescreen, of course, the song title isn’t an instance of down-and-out whiskey-soaked country balladry, but a sincere heed, a darkly missive guided by levity.
7. COLLARBONES
Turning
(Two Bright Lakes/Remote Control)
You can listen to Turning over a hundred times (I heartily recommend doing so) and it still doesn’t sound any less insane, a dizzying wet dream of race throwback grinding with subterranean sub-bass. It’s the future, it’s primordial. It’s a gosh dang good time.
6. THE HARPOONS
Unforgettable
(Two Bright Lakes/Remote Control)
An air of understatement breezes through the opening of Unforgettable, creeping with Burial fizz, guiding in Bec Rigby’s powerhouse vocals sans percussion. Then, bam. The crisp beat snaps in, the bridge, a hook unto itself, sideswipes, the chorus elevates to another level yet again. Magic. The track’s performance, imbued by backing vocalists, did what it says on the tin.
5. ALDOUS HARDING
No Peace
(Spunk)
The closing track on Aldous Harding’s stunning self-titled full-length is immediate in its rawness, alluding to a howling despair, all while constrained itself within a harrowing minimalism. Tension and heartbreak delivered in the most efficient manner.
4. JACK LADDER & THE DREAMLANDERS FEAT. SHARON VAN ETTEN
Come On Back This Way
(Inertia)
I’m guessing Jack Ladder likes the way his voice sounds when he says the word “piss”. He sings it on Hurtsville’s standout Dumb Love – “overtaking in the pissing rain”. It’s a good syllabic fit for his cadence. Anyway, I’m getting distracted. By piss. Come On Back This Way is triumphant, almost silly, jaunt, a soundtrack for a credits roll with an abrupt, ironic, but satisfying film that doesn’t exist.
3. SIA
Chandelier
(Monkey Puzzle/RCA)
In retrospect, it was a long time coming, but Sia has gone above and beyond in making a case for her standing as one of Australia’s greatest ever popsmiths, penning tracks for superstars including Riri and Queen Bey. Chandelier is retained for Sia alone, which is for the best, considering few vocalists worldwide could stick the landing on the godlike cry of the chorus’s stunning inflections.
2. TWERPS
Back To You
(Chapter)
The feel-great chorus of Back To You, one of the finest guitar-pop moments in 2014, invokes, and encapsulates, a potent sense of community – it’s easy to picture a montage of ol’-timey family units flicking on the wireless, eyes filled with glee, as singer Marty soars with “And it allllllll, keeps comin’ back to you”. It’s a release, arm in arm, that connection is all that matters, when it comes down to it.
1. LONTALIUS
Light Shines Through Dust
(Independent)
In which Kiwi virtuoso Eddie Johnston steps up with a touch of aural polish on his largely homespun, endearing and emotive solo project Lontalius for something truly spectacular, each line delivered like a reflexive mallet to the heartstrings. Devastating in its beauty, Johnston exhibits mastery in his craft, deft and measured, utilising sparseness as a tool, a benevolent weapon, even, of melancholy.
