Good Lorde

by Cory Martin
Lorde, the 16 year old pop star (or should I say anti-pop star?) from New Zealand has shot to super stardom by grabbing the number one spot on the alternative charts for several weeks with “Royals.” This is no small feat: the last woman to obtain that prize was Alanis Morissette and her slew of iconic singles from 1996’s Jagged Little Pill. Yeah, it has been that long that our rock radio stations have been dominated by Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Foo Fighters, and Nickleback. Somehow Lorde has struck a nerve and is contending for a throne by lyrically eviscerating the culture that has been marketed to teens for years.
If you haven’t heard “Royals” stop what you are doing and listen to it right now and prepare you self to be blown away by how understated it is. Royals is a reaction to music that boasts of lavish lifestyles (see also “Thrift Shop”), but instead of just spitting lines about how stupid being consumed being a consumer is, she gets to the emptiness she feels from those lies. Royals plainly lays out what many youth are feeling. They know deep down they are being told that money is how we define success in this world, but they see all of the people around them that have money feeling empty. Youth are left with questions about how one feels alive in this time and place.  Lorde falls squarely wear most youth seem to fall…love. To truly be known by someone, to be vulnerable and someone that will reciprocate that vulnerability, to be marked by love and defined by love. Royals is a true home run and deserves every bit of attention it is and will receive.
What about the rest of her debut album? As the album title implies (Pure Heroine) it is absolutely addicting. Where Royals serves as the free first hit the drug dealer (Lorde in this case) gave us to get us hooked. The album might require some form of rehab to get it out of heavy rotation or at the very least out of your head. The album holds very close stylistically and thematically of “Royals.” There is only one song (“Team”) that could be considered “Royals” redux, so she doesn’t wear out her welcome. The album is a perfect marriage of the “gangsta Nancy Sinatra” that Lana Del Rey ascribes to and the tight, subtle production of The XX. This marriage serves Lorde very well because it gives her the perfect vehicle to show off her lyrics and her beautiful vocal tone. Lorde wants to knock you out with her vulnerability and emotion instead of relying of cliched crescendos one would find in a Katy Perry song or over production (see also Katy Perry). There are a few dull spots in the second half of the album, but it is largely forgivable.
I will flat out say that I love this album and it makes me want to be a better youth minister, too. That is not some weird way of saying that I want to be Lorde’s youth minister. Lorde simply lays out the sheer sadness, loneliness, emptiness, and search for meaning that teens are feeling today. For that reason I don’t think lots of youth will like this album, because it may hit way too close to home, but I have gladly given this album to a couple of my youth. I hope youth hear the album and know they are not alone in what they feel. It is the church’s responsibility to give them the answers to what Lorde is singing about.