I WANT LORDE TO RELEASE NEW MUSIC
Ella Marija Lani Yelich-O'Connor if you are not in that recording studio by the time I count to 5....
Again, I am working on sending this newsletter out earlier, but as fate would have it, my Trader Joe’s Grilled Balsamic Vinegar and Rosemary Chicken leaked through my grocery bag and onto my pants during the train ride home, so you could say I’ve been in crisis mode today. Has crisis ever smelled so savory and herbal?
Another week, another Grammys where Elton John leaves pissed. In addition to not receiving an invitation myself, there was another person notably absent from the ceremonies: Lorde. This is probably because the voting members have chronically bad taste, or because Lorde hasn’t released any new music in almost four years, despite my frequent prayers to the altar I maintain in the corner of my closet.
What is Lorde up to these days? We know she went to Antarctica; ate onion rings; maybe dated Jack Antonoff. And we know what Miss Thing ISN’T doing, which is releasing music. I don’t know Morse code, but my leg is nervously tapping out an internationally recognized signal of distress. I need a new Lorde album yesterday. I am NOT asking nicely!
Lorde’s first album, Pure Heroine, came out when I was 17. There’s a scene in Monk where title character Adrian Monk, grieving his dead wife, pulls her pillow from an airtight container in the closet, buries his face in it to relive her smell, and then reseals the pillow. I feel the same way with Pure Heroine. I ration how often I listen to this album because I’m hesitant to crack open the seal of nostalgia preserving it, lest it start to absorb the smells and sights and sounds of my present. I want to hear the opening notes of “Tennis Courts” and feel like I’m sitting in my first car, a grey 2003 Ford Focus, waiting in my high school’s parking lot for my siblings to slide in the backseat. They demand I change the music; I do not.
When I was 19 and on fire, Lorde released Melodrama, and I was disappointed that the album didn’t resonate with me immediately. A heartbreak or two later, and the album has become the lingua franca for me and anyone who has arrived at the far side of a break-up feeling alone and tender.
I love Lorde for the way I’ve grown up parallel to her (parallel in the sense that I am sad sometimes and euphoric other times, like Lorde, not in the wunderkind-pop-star sense), but mostly? I love Lorde because that weirdo is obsessed with teeth. I mean, here is a selection of TOOTH REFERENCES from Pure Heroine alone:
“I am not a white-teeth teen…” (“White Teeth Teens”)
“But every song's like gold teeth, Grey Goose, trippin' in the bathroom…” (“Royals”)
“A hundred jewels on throats, a hundred jewels between teeth…” (“Team”)
“Dreams of clean teeth…” (“400 Lux”)
Pure Heroine pits the teenager Lorde against the normies whose conformity and money she resents, and that money is always in proximity to teeth. Whether the teeth are consistent-dental-care white, ensconced in gold, or biting down on literal jewels, the teeth in Pure Heroine are the yuppy enemy personified. Are we to understand that Lorde was developing a multi-song treatise on teeth as an instrument of classism? See, this lady gets it!
But Lorde’s contempt for white teeth cannot conceal the earnest ambition behind Pure Heroine. If Lorde had a set of white teeth, she could take a bite out of the world; not to inflict pain, just to see the indents left behind. Just to see evidence that she existed in this world and left a mark.
Lorde leaves all those teenage worries behind with the hedonism of Melodrama. The world is full of flavors, and she’s gonna taste them all:
“Oh, God, I'm closin' my teeth around this liquor-wet lime” (“Sober”)
Before we dive into this lyric, take a moment and say the phrase “liquor-wet lime” out loud to the room. Sh*t!!!!!! Now THAT is what we call songwriting, folks!
The teeth have fully settled into Lorde’s mouth — maybe teeth don’t represent money after all, but maturity? Autonomy? Knowing who you want to go home with and smiling at them across a crowd of dancing strangers? But if she got a set of pearly whites, why is there so much heartbreak in Melodrama? It turns out the teeth bite back.
Teeth don’t make as many appearances on Melodrama, but there’s lots of language about consuming. Sometimes, Lorde holds onto her autonomy as the consumer, and other times, she’s the one being consumed:
“Well, summer slipped us underneath her tongue, our days and nights are perfumed with obsession…” (“The Louvre”)
“Every perfect summer’s eating me alive until you’re gone…” (“Liability”)
Melodrama is such a hungry album, and so much of its pain comes from Lorde realizing there are consequences for her appetite. We meet Lorde at the perimeter of the party and sink down next to her with our backs against the wall, our heads in our hands. Sometimes it’s hard wanting so much.
I’ve always been grateful to Lorde that she processed the angst of being a famous teen early in her first album. By the time we get to Melodrama, she doesn’t engage at all with with the bizarreness of being a celebrity, sticking to what’s universal. And what’s more universal than the pain of loving someone who cannot love you back?
There have been so many points over the last year when I have thought to myself, “Wow, I could really use a Lorde album right now.” This moment is no different. As more and more people get vaccinated, and the world starts to open back up, I feel that old Melodrama hunger to gobble up the whole world.
But I’m waiting on a cue from Lorde to tell me how I should feel about this approaching dawn. I want to see the whole world, but how do I make a home? I want to be in love, but how do I hold onto my independence? I want to feel everything, but how do I protect myself from being eclipsed by those feelings? When I imagine a time after the pandemic, I picture myself running through an empty street. I’m smiling, and my vision is a little blurred, but my feet are steady beneath me. I don’t know what I’m running towards. I’m waiting for Lorde to tell me.
This week I am craving: a bite out of a foam pool noodle. I’m sorry for this one :/
Best piece of writing I’ve read in a long time. This rekindled A lot of buried nostalgia and love I have for lorde. Will be listening to melodrama today.
Who wrote/compiled the little gem that is the Jack Antonoff link? That's like finding a secret compartment in a treasure chest.