The Greatest Albums of 1984

It’s not a stretch to say that the genres of pop, rock, R&B and rap music all changed forever in 1984. In a decade racked with all-time classics and some of the most important songs in the history of modern music, 1984 remains rather undefeated. From Madonna’s chart-topping Like a Virgin to some of the greatest soundtracks ever made to the Replacements, Minutemen, the Cure and Cocteau Twins making some of the greatest records of their careers, it’s hard to argue with the 100s of albums that came out in the middle of the 1980s. Whether it was a catalog-defining entry or a show-stopping debut, the proof is undeniable.
We polled the Paste staff and writer cohort for this list, and we’ve opted to withhold live albums from the final ranking (sorry Stop Making Sense). With that, we’ve compiled our ranking of the 30 greatest albums of 1984.
30. Various Artists: Footloose: Original Soundtrack of the Paramount Motion Picture
Once upon a time, soundtracks were better than the films they were constructed for. That’s the case for Footloose: Original Soundtrack of the Paramount Motion Picture, which is 10x greater than the Herbert Ross-directed flick of the same name. While the movie gave us more Kevin Bacon (always a good thing) and a lot of dancing (just go to the next town over to dance if yours bans it, sheesh). The soundtrack, however, had six Top 40 hits, including the Kenny Loggins’s title track, Heart’s Ann Wilson and Loverboy’s Mike Reno’s duet “Almost Paradise” and Karla Bonoff’s “Somebody’s Eyes.” But, the single greatest thing the Footloose soundtrack gave the world was Deniece Williams’s “Let’s Hear It For the Boy,” a pop song so good it shouldn’t have been on a mid-tier movie’s soundtrack in the first place. Williams, who used to sing with a guy named Stevie Wonder in the 1970s, didn’t just make the best song on the album—she made one of the greatest synth-pop of the 1980s altogether. —Matt Mitchell
29. The Go-Go’s: Talk Show
The first Go-Go’s album, Beauty and the Beat, was a game-changer for pop-injected new wave (“Our Lips Are Sealed” is my personal pick for the best pop song of the 1980s). So, three years later, when the Go-Go’s took to Genetic Studios in England to record their third album, Talk Show, they had long existed as the one of the best all-woman rock bands of their generation (and maybe ever). While it didn’t have the cultural staying power of the Go-Go’s debut (and was a commercial disappointment, selling less than 500,000 copies), Talk Show is a wickedly fun 40 minutes—shouldered greatly by their Top 15 hit “Head over Heels,” which is one of the group’s all-time best tracks. But “Turn to You” and “Yes or No” are just as good, too, giving Belinda Carlisle the tools and swagger to go off and, in 1987, make her Platinum-certified solo album Heaven on Earth. —Matt Mitchell
28. Fad Gadget: Gag
The fourth and final album from Francis John Tovey—aka Fad Gadget—is one of the best experimental synth-pop albums ever made. Released in 1984, Gag was produced by Gareth Jones, who made a name for himself after working with Depeche Mode and Erasure. Gag is an industrial, avant-garde take on a sub-genre embellished by poppier, more digestible acts like the Human League and Soft Cell. Fad Gadget’s take on all of it was intriguing at the time, only to find a greater appreciation in the years since Tovey’s death in 2002. Gag implements arrangements that feature sound objects and a sarcastic, unabashed social commentary on everything from consumerism to queerness—hell, even the name Fad Gadget is a biting take on sexuality itself. Fad Gadget would often sing in a deadpan, monotone voice that’s still evoked by artists like Kirin J Callinan. Gag was a boundary-pushing, daring record that questioned what margins synth-pop and experimental electronic music belonged to. —Matt Mitchell
27. Run-D.M.C.: Run-D.M.C.
In the world ranking of power trios, the hip-hop titans from Hollis, Queens would most certainly be a top 5 contender. Run-D.M.C. broke copious amounts of new ground on their first album. On “Rock Box,” they set the stage for fellow New Yorkers like Beastie Boys and Public Enemy to blend slashing guitar riffs and street beats. They formalized the diss track on songs like “Sucker M.C.’s” and “Krush Groove,” and touched on social ills on the bangers “It’s Like That” and “Wake Up.” The call-and-response attack of rappers Run and D.M.C. set the template for the many groups that followed in their wake. But more than that, Run-D.M.C. proved hip-hop’s commercial power when it became the first record in the genre to achieve gold status. They helped the world see the potential of this still-nascent art form. —Robert Ham
26. Metallica: Ride the Lightning
In 1984, Metallica came close to perfection. Evolving beyond the scorched-earth thrash metal of their studio debut, Kill ‘Em All, the band introduced evocative acoustic interludes, heartfelt power ballads and the kinds of anguished, desperate lyrics about the consequences of violent transgressions that would define the rest of their career—ultimately leading them to create their later period masterpieces Some Kind of Monster and Lulu. Ride the Lightning is an epochal event, not only within the annals of Metallica (R.I.P. Cliff Burton), but within the annals of metal itself. —Jesse Locke
25. R.E.M.: Reckoning
Reckoning is a Southern jangle masterpiece with Peter Buck’s Rickenbacher constantly dancing around Michael Stipe’s melodies and the chugging rhythm section of Mike Mills and Bill Berry. The Big Star influence is still here, but with producers Mitch Easter and Don Dixon, the band took an incredible collection of songs (I mean, “Harborcoat,” “7 Chinese Bros.,” “Pretty Persuasion,” “Little America”…) and pulled them in new directions. The idea was to capture the live feel of the band (and ignore the I.R.S. reps looking for a commercial hit), and Easter and Dixon accomplished both. With “So. Central Rain” and “Don’t Go Back to Rockville,” they gave the world timeless hits if not Billboard ones. The Howard Finster cover perfectly captures a band of outsiders making the art they wanted to make. —Josh Jackson
24. Wham!: Make It Big
Arguably one of the greatest pop duos of all time, may we never forget how good of a run Wham! had from 1981 through 1986. And right smack dab in the middle of it all was Make It Big, an album so good it produced four of the best pop singles of 1984 altogether: “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go,” “Careless Whisper,” “Freedom” and “Everything She Wants.” The LP has been certified Platinum 21 times over the last 40 years, moving 18 million units across the globe and solidifying George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley as legends forever. Of course, Michael would go on to make a decade-defining classic in Faith a few years later, but Make It Big is the star-turn that made him a household name until his sudden passing in 2016. To this day, Steve Gregory’s saxophone part in “Careless Whisper” is recognizable by millions and millions, and “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” is pop perfection that never gets old. —Matt Mitchell
23. Spinal Tap: This Is Spinal Tap
Longtime fictional English band Spın̈al Tap spontaneously combusted onto the metal scene as the subject of 1984’s mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap. Armed with long hair, amps that go to 11 and a totally necessary umlaut, the band did such a hilarious (and also accurate) job of spoofing the heavy metal genre that they’ve become part of its actual lore. Much of the love and respect showered upon David St. Hubbins, Nigel Tufnel and Derek Smalls by the hard rock community stems from the fact that their jokes may be songs, but their songs aren’t jokes. Classics like “Big Bottom,” “Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight” and “Stonehenge” are designed to make us laugh, but they also aren’t any more ridiculous than the types of songs they lovingly send up. Hell, Soundgarden used to cover them. And that album cover… I mean, how much blacker could it be? None… more black. —Matt Melis
22. Laurie Anderson: Mister Heartbreak
Laurie Anderson’s second studio album is a fascinating collision of Western and non-Western musical instruments, intergenerational collaborators and artistic mediums. Alongside guest appearances from Peter Gabriel and William S. Burroughs, Anderson reworked elements from her stage performance piece United States Live, borrowed imagery from Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow for her lyrics and prominently featured a plucked 12-string Korean zither. As hoity toity as that might all sound on paper, Mister Heartbreak is an avant-pop album at its core—one that just so happens to subvert the concept of “genre.” —JL
21. Bronski Beat: The Age of Consent
Perhaps one of the most underrated synth-pop records of all-time, Bronski Beat’s The Age of Consent is one of the best projects from 1984. The London trio named themselves after bandleader Steve Bronski and struck gold on their debut album. Songs like “Smalltown Boy,” “Junk” and “No More War” are darkly pop tracks that center Jimmy Somerville’s haunting falsetto vocals. Titled in response to the age of consent laws towards queer people in England at the time, The Age of Consent is a retaliation against the stigma, violence and criminalized legislation leveled at gay people in the United Kingdom. Few synth-pop records were as revolutionary as Bronski Beat’s first effort, and how lucky we are to have gotten their magic up until keyboardist Larry Steinbachek’s death in 2016. —Matt Mitchell
20. The Pretenders: Learning to Crawl
The third Pretenders album is, in my opinion, on par with their instant-classic debut from five years prior. Learning to Crawl has one of the best lead singles of the decade (“Back on the Chain Gang”) and “2000 Miles,” one of Chrissie Hynde’s greatest ballads (and one of the greatest Christmas songs ever). Learning to Crawl was well-received across the board, earning raves from Rolling Stone, The Village Voice and Mojo, and it stands the test of time. The song I return to most often is “My City Was Gone,” Hynde’s autobiographical lament of her native Akron, Ohio, which had eroded as the Rust Belt’s industrial successes evaporated. “I was stunned and amazed, my childhood memories slowly swirled past like the wind through the trees,” Hynde sings with an ache in her swagger. Throw in a bassline from Tony Butler that’ll shake your skeleton, and it’s the exclamation point on a near-perfect outing from one of the best British-American outfits to ever tumble out of our stereos. —Matt Mitchell
19. Chaka Khan: I Feel For You
I don’t think enough people realize just how good Chaka Khan’s fifth solo album is. Even if every person in the world realized it, that still wouldn’t be enough. Khan took a turn here that embraced funk and rap in ways that turned her into even more of an immortal pop figure than her work in Rufus had the decade prior. The title track, a cover of Prince’s “I Feel For You,” featured a chromatic harmonica part from Stevie Wonder, Grandmaster Melle Mel as the MC and a sample of Wonder’s “Fingertips” that changed the alchemy of the Purple One’s original cut so much that the song is Khan’s now. She’d win a Best R&B Vocal Performance Grammy for the song, but it’s not the only masterful moment on I Feel For You. “This Is My Night,” “Eye to Eye” and “Through the Fire” are bangers that flirt with disco and embellish a new wave of dance that was ravaging the commercial splendors of the 1980s like a tropical storm. This is where Chaka Khan became, once and for all, the Queen of Funk she’s remained. —Matt Mitchell
18. U2: The Unforgettable Fire
As preposterous an idea as U2 arriving at the climax of their rock career in 1983 sounds, after releasing the lean single-heavy record War it’s easy to see how some critics and fans may have been let down when they first heard “A Sort of Homecoming,” the first track off the 1984 album The Unforgettable Fire. Featuring Brian Eno’s atmospheric soundscapes and an explorative song structure, the song and the album marked a big departure from U2’s hard-hitting post-punk roots. In this new era of MTV and New Wave pop rock, The Unforgettable Fire’s art-rock sensibility and lack of conventional singles sounded like a misguided disaster. Rolling Stone writer Kurt Loder even infamously accused the album of being diluted by a “misconceived production strategy and occasional interludes of soggy, songless self-indulgence.” Now commonly seen as the major turning point for the band, The Unforgettable Fire remains a daring piece of atmospheric rock music—an album whose adventurous production and songwriting would not only completely redefine U2 as a band, but also reshape the direction of rock music in the ’80s. —Luke Larson
17. Tina Turner: Private Dancer
Tina Turner’s career had been tossed on the nostalgia scrapheap after her falling out with husband and co-star Ike Turner. If not for a surprise hit with a cover of Al Green’s “Let’s Stay Together,” Turner never would have gotten the greenlight to record Private Dancer, and the music world would’ve been denied one of the great comeback stories of all time. The diamond album earned Turner three Grammys, and hits like “What’s Love Got to Do with It,” “Better Be Good to Me” and the title track became essential inclusions to any ‘80s playlist. Following Private Dancer’s success, Turner dueted with Bowie, co-starred with Mel Gibson and became the most successful female touring act of the 1980s. She sadly passed away in 2023, but the legacy of Private Dancer lives on and continues to demonstrate that, among other things, the Queen of Rock ‘n’ Roll didn’t need no king. —Matt Melis
16. The Cure: The Top
Not long after Robert Smith all but called for his band’s dissolution following shows supporting their dark tour de force to that point, Pornography, he decided he didn’t mean it—releasing the most accessible Cure songs to date (“The Lovecats,” “The Walk,” “Let’s Go To Bed”) with a rejiggered lineup. If you were to blend the synth-pop whimsy of what Smith called the “fantasy singles” and the haunting, druggy weight of the work that came before, you’d get the band’s subsequent album, The Top. Sandwiched chronologically between two commercial peaks, The Top’s chaotic flirtations with psychedelia have given it a bad rap critically. Yet, oddities like “The Caterpillar,” “Piggy in the Mirror” and “Dressing Up” stand up as some of the most memorable and strange moments in the group’s expansive catalog, never to be replicated. —Elise Soutar
15. Frankie Goes to Hollywood: Welcome to the Pleasuredome
The ultimate ‘80s dilemma would be to choose between the Thunderdome or the Pleasuredome. As much as I love Tina Turner, the infectious synths and unabashed sexuality of Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s magnum opus continue to have my heart. Welcome to the Pleasuredome is delightfully absurd and strangely addictive with the playful stings and adlibs of the title track, the delicious campiness of “Krisco Kisses,” and the hilariously catchy, euphemistic “Relax.” Yet all the outlandish quirks fade away for the earnest yet admittedly sappy “The Power Of Love,” showcasing the duality of the Liverpool dance-pop group as icons of the queer community in harmony with their eccentricity. —Olivia Abercrombie
14. Talk Talk: It’s My Life
London trio Talk Talk became household names with their song “It’s My Life,” the title track from their 1984 breakthrough, sophomore album. To achieve the glistening synthesizer sounds, the band brought in regular collaborator Tim Friese-Greene to lay down some keys—and he helped turn Talk Talk into one of the most ambitious acts at the forefront of experimental post-rock. But first, on It’s My Life, the band expertly set the stage for their future pivot away from commercial, mainstream synth-pop. They couldn’t have made Spirit of Eden without first making the energetic wall of gorgeous sound that makes up songs like “Such a Shame,” “Call in the Night Boy” and “It’s You.” With Mark Hollis’ pristine vocals at the center of every track, Talk Talk’s sophomore album remains one of the most-inventive, coolest synth-pop albums of the 1980s. —Matt Mitchell
13. Orange Juice: The Orange Juice
The self-titled final Orange Juice album is my pick for the greatest jangle-punk album of all time. The Scottish pop band had their foot inside many doors, from post-punk to indie pop to new wave, and all of those elements congealed into total bliss on their last endeavor as a band. Recorded with only Edwyn Collins and Zeke Manyika as full-time members, The Orange Juice has a swagger to it that is encapsulated on the swinging, funky “I Guess I’m Just a Little Too Sensitive.” Elsewhere, on “What Presence?!” and “Get While the Gettings Good” merge colors of XTC and Bowie into a hue of pop perfection. Collins sounds like a blueprint for post-AM Alex Turner, and deep cuts like “Salmon Fishing in New York” and “Burning Desire” solidify The Orange Juice as one of the best swan songs for a gone-too-soon band ever. There’s so much life (and juice) in the record, it’s a shame the band called it a day right after. —Matt Mitchell
12. The Blue Nile: A Walk Across the Rooftops
The Blue Nile are to electronica what the Beatles are to pop-rock. The Glasglow gents ruled the synthesized lands of the 1980s, capping it off with the immortal and immaculate Hats in 1989. But rewind to four years prior, and you’ll meet their beloved debut album A Walk Across the Rooftops and begin to wonder how they weren’t the most popular band of all time. The Blue Nile found their fans through word-of-mouth sales and, by the time Hats came out, A Walk Across the Rooftops had sold 80,000 copies. Songs like the title track, “Tinseltown in the Rain,” “Stay” and “Heatwave” are some of the best synth-pop songs of their generation, and you can hear how the record has informed everyone from the 1975 to Destroyer (the latter’s “Tinseltown Swimming in Blood” being one of most affectionate nods to the Scottish trio, intentional or not). —Matt Mitchell
11. Echo & the Bunnymen: Ocean Rain
The fact that Echo & the Bunnymen recorded this album with a 35-piece orchestra is enough to have me pass out, but add in one of the most iconic post-punk songs—and soundtrack songs for all my Donnie Darko heads out there—and you have an incredible piece of 1984 magic. Though Ocean Rain brought a softer rock sound to the heavier work of their earlier days, it’s not without its dramatic weight. Ocean Rain is an expert extension and refining of the experimental Porcupine with sweeping yet frenzied strings and bizarrely haunting lyrics with Ian McCulloch’s Liverpoolian wail at the center of the exquisite madness. Songs like “The Killing Moon” and “Nocturnal Me” thrust you into a swirling mass of a roaring sea while “Seven Seas” and “Silver” drift on the crest of a picturesque rip curl, gently setting you ashore to dance the night away. —OA
10. “Weird Al” Yankovic: ”Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D
“Weird Al” Yankovic is the most brilliant songwriter of the last 50 years. Just look at In 3-D for proof. Not only does this Platinum-selling Top 20 record feature genius parodies like “Eat It” and “I Lost on Jeopardy,” but Al wrote a couple of note-perfect original “style parodies” that sound exactly like the B-52’s and Bob Marley, as well as other originals that recall Springsteen, Steinman, Springfield, and even some artists that don’t start with ‘S.’ He also debuted one of his most enduring and popular ideas: the polka medley, with “Polkas On 45” running through Devo’s “Jocko Homo,” Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water,” Foreigner’s “Hot Blooded,” the Who’s “My Generation,” and a dozen others, seamlessly weaving them all together in an absurd, four-minute blast of polka madness. The showstopper is the album-closing original “Nature Trail to Hell,” a theatrical, gothic glam-metal epic that makes fun of the already deeply entrenched cliches of slasher movies Throughout the ‘80s “Weird Al” Yankovic established himself as one-third of the Holy Trinity of silliness, right up there alongside Looney Tunes and Mad magazine; In 3-D contributed to that more than any of Al’s other albums. —Garrett Martin
9. Cocteau Twins: Treasure
Even if there’s hardly a project that could be qualified as “a miss” in the hallowed halls of the Cocteau Twins’ beloved and singular discography, it’s still difficult to put into words how Treasure manages to outdo so much of it. If anything, it acts as a dividing line between the group’s heavier, driving post-punk of earlier releases and the moment they aim heavenward—pioneering the atmospheric dream pop sound that would become their shorthand and signature. Even their peers knew they were hearing something seemingly beamed down from another realm, with The Cure’s Robert Smith calling the album “the most romantic sound I’ve ever heard.” Perhaps the word choice of “sound” is the key, as the album operates less as a collection of pop songs and more as connected hymns of worship, pulled out of history to soundtrack all things holy—whether that’s romance or something more. —ES
8. Hüsker Dü: Zen Arcade
Despite their rep as hardcore pioneers Hüsker Dü were no doctrinaires. They struck on a more complex and unique sound early on, with their 1982 and 1983 releases—the “In a Free Land” single, the debut full-length Everything Falls Apart, and the transitional EP Metal Circus—standing out not just because of their extreme speed and aggression but for the growing tunefulness of their songwriting and the increasing virtuosity of the band’s musicianship. They were already one of the greatest bands in the world when they released their heavily praised double-album Zen Arcade in 1984, which was seen as a breakthrough by music critics late to the game. The record more than deserved its praise, of course; it’s a mighty concept album about a disillusioned teen runaway whose lyrics and general “pissed off but sad and fearful” attitude have resonated with a few generations of disgruntled youths (and adults). Its machine gun pop songs are delivered with hardcore grit and an unrelenting, lived-in rage, implicitly informed by songwriters Bob Mould and Grant Hart’s then-concealed queerness but universal enough for anybody who feels like an outcast to latch onto. And the music is absolutely killer, from the searing fuzz of Mould’s guitar, to Greg Norton’s hyperactive bass, to how Hart is able to pound away on the drums with militant power while still somehow swinging the whole way through.
How many punk bands in 1984 were recording side-long psychedelic mindfucks like the album-closing “Reoccurring Dreams”? Zen Arcade had maybe three toes in hardcore’s past and then seven in the future, and unsurprisingly it (and Hüsker Dü’s two 1985 albums, New Day Rising and Flip Your Wig) was a crucial influence on what would come to be called “alternative” music. It was also infamously released at the same time as their friends (and friendly rivals) Minutemen’s double-album Double Nickels on the Dime, and together the two massive albums sum up the differences between these two bands that will forever be linked to one another; Zen Arcade is a unified work that’s deadly serious and full of righteous fury, whereas Double Nickels is a manic, madcap sprint through a dozen different tones and moods, from working class anthems, humanist histories, everyday poetry, seemingly sunny beach travelogues that are actually about the first world’s exploitation of what is now called the Global South, and goofy classic rock covers. Zen Arcade meant so much more to me as a teenager, whereas Double Nickels has taken up way more time on my turntable since my mid 20s. They’re both amazing, though, and crucial to understanding the long history of underground rock. —GM
7. Bruce Springsteen: Born in the U.S.A.
This is Springsteen’s finest moment. Here are his strongest pop hooks, his most mature lyrics, his most complete vision. At long last, he reconciled the romanticism of his 1973-77 work with the darkness of his 1978-82 work. At long last, he mastered the recording studio to make it an aid to his vision rather than an obstacle, allowing him to finally be as powerful in the studio as he always had been on stage. At long last, he recognized that comedy could be as revealing of human nature as drama, and he allowed his funny songs to stand side by side with his serious ones. At long last, he resolved his ambivalence about pop stardom and went for it with the catchiest choruses, biggest guitar riffs and most evangelical vocals he could muster. —Geoffrey Himes
6. Sade: Diamond Life
There’s hardly a more killer opening to a debut than “Smooth Operator,” a song about the “American Psychos” of the world. For the London band Sade—yes, band, not a solo act — their simplistic soul sound stood out against the glitz and glamour of the ‘80s hits caked in heavy production. It’s hard not to appreciate the classic sound that Sade recreated on Diamond Life, with every song meticulously crafted with soul roots that flowed into effortless new school pop. The nine-track album covers everything from longing for a lover to missed opportunities—the type of musings everyone can relate to but made even better with the impeccable tones of Diamond Life. I’m a sucker for a saxophone solo, and “Your Love Is King” captures the energy of a smoky jazz club with Sade’s flawless vocal talents and the big band backing. Sade, while heavily defined by the unique richness of their frontwoman, succeeded because of their all-around talents, creating the silkiest, easy-listening melodies. It’s more than music; it’s a feeling—a dark, sexy feeling. —OA
5. Minutmen: Double Nickels on the Dime
Minutemen’s magnum opus is a stream-of-consciousness jumble of punk, jazz, funk, country and folk, with a handful of abbreviated classic rock covers thrown in for context’s sake. It’s a legitimately overwhelming piece of work, hard to listen to in one sitting but always worth it, and as overtly political as anything in the band’s catalogue, with its kaleidoscope of fractured, bite-sized songs treating personal and global politics as equally important. D. Boon and Mike Watt complimented each other perfectly, both as two halves of the band’s skronky, funky guitar/bass heart (with George Hurley’s startlingly versatile drums pumping behind it all), and as politically conscious citizens who together could address issues both macro and micro—while also writing an ideal theme song for a future TV show about dudes injuring themselves for laffs. And don’t think of it as a history lesson: Double Nickels on the Dime is as timeless as it is vital. —GM
4. The Replacements: Let It Be
After making Hootenanny a year earlier, the Replacements left their loud and fast playing behind in favor of the more melodic, coming-of-age, post-punk-inspired hooks of Let It Be in 1984. It doesn’t resemble the Beatles album of the same name in any kind of way, but it does showcase how bandleader Paul Westerberg was a disciple of Alex Chilton and Todd Rundgren, who were among Paul McCartney’s brightest progeny. Let It Be put the Replacements on the college rock map, spearheaded by tracks like “I Will Dare” and “Unsatisfied.” It’s just brilliant, catchy rock ‘n’ roll turned up to an 11 on the maturity scale. Westerberg was easily becoming one of the best living pop writers, and the Replacements joined R.E.M. in the winner’s circle of alt-rock, a prestige later given to bands like Sonic Youth and the Pixies. But the Replacements were one-of-a-kind, made obvious by Let It Be centerpiece “Androgynous,” which is a no-fuss piano ballad that puts Westerberg and the band’s newfound seriousness at center-stage. Still, there’s a moment where, as he sings the song’s title, you can hear him let out the faintest laugh. —Matt Mitchell
3. The Smiths: The Smiths
For a band that only made four albums yet became so legendary, every album has to kick ass—and the Manchester indie pioneers delivered a myriad of poetic musings against traditional masculinity and the blissful riffage of Johnny Marr when making their perfect debut. The Smiths isn’t necessarily the Smiths as we know them; it’s grittier, with flashes of post-punk that paint a much darker sound in some of the tracks. While Morrissey’s characteristic droney lullabies deliver some of the most painfully honest lyrics in music history, there is an uncharacteristic edge to the melodies—but I think that debut rawness is what drew people in. There is something I always find funny when bands write lyrics that are so torturous but, then, pair them with the most danceable rhythm. Like on “Pretty Girls Make Graves,” with the chorus being “I’m not the man you think I am / And sorrow’s native son / He will not smile for anyone,” played over Marr’s groovy riffs. “Miserable Lie” proved that this was a band, not just a singer with background musicians. With the beginning of the track keeping the soft rhythm of the aesthetics of many The Smiths songs, Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce burst through with a high-tempo rhythm that is uncharacteristically punk. “This Charming Man” (which was only available on the cassette printing of the record in the UK) is about young Morrissey grappling with his sexuality in overt sexual encounters: “Will nature make a man of me yet? / When in this charming car / This charming man,” he sings about the act of cruising, which was a common yet unspoken activity during the time. That’s the thing I love about the Smiths—the unapologetic expressions of sexuality and asexuality that even endure now with lines like “Does the body rule the mind, or does the mind rule the body? I don’t know.” —OA
2. Prince: Purple Rain
Yes, Prince’s second-best album is better than almost anyone else’s opus. If he had quit music after 1984’s Purple Rain, the soundtrack to the film of the same name, he would still be on the Mount Rushmore of American music. His sixth album brought funk to the world of pop, made synthetic music overflow with life and soul. Riding high on the success of 1999, Prince took advantage of his creative freedom and pursued every wild musical idea, from the sermon intro on “Let’s Go Crazy” to the psychedelic meanderings of “Computer Blue” to the scandalous “Darling Nikki,” a weird, noisy ditty that somehow found its way onto radio. But nowhere are Prince’s talents—as composer, producer, guitarist, vocalist, visionary—on better display than “When Doves Cry,” the song that would turn the Purple One into a global superstar. Add in the pop perfection of “I Would Die for U” and the gut-wrenching title ballad, and it’s a miracle that he actually topped this three years later. —JJ
1. Madonna: Like a Virgin
By the time Madonna put out Like a Virgin, she was already on a fast-track to being the Queen of Pop. Her self-titled debut LP from the year prior had hits like “Lucky Star,” “Holiday” and “Borderline,” all priming her for the monsoon of success her sophomore effort would bring. Christened by the release of the title track on Halloween 1984, “Like a Virgin” soared to #1 on the Hot 100 in the States and did the same in the UK, Australia and Canada (and ended as the #2 song on the year-end Hot 100 in 1985, just behind Wham!’s “Careless Whisper”). But Like a Virgin didn’t stop there. Back to back, “Material Girl” and “Angel” were such bulletproof, dominant pop singles that “Into the Groove,” one of the greatest pop songs ever, was the latter’s B-side! A Diamond certification and 21 million sold copies later, and Madonna’s second album is immortal. And, with the help of Chic’s Nile Rodgers, Like a Virgin sounds as good as anything Madonna has made since. And even the album’s deeper cuts, like “Shoo-Bee-Doo,” “Dress You Up” and “Pretender,” hit just as sweetly as they did four decades ago. On side one, Madonna flexes her chart-topping prowess; on side two, she shows why she was never going to be just a singles artist. You don’t get Like a Prayer, True Blue or Erotica without Like a Virgin; pop superstars like Lady Gaga, Britney Spears, Katy Perry and Charli xcx don’t exist like they do (or at all) without the blueprint Madonna set in motion 40 years ago. —Matt Mitchell
Check out a playlist of our favorite songs from 1984 below.