It’s been over four years since the release of critically acclaimed album Melodrama (winning Album of the Year in New Zealand and a Grammy nomination in the US). It seems like it’s been a lifetime since we last heard from Kiwi pop sensation Lorde.
Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with a play by play of each song on the new record. I’m far more intrigued by the message of the album itself, as well as the culture of exhileration leading up to its release. All you need to know is that the title track boasts the most mellow psychedelic rock since the likes of Sublime and Primal Scream.
Solar Power touts the witchy, cultic vibe that propelled Lorde to stardom in 2012 and that fans have so adored over the years. So why does the fanbase seem so underwhelmed?
To be fair, Melodrama is a difficult album for any artist to compete with. After such an extensive hiatus, many fans were expecting an album with a little more substance. After all, we can’t all live on an island paradise with childhood friends, swimming and smoking unlimited amounts of chronic.
That’s not to say there’s no substance to be found. One has to look no further than “Big Star”, a heartbreakingly beautiful love song written by Ella to her late dog Pearl. Solar Power also amplifies the conversation around climate change by promoting appreciation for and unity with the environment.
Some of the more musically inclined listeners have pointed out the similarities between “Stoned at the Nail Salon” feat. Phoebe Bridgers, and Lana Del Rey’s 2019 album Norman Fucking Rockwell, both produced by Jack Antonoff of Bleachers. Still, there’s a signature early 2000s nostalgia embedded within the musical composition that I find endearing.
I usually try to veer far from eurocentricity, though the majority of the album promo is based in the US, and this population accounts for much of the roughly 40,000 sales. It’s an odd choice- releasing a summer record for a fanbase that exists largely in the northern hemisphere, but Lorde has made an effort to give back to her local community by centering Kiwi fans.
Lorde, though posting again on social media, has been very quiet in response to album criticism. To the public, she appears relatively unperturbed. Am I suggesting that Lorde doesn’t care whether or not fans enjoy her music? In fact, she prophesied this years ago in her song “Liability”: I am a toy that people enjoy ‘til all of the tricks don’t work anymore // then they are bored of me...
In a post-pandemic world that has sparked conversations of self-validation and mental health awareness, what do artists owe fans? For creatives, the volatile economy poses a constant pressure to monetize the things you enjoy.
There’s more to artistry than record sales and the spilling of guts. Music is about the expression of even the simplest of emotions, and it’s a relief to see artists have fun with their work (and be happy for a change).
Despite her stage name and self-proclaimed title of "prettier Jesus", Lorde isn’t interested in taking on a role so substantial as contemporary pop music’s female messiah. Rather, she is a champion of the alternative subgenre in a way that transcends music and communicates through nature to those who simply take the time to listen.
