Let's start with the title: "Melodrama." It hints at something larger than life, bigger than anything you've ever known. From an outsider's perspective looking in, this album is a retelling of an event that eclipses most things. This event is called heartbreak. Lorde penned "Melodrama" with Jack Antonoff (of Fun. and Bleachers fame) after her major breakup with her longtime boyfriend, James Lowe. When one loves deeply, the pain that comes does more than sting. From start to finish, Lorde's signature lyrical witticisms are cutting, clever, and candid.
She is wise beyond her years but never forgets about her youth. And that is a remarkably rare and wonderful thing to be witnessing. Many remember Lorde's debut album and the praises that were sung. Words like "prodigy" and "gravitational" were thrown around.
I'd argue that Lorde has grown, but she recognizes that she is still young; there's still more to learn. I feel like I've grown with Lorde in this way as well. She's coming into her own and it's like seeing a friend rise up like a phoenix, stronger than they were before. While she has grown, it's not a more mature sound I would argue. She still likes to throw into the listener's face that she is still in fact very adolescent and still trying to figure everything out.
As it says in her cheeky track "The Louvre," "I overthink your punctuation use/not my fault/just something that my mind do." The pinnacle of Relatable Content™️ for all those hopeless romantics out there in this digital age. Wise enough to revel in this generation's follies, yet young enough to stumble over yourself over some online communication. Like I said, relatable content.
I have to admit that the first time I listened to "Melodrama" I cried. Hard. The thing about heartbreak is that it's as universal as love and sometimes, you break your own heart. Lorde was singing about anger and pain, and while it is hers, it is also mine. The fifth track "Liability" hit me head on like a train. I had to press replay about five times on this short, bittersweet song that perfectly encapsulates what it feels like to be a burden to basically everyone you know.
"Melodrama" is an example of music that I rarely come across; there is good music, great music, and then there is music that makes me feel everything all at once. Cliché as it might be, but there is no other way to describe it: when I listen to this album I feel infinite. From beginning to end, it is a RUSH, the album exudes the emotional stages one undergoes while young, heartbroken, and desperately trying to figure out the puzzle of life. The opening track, "Greenlight," sets us up for a new kind of break up song. It's electric and haunting but you can't help but jump around and dance to it. And, how morbid is that? This is someone's emotions and heart in our earbuds and here we are banging our heads and tapping our toes. That sense of juxtaposition never leaves as we go through the rest of the track listing. It's more than a roller coaster of emotions; it's straight up free falling. It's terrifying and real, but you love the rush. A few tracks in and we get "Homemade Dynamite," which is the Fountain of Youth in megabytes and sound waves. When you are old and gray and this song comes on, I guarantee this song will rejuvenate your bones and refresh your old soul. Towards the end, "Sober ii (Melodrama)" is the climax of our emotional journey with Lorde; the party is over and the high is gone ("Lights are on and they've gone home/But who am I?"). But the buzz from the previous rush clings on as we delve towards the finale. Right before the end, we get "Supercut" a bittersweet, evocative song about idealized romantic fantasies. Like most of us, Lorde hasn't quit her daydream of an idyllic romantic relationship.
The album culminates perfectly with "Perfect Places," which is essentially an anthem of youth and self-discovery ("All of the things we're taking/'Cause we are young and we're ashamed/Send us to perfect places"). This album came at the right time, personally speaking. When I was younger ("PH" came out four years ago, why must I speak like I'm that old...?), the bops on "Pure Heroine" resonated with me, her lyrics about longing to fit in and becoming okay with the fact that she might never be was a comfort. And the fact that her bold lyrics were set against pop sounds was a comfort I could dance to. Now, both of us are on that precarious cusp between adolescence and adulthood. It is terrifying. But, it's comforting to know that you don't have to know what or where you're going and that your plans don't have to be perfect either. It is enough, for now, to revel in the precariousness of our youth.
