We don’t talk about Sia enough—and maybe that’s the way she wanted it. Or at least, it was for a while. Because long before she was spinning around in wigs the size of Christmas wreaths or directing Maddie Ziegler through interpretive trauma gymnastics, Sia was quietly saving pop music from itself. And maybe saving us a little too.
Her voice—raspy, raw, unfiltered—cuts like a serrated knife through the Auto-Tuned landscape of glossy chart-toppers. But it’s her pen that holds the real power. Sia Furler is the ghost in the machine behind some of the biggest hits of the last two decades, and yet somehow, she still feels underrated. Maybe because she tried so hard not to be seen. Maybe because when she finally stepped into the spotlight, it was with a bow over her face and her middle fingers in the air. And honestly? We should’ve applauded harder.
Before the Spotlight: The Secret Queen of Pop Radio
Before you ever saw her face (or didn’t), you heard her words—belting through the radio, sung by other people. Rihanna’s “Diamonds”? That’s Sia. Beyoncé’s “Pretty Hurts”? That’s Sia too. Ne-Yo, Britney, Katy Perry, David Guetta, even Celine Dion—if they’ve had a major hit post-2007, there’s a decent chance Sia had her hands on it.
At her peak ghostwriting glory, she was pop’s fairy godmother, spinning heartbreak and hedonism into platinum. And while many artists can write a catchy hook, Sia writes hooks with haunt. There’s always something a little broken underneath the beat—a crack in the mirrorball.
“Chandelier”: The Pop Song That Sucker Punched Us All
When “Chandelier” dropped in 2014, it was both an anthem and a confessional. A power ballad disguised as a party song, about being drunk and hollow and clinging to the ceiling as your world crashes around you. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t polished. It was desperate. And it was brilliant.
The vocals weren’t pretty; they were primal. That chorus? It wasn’t meant to be sung, it was meant to be survived. It wasn’t your typical Top 40 fare—and that was the point. Sia wasn’t trying to make you dance. She was trying to make you feel it. Every line, every note, every breath she seemed to choke out was a lifeline thrown from the edge of a breakdown.
And for anyone who has ever tried to out-party their sadness, “Chandelier” felt like a mirror. A loud, shatterproof mirror.
“Elastic Heart” & The Armor We Wear
Following “Chandelier,” Sia gave us “Elastic Heart”—another song about pain, but this time about endurance. Emotional whiplash, but make it metaphorical. This wasn’t just about surviving a night. It was about surviving yourself. Your patterns. Your push-pull trauma bonding. The people who break you and the ways you keep crawling back.
And if “Chandelier” was a cry for help, “Elastic Heart” was a growl of defiance. “You did not break me,” she belts. “I’m still fighting for peace.” It’s Sia at her most vulnerable and most resilient—and it cemented her as not just a pop star, but a pop sage.
“Cheap Thrills” and the Reclaiming of Joy
Now let’s talk “Cheap Thrills.” A lighter offering, but still not lightweight. It’s the sound of Sia reclaiming her body, her joy, her autonomy. The lyrics are deceptively breezy—“I don’t need no money / As long as I can feel the beat”—but they mark a shift in tone. It’s not about escape anymore. It’s about presence.
Sia made a club track that wasn’t about seduction or showing off or flexing wealth. It was about finding freedom in your own skin. For someone who once couldn’t handle fame without alcohol and anonymity, that’s a massive flex.
Fame, Face, and the Power of Saying No
Let’s be real—Sia didn’t cover her face because it was a cute aesthetic. She did it because fame nearly broke her. After early struggles with addiction, bipolar disorder, and industry exploitation, she chose invisibility as an act of rebellion. In a world obsessed with the face in front of the song, she reminded us that maybe the song is enough.
She wasn’t hiding because she was shy—she was hiding because she was done being consumed.
And yet, even under a giant wig, she became impossible to ignore.
The Legacy of Sia: Anthem Maker, Rule Breaker, Soft-Spoken Giant
Sia has written for the biggest names in the world and never lost her own voice. She’s a songwriter’s songwriter. A vocalist’s vocalist. An artist who bled into every lyric, and who came out the other side covered in glitter and grit.
Her work isn’t just about catchy melodies or chart success. It’s about survival. About truth. About giving voice to the things we’re not always brave enough to say out loud. She’s proof that pop music can be beautiful and brutal. That pain can be an instrument. That anonymity can be power.
So next time “Chandelier” comes on, don’t just belt it—feel it. Because behind every scream in that chorus is a woman who’s been there. Who wrote the pain, lived the pain, owned the pain—and then turned it into platinum.
Now that’s power.