Live Report: Lorde takes Dublin to 'Perfect Places' at breathtaking RDS Simmonscourt show

There's an unexplained phenomenon dubbed "the Hum," in which people hear a low-frequency humming, rumbling or droning noise. Hums have been reported from New Mexico to Auckland to Omagh and a definitive cause has yet to be identified. Some who have heard the Hum have described it as eerie, while others say it's comforting, like Mother Earth's music.

Much of Lorde's discography features a similar sound; it's in 'Helen of Troy', '400 Lux' and 'Yellow Flicker Beat', to name a few. And as a single silver laser beam slices through the darkness over the RDS Simmonscourt stage on Saturday evening, the Hum arrives in Dublin for a crowd of nearly 7,000.

The deep buzzing sound is the intro to 'Hammer', the first track of her latest album Virgin and the first song on the setlist. To longtime fans of the New Zealand pop singer, it invokes a strong sense of deja vu; bring the bass way up and treble way down, and it's nearly identical to the track 'Biting Down' from her 2013 EP The Love Club. And while the Ultrasound Tour was launched for the release of Virgin earlier this year, she follows up 'Hammer' with a beloved hit from The Love Club: 'Royals'.

Anyone who prefers to leave fan favourites to the end of the show surely hasn't seen Lorde sing 'Royals' in the first five minutes of her Dublin gig. The audience erupts with deafening screams. One would be hard-pressed to find anyone who doesn't know every word by heart.

The strength of the setlist doesn't come at the cost of lacking visuals. During 'Buzzcut Season', a cool blue light is cast over the crowd as a treadmill is wheeled on stage. A dancer (and later in the song, Lorde herself) slumps over the machine as if physically and mentally exhausted. As the song gradually builds up — light xylophone melody joined by thumping bass and organic percussion — the treadmill buzzes alive and the dancer begins to stumble, walk, then march. It's a poignant visualisation of the lyrics, which discuss willingly living in a bubble to avoid the pain of acknowledging the war and violence occurring in other parts of the world (impressively powerful lyrics written by a then-16-year-old).

"Explosions on TV and all the girls with heads inside a dream / So now we live beside the pool, where everything is good," sings Lorde as she pushes herself up the steps of the treadmill, running but going nowhere. "The men up on the news, they try to tell us all that we will lose / But it's so easy in this blue, where everything is good."

Lorde is not detached from the real world, as so many global pop stars can seem. For one, she has been vocal about her support for Palestine on stage and off for years. In 2018, she cancelled a planned concert in Tel Aviv in solidarity with the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) campaign. Earlier this year, she joined the No Music for Genocide boycott, removing her music from streaming services in Israel, alongside KNEECAP, Fontaines D.C., Björk, Paramore, Wolf Alice and more.

At Lorde's show at London's O2 arena earlier this month, staff forced two women to remove their FC Palestina football shirts, which displayed the word "Palestine," claiming the design was offensive. The O2 has since apologised, but any doubt that passionate support for Palestine was diminished at Lorde's shows is blown out of the water during her performance of 'Team' in Dublin.

"We live in cities you'll never see on-screen, not very pretty but we sure know how to run things / Livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams, and you know, we're on each other's team," she sings, backlit by stage lights in the colours of the Palestinian flag.

"We are all a network of bodies, Dublin!" she shouts during the outro. "Can't you feel it? Don't forget it now!"

As the song fades out, a few fans start a chant of "free, free Palestine." It's soft, but damn it, it's powerful.

Lorde gets political at some points, but deeply personal at others. After her piano-led heartbreak ballad 'Liability' from her 2017 album Melodrama, she speaks about the emotional significance of performing in Ireland for the first time in three years.

"I am so so so blessed to be here with you," she tells fans.

"As you know, it took me a while to make my way to you. When I finally got here, I had such a profound feeling of like, 'these are my people.' It took me by surprise, and I also really didn't, because, you know, I'm an O'Connor. We've got a crest and everything. Actually, this is a reminder to myself to start incorporating the O'Connor family crest into my stuff."

If you weren't aware, Lorde's full name is Ella Marija Lani Yelich-O'Connor. Bit of a mouthful, but her hyphenated surname pays homage to a Croatian mother and an Irish father (no relation to fellow female vocalist Sinéad).

"After doing music for 12 or 13 years now, it still completely blows me away that we are together under this roof right now where the same words, the same melodies move us all. I dredge this stuff up from very deep in my body, very deep in my soul and I sing it into the abyss. When I come here to Dublin, I feel so profoundly understood and loved by you. I feel the same way about you.

"This job has given me a passport to the world, but I feel like, in some ways, I've been trying to get to you my whole life. The whole time, I've been trying to find a way here. It's immeasurably moving that this journey brings me back to you. I feel very, very, lucky to be on Irish soil right now."

The mutual love between artist and audience is palpable. Later, she steps down off the stage during 'David', dressed in a jacket covered in light-up panels. As the reverent crowd parts around her, the image of Jesus walking through dense masses of adoring disciples comes to mind. The people, drawn by the teachings and miracles of one of their own, surround a prophet with respect and admiration. Perhaps Lorde too is a sort of modern shepherd of the soul.

The show concludes with two beloved tracks from her 2013 debut studio album, Pure Heroine: 'World Alone' and 'Ribs'. They're both coming-of-age anthems, the first about rejecting self-judgement based on what others think and the second about the bittersweet departure from childhood.

"Hold your friends tight," she shouts before launching into the nostalgic lament 'Ribs'. As she sings about the heartache of growing up, fans grasp each other's hands and hoist them high. Groups embrace each other, jumping up and down as they sing along.

"This dream isn't feeling sweet, we're reeling through the midnight streets / And I've never felt more alone, it feels so scary, getting old," she sings, joined by a chorus of thousands. "You're the only friend I need / Sharing beds like little kids / And laughing till our ribs get tough / But that will never be enough."

As the teary-eyed crowd filters out into the November cold, one is left contemplating Lorde's impact. The average age of the audience is somewhere in their early to mid-20s. These are people who grew up alongside Lorde. They were innocent tweens when she released Pure Heroine, moody teens for Melodrama and now young adults for Solar Power and Virgin. This isn't just a full circle moment for her; it's a full circle moment for her fans. This show is more than enough.