Review Summary: Let 'Em Talk
It's not often that we get a teenager with the lyrical capability to depict the world in a realistic way. Many don't have much if any life experiences,so this false sense of understanding the world has them writing from a naïve standpoint that seems removed from reality and just some caricature of what real life is really like. This is a major reason as to why love songs written by young pop stars sound as insincere as they do (plus many other reasons). So how does Lorde, the youngest of the youthful pop stars, somehow get it right? Well, we’ve already seen this kind of story before within the blonde-haired heartbreaker herself, Taylor Swift. While both seem to be on polar spectrums of style, Swift was rooted in country and Lorde is going for a more electronic sound, these young artists both understand something critical to songwriting: write what you know. Instead of trying to relate to the common man and assuming they understand the gripes of being anything other than what they are, they keep the subject material personal. This skill is superbly expressed in Lorde's debut album: Pure Heroine.
It is obvious from the production style that Lorde’s main focus when it comes to the beats is not catchy melodies, but creating a scene for each track. The dream pop-esque, minimalistic production contrasts well with the deep bass present in many of the tracks. This dreary, yet modernized sound is the perfect soundtrack to the foggy suburbs of New Zealand. The hazy feel of “Ribs” fits the setting of a booze-filled high school party, “Glory And Gore”’s rebellious nature is fit with dark, buzzing synths, and the sweet yet somber guitars on “A World Alone” compliment lyrics speaking of the acceptance of youth slowly dying. While many of the tracks beats have their own little quirks, the fact that many of the tracks feel like they’re built off a similar base helps with building a consistent sound but keeps the sound palette quite limited. This leads to some of the tracks sort of teetering the line of blending together into a grey, droney mess.
It’s apparent by the minimalistic production that the focus of Pure Heroine is supposed to be on Lorde herself. While it’s common for teenage stars to rely on the production to carry their voice, we have the opposite effect occurring here. Lorde’s voice is surprisingly mature for her age, building a personal connection with the listener as if you are sitting with her on the sidewalk, watching the grey clouds pass by in the Auckland sky. Lorde takes this personal feel and uses it to her advantage by taking an introspective look at herself throughout the majority of lyrics present on Pure Heroine. Tracks like “Still Sane” and “Buzzcut Season” tell the story of an outcast; showing the pros and cons of rejecting social norms and shutting everybody out. What is independence from the mainstream worth if at times you truly feel alone in the world and your exuberant youth is slowly wasting away? Love is a somewhat occurring theme running through the record, but not in the way you’d expect from a pop album. Instead of passion-filled relationships blowing up in a massive ball of emotion and tears, “Ribs” and “400 Lux” show the type of relationship less explored. Sometimes the love just isn’t there, and each moment spent with each other feels more soulless than the other. Sometimes two people just don’t feel the same passion they feel when it comes to their friendship, especially when you’re young and love is an abstract concept that simply leads to sex. This sensation is masterfully expressed on here, along with almost every other track. Whether it be about rebellion, luxury, or just a big middle finger to the world around her, Lorde is here to speak her mind.
This album can be quite polarizing due to this one fact: it’s written from the perspective of a teenage girl. This news could be deal-breaking to many. "Who wants to listen to an Aussie girls’ first world problems?" Even if those same people end up giving this album a listen, there will be moments in the record that do sound like a teenager just wrote them up. “Royals” is a sharp decline in lyrical content, acting as just a simple-minded pop culture-basher that set the world on fire. Plus, some lines could’ve definitely had a few changes to sound less awkward, such as this line in “A World Alone”, “Maybe the Internet raised us/Or maybe people are jerks.” But if there’s one lesson that we can learn from this album is that everybody deserves the chance to have their story be heard. Doesn’t matter if you’re 70 or 17.
