Album Review: Lorde, Melodrama

Oh Lorde! The pop sensation born Ella Yelich-O’Connor caused such a stir at age 16 with her debut album that, obeying the usual laws of mass entertainment, there was nowhere to go but down. Four years on, she returns with a second record and a bottomless reservoir of growing pains on which to draw.
The real surprise is that Melodrama is every bit the equal of predecessor Pure Heroine, with Lorde progressing as a songwriter even as she stays umbilically connected to the wide-eyed melancholia that set her apart from other pop stars.
In an age when mainstream warblers – Lorde’s “squad” bestie Taylor Swift among them – are past masters at stating the obvious, Melodrama’s most compelling quality is ambivalence. On ‘Green Light’, Lorde reflects on a car-crash night out – yet it is up to the listener to conclude whether she is celebrating or mourning the transitory excesses of youth. Elsewhere, young love and premature heartache are the driving force behind ‘Homemade Dynamite’ and ‘The Louvre’ – apparently Paris is anything but a repository of happy memories – while ‘Hard Feelings / Loveless’ casts itself adrift amid the slow, sad throb of the empty dancefloor.
Lorde works extensively here with Jack Antonoff of Bleachers and Fun. Yet rather than a gun for hire, Antonoff is revealed to be a kindred spirit. They’re perfect partners as they relay the many ways, whether young or old, that life can kick sand in your face – their ennui upholstered with siren dirges of heartbreaking exquisiteness.