La Roux

About La Roux

La Roux is the project of Elly Jackson, though most people didn't realize it was essentially a solo act when "Bulletproof" became inescapable in 2009. Jackson started La Roux in London with producer Ben Langmaid, and together they crafted a self-titled debut that sounded like someone had found pristine synth-pop blueprints from 1983 and decided to execute them with 2009 production values. Jackson's gravity-defying quiff and androgynous look became as recognizable as that voice—sharp, precise, and sitting somewhere between new wave detachment and genuine emotion.

The debut album hit exactly right. "In for the Kill" had that hypnotic Skream remix that made it work in both indie clubs and proper dance venues, while "Bulletproof" became one of those rare songs that sounds massive without trying too hard. "Fascination" and "Quicksand" kept the momentum going. The whole record felt oddly pure for the late 2000s, when most pop was either chasing dubstep or stuck in mid-tempo malaise. La Roux won a Grammy for Best Electronic/Dance Album and went platinum multiple times. Jackson was 21 and suddenly everywhere.

Then came five years of silence. Langmaid left. Jackson dealt with chronic vocal issues that required surgery and extensive recovery. The music industry moved on to other sounds, other haircuts, other artists who released albums more than once per presidential term.

When "Trouble in Paradise" finally arrived in 2014, it split opinions. Some people wanted "Bulletproof 2.0" and instead got Jackson diving deeper into smooth '80s influences—less Yazoo, more Chic and Prince. "Let Me Down Gently" and "Kiss and Not Tell" had this poolside sophistication, all talk-box vocals and humid grooves. "Tropical Chancer" leaned into disco without irony. The album was lusher, warmer, more openly romantic than the debut's cool detachment. It sold less but aged better than anyone expected.

Another long gap followed. Jackson took time, resisted pressure, and returned in 2020 with "Supervision," a record even fewer people heard but that showed she'd stopped caring about recapturing 2009. Tracks like "International Woman of Leisure" had this dry, funky irreverence. "He Drives Me Crazy" and "Gullible Fool" found Jackson embracing '70s glam and rock textures alongside the synths. It felt like watching someone make exactly the album they wanted, audience size be damned.

These days Jackson exists outside the hype cycle entirely, which seems to suit her. She's not chasing TikTok trends or dropping singles every six weeks. La Roux's legacy is weird—permanently associated with one massive song, yet Jackson has quietly built a catalog that gets more interesting the less it tries to repeat past success. That quiff is gone, but the refusal to make obvious choices remains.

La Roux's sets are controlled and precise—the opposite of loose jamming. Crowds are there for the songs, and Jackson delivers them cleanly, often with minimal between-song banter. The energy is focused rather than wild, suited to people who actually want to hear the music clearly.

Known for In for the Kill, Bulletproof, Kiss and Not Tell, Fascination, White Noise

See La Roux Live