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" There&amp;#039;s something curious about an artist who has proven potential to be one of the biggest stars in the world, but after years of working to breakthrough, now wants to remain out of the spotlight. While most have only come to know her work in recent years, Sia Furler has been courting popstardom since 1993.  During that time she released five studio albums - as well as performing on an episode of Home &amp;amp; Away (!!) - but it wasn&amp;#039;t until she found herself on David Guetta&amp;#039;s &amp;#039;Titanium&amp;#039; that proper, chart-topping worldwide recognition presented itself. By that time it was too late, though. The vocal for that particular hit was famously intended for Mary J Blige, until Guetta sneakily kept Sia&amp;#039;s demo take on the final album, much to her annoyance. Why? The Australian singer no longer has a desire to be famous after years of battling alcoholism and depression. As bleak as it sounds, it&amp;#039;s an artist&amp;#039;s most desolate hours that provoke the biggest emotional hooks, and when it comes to 1000 Forms of Fear, it&amp;#039;s what makes it all the more compelling and vulnerable. Sia&amp;#039;s ear for a simple but incredibly catchy melody balanced against her dark lyrics of pain and despair results in some of the year&amp;#039;s most stirring pop. &amp;#039;Chandelier&amp;#039; is a brooding skirmish; Sia&amp;#039;s voice breaking and bellowing at just the right moments over crisp clicks and a theatrical chorus as she combats her drunk demons. It strikes a place between the head and the heart, her raspy tone calling for help but the consequences self-inflicted. It&amp;#039;s truly powerful stuff that is made all the more remarkable wrapped up in Greg Kurstin&amp;#039;s gleaming pop sheen.      It&amp;#039;s a formula the pair execute consistently well throughout 1000 Forms of Fear. &amp;#039;Big Girls Cry&amp;#039; is Grade A balladry that plays out the familiar breakdown of a relationship caused by career success. It forces Sia into an aphotic shell, but that barrier is soon broken down on &amp;#039;Dressed In Black&amp;#039;, the song reaching a crescendo of purgative ad-libs. The deepest moments are tense, but it makes the lighter numbers even more savory. When Sia picks up the pace - like on the beach-pop bop of &amp;#039;Hostage&amp;#039; with its jaunty guitar lines and lyrics of being held captive by the love for her beau - her elation is welcome appeasement.  Elsewhere, &amp;#039;Free The Animal&amp;#039; is a prowling anthem awash with glitches and stuttering beats, while &amp;#039;Elastic Heart&amp;#039; - originally used to soundtrack Panem&amp;#039;s Hunger Games - is a mountainous duet with The Weeknd that hears their voices blend seamlessly, as her smoky inflection underlies his flying falsetto. Despite spending the past four years writing hits for Rihanna, Katy Perry and Beyonc\u00C3\u00A9, among numerous others, 1000 Forms of Fear proves that Sia certainly hasn&amp;#039;t lost her own voice in the process. It may have returned more polished and with a larger following, but lyrically she has refused to hold anything back.  For an artist who continually attempts to avoid the public eye, her material feels more revelatory now than ever - and just when she decides she doesn&amp;#039;t want to be famous, she has recorded the best album of her career.  Tracks to download: &amp;#039;Chandelier&amp;#039;, &amp;#039;Big Girls Cry&amp;#039;, &amp;#039;Free The Animal&amp;#039; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.digitalspy.com/music/album-reviews/review/a582030/sia-1000-forms-of-fear-album-review-some-of-the-years-most-stirring-pop/>