You Need To Listen To Lorde's New Album 'Melodrama'

You Need To Listen To Lorde's New Album 'Melodrama'

The electro-pop genius has given us utter and complete magic.
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If someone had come up to me a month ago and asked me if I liked Lorde, I would have said, "Sure. She's cool." And she is cool. But for some very weird and unknown reason, I have been completely underestimating her level of cool for the past four years or so.

I saw Lorde at Governor's Ball in New York City on June 2nd and she was more magical on stage than I could have ever imagined. She is a gothic, enigmatic, wondrous human being with some of the greatest talent I've ever had the great pleasure to witness. I was actually mad at myself after the set because it took me so long to catch onto this: Lorde is amazing. As my friend's Instagram caption correctly stated, she is likely our world's "Lorde and savior."

Well, it's safe to say that if someone comes up to me now and asks me if I like Lorde, I will probably just scream, "BUY 'MELODRAMA!'" in their face and send them running for the high hills in terror.

The New Zealand native dropped her second electro-pop masterpiece of an album on Friday, June 16, titled "Melodrama." You've heard the singles like "Green Light" and "Perfect Places" (both jams), but don't overlook some of the best parts of this album simply because they don't make it to the radio. Truthfully, any of these songs could easily top the charts. I've picked four that are real standouts on "Melodrama," so take a listen.

The Louvre

On my first listen I didn't even fully pay attention to what I love most about this song: the lyrics. They're poetic in the prettiest way and they tell a story that I am really obsessed with, maybe because they're actually relatable. It makes me a little bit sad, but just as that feeling starts to creep in, I want to dance...which is a weird but amazing feeling that Lorde just seems to capture far better than any other artist.

Sober II (Melodrama)

Ah, the title track. A staple, and in this case, a winner in every which way. I really love it as a sequel to "Sober," whose chorus recurs with the starting lines "We're King and Queen of the weekend / Ain't a pill that could touch our rush/ But what will we do when we're sober?" I can't pinpoint exactly what about this song is so appealing, but everything about it feels so good, especially when the bass hits about halfway through the song. She just gets it so, so right.

Writer In The Dark

To me, this is the standout slow ballad, outshining even Liability, which I loved (and continue to love) when I first heard it at Gov Ball a few weeks back. 'Writer In The Dark" is the heartbreaking slow song that every album needs, but somehow Lorde has just completely perfected it. And the intimacy that she hits on here is rare. This is likely my favorite song on "Melodrama."

Supercut

Here we go again. I'M SAD BUT I'M DANCING. WHAT'S GOING ON? Lorde is perfection. That's what's going on. This one deserves to be turned up to 10.

The truth is that a lot of these songs are just awesome, and there's not a ton to say about them after that. Lorde rocks. Go buy "Melodrama."

Cover Image Credit: Dork

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The End Of The Semester As Told By Todd Chrisley

Because we're all a little dramatic like Todd sometimes.
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The last 3-4 weeks of every college student’s semester are always crazy hectic. We have last minute assignments, group projects, and exams all squeezed into the last few weeks before break.

Sometimes we all need a little humor, and sometimes we are all a little dramatic, so why not experience the last few weeks of the semester as told by the king of drama himself, Todd Chrisley of Chrisley Knows Best.

1. Sitting in class listening to your professor explain upcoming assignments/exams.

2. When your group project members refuse to do anything until the night before it's due or just show up the day of to present.


3. When you and your roommate try to cook with whatever few ingredients you have left in stock.

Because we definitely want to avoid going to the grocery store at the end of the semester if we can.

4. When your parents get tired of you calling them about every little inconvenience in your life.

5. Sitting down to work on assignments.


6. Your thoughts when the professor is telling you what they want from you out of an assignment.


7. When you've had about 30 mental breakdowns in 2 days.

8. Trying to search out the class for the right group members.

9. The last few days of classes where everyone and everything is getting on your nerves.

10. When your friend suggests going out but you're just done with the world.

11. This. On the daily.

12. When all you want to do is snuggle up and watch Christmas movies.


13. Studying and realizing you know nothing.


14. When your finals are over and it's finally time to go home for break.


You're finally back to your old self.

Cover Image Credit: Instagram

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The Breath of Solitude

A Poem With A Prologue // Polar Viewpoints.

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mccall
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Prologue:


She smacks your parted lips,

sucking the dry,

open cracks to a seal.

Pumping energy into your chest

and sending a continuous shiver

from lung to navel.


You can't help but cough,

as your lungs tighten and twist.

Ringing the frosty sensation out –

slipping through your parted lips.


The same parted lips that

allowed her deliberate fingers

to crawl inside

where she can escape her own dimension

of solitude.




The Breath of Solitude


All I know

is solitude.


We chat

every day

in conversations that circulate

behind the backs

of the present.


Solitude grinds my coffee beans,

as we sit

with our legs crossed,

waiting for dawn

to explode over our opaque landscape.


Solitude runs my bath,

bubbling

as the Sun crashes

against the diminishing horizon.


But none of this is reality.

I am above

the dimension of reality.

Not theoretically,

but physically.

I am only a tool

to be used in the dimension

of your reality.

Drifting in and out,

twirling through your negative space.

My only purpose

is found through your breath;

but what do I do

when you stop breathing?


I wait for your fingers,

less deliberate than mine,

but filled with that

that I lack.


I cannot see the blood

that sloshes through the veins

in your innocent hands.

The blood that energizes

those fingers

upon which I wait.


But I know

the blood is there.

It isn't

what you do.

It isn't

the way you move.

Simply put,

it is

the way

that you exist.


The sheer fact

that you have a bursting burgundy waterfall

streaming,

not only through your fingers,

but engulfing all of you

in its rich,

rooted,

energy.


The only waterfall

that I encompass

is the waterfall

that you imagine.

I have no blood;

I have no way to exist.


And so I

wait for your fingers,

less deliberate than mine,

but filled with that

that I lack.


I wait for your fingers

to filter the heat

to a state of regulation,

a state of production,

a state in which I can exist.

The peach fuzz

that sleeps on the bridge of your nose

begins to rise

when your fingers initiate the flame.

The temperature reacts,

as would my heartbeat,

if I had a bursting burgundy waterfall,

or some type of life source

inhabiting my chest cavity.


As the heat

starts to melt

my metaphorical skin,

I become reality.

I don't have a face to smile,

or eyes to produce tears.

But I have thoughts.

I have words to say,

I have feelings to express.


I still can only drift,

in and out,

twirling through your negative space,

but now spiraling

into your positive space,

as well.


mccall
mccall

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