YOUTH: Auckland-based musician Lorde defies the limits of success by dominating charts.
By Antonio Serros, Staff Writer
Beneath the flowing, umber locks painted by Botticelli himself and the absent, doe-eyed façade of Lorde (born Ella Yelich-O’Connor), lie the profound musings of a young philosopher well beyond her years. Preaching the anthem of teenage apathy, Lorde’s nouveau alternative style and enigmatic voice have earned her the teen idol title at the mere age of sixteen.
The painfully shy princess began writing songs around the age of thirteen – the same age most of us were more concerned with starting high school than with forging an entirely new musical sub-genre. We certainly weren’t writing “Royals,” that’s for sure. “Royals”quickly became the defining moment in Lorde’s career, and as she struggled to evade the limelight behind sleeve-clenching fists, “Royals” continued to grow, surpassing even the likes of Katy Perry’s “Roar.”
Like most typical sixteen-year-olds, Lorde enjoys perusing Tumblr and watching Breaking Bad. However, most average teenagers cannot boast of number ones on iTunes or shattering records such as being the first woman to top the Billboard Alternative Songs chart in the United States since 1996, (which, ironically, is the same year Lorde was born). It is Lorde’s hyper-realism and opposition to materialism that makes her debut album, Pure Heroine, a pure masterpiece.
From the euphoric “Buzzcut Season” to the formidable “Glory and Gore,” every song on Pure Heroine is so lyrically profound and thought-provoking that the average listener might be shocked to learn that the artist doesn’t even have her license yet.
In “Buzzcut Season,” the repetitive line “I’ll live in a hologram with you” elevates the already hyperbolized adolescent phantasmagoria to another level, eerily clinging to the ears of its listeners. The rapidly percolating speed of the song “Ribs” conveys the lighting-fast speeds not of iPhones, but of life, making sense of the melancholy lines, “I’ve never felt more alone/ It feels so scary gettin’ old.” As the listener cozies up to estranged phantoms otherwise repressed, the involving lyrics of Pure Heroine set Lorde apart from her competitors who boast of seemingly unattainable wealth and luxuries.
As the modern-day Joan of Arc, Lorde liberates the music industry from its own glorified, trite hymn of materialism. In “Tennis Court,” Lorde casually serves up the idea that “It’s a new art form/ Showing people how little we care,” calling a match point against the otherwise-minded. By writing songs based off of mundane, ordinary events, Lorde’s music becomes the epitome of the teenage self. Amidst layered harmonies and melodies so strong goosebumps run rampant across the skin, we see ourselves.
We see ourselves as the queen bees, the class clowns and the beauty queens. Every aspect of Lorde’s music, from the lyrics to the easily-missed iPhone key clicks in the background of “Ribs,” reflects the juvenile psyche in all of its defiant, rebellious grandeur. Perhaps that’s why we have such an addiction to our heroine.
Through Lorde’s acute understanding of the teenage condition, Pure Heroine stands as the anthem of the fresh-faced, 21st century teen. As for Lorde herself, it’s safe to say she has secured her place atop a throne built upon the singles she crushed to get there. Our neoteric Joan of Arc examines her status in a graceful yet distinctively satiric manner in “Still Sane,” singing “Only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone/ What does that make me?” Only time will tell whether Lorde will be immortalized or burned at the stake.
Photo courtesy of www.billboard.com