Culture

Rating: 4.5/5

No matter how many times I hear the Lorde story, it never fails to amaze me.

In 2008, Ella Yelich-O’Connor was just another North Shore 12-year-old. After a video of her singing at a school talent show made its way to Universal Records scout Scott Maclachlan, she was signed to the label and put on development. A long search for the right song-writing partner finally united Ella with Joel Little, with whom she has stuck ever since. The duo then wrote and recorded The Love Club EP, a set of five songs that Ella uploaded onto the Internet under the name “Lorde.”

That was in November last year. In just ten months, Lorde has gone from being a Year 11 student at Takapuna Grammar to one of the most celebrated and talked-about pop musicians in the world today. Her single “Royals” has arguably been the most ubiquitous song of 2013, soaring to the top of the charts around the globe and even reaching number one on the Billboard Alternative Songs chart. The last time a female solo artist achieved that, Ella wasn’t even born.

But chances are you know this story already. You’ve heard “Royals” and “Tennis Court” on the radio. You’ve seen the tweets that Emma Watson, Steve Carell and Moby posted about her. You’re aware that she’s (gasp) only sixteen. The reason I remind you of all this is simply to put her debut album, the cheekily-named Pure Heroine, into perspective.

Lorde released a hugely successful and promising EP and gained celebrity status overnight as a result. To stay upon her throne, she needed to prove to the world that getting there wasn’t a fluke. She had to repeat the charms of her first body of work, or else watch in horror as the hype around her quickly deflates and her fifteen minutes of fame comes to an abrupt end.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, you can stop holding your breath. Break out your headphones and that champagne, because Pure Heroine is a stunning album.

Like “Royals” before it, Pure Heroine’s greatest strength is how greatly it contrasts with the rest of modern pop music. Sonically, Pure Heroine continues the darker, more experimental note The Love Club ended on with “Biting Down.” Indeed, its sparse compositions and brooding electronics put it more in line with the likes of James Blake and In Rainbows-era Radiohead than Nicki Minaj. It boasts a feline sense of restraint, seeking to hypnotise you with its melodies rather than knock you over the head with them. Though the songs themselves can lack a little bite, they are given teeth by Lorde’s razor-sharp lyrics and her ever-improving voice.

Lyrically, Lorde continues to cleverly explore and subvert the world around her, shifting her criticisms of opulence to the clichés of contemporary pop (“Team”) and the fetishisation of violence (“Glory and Gore”). At points Pure Heroine becomes autobiographical, with Ella delving into the surrealism of her sudden fame whilst simultaneously longing for simpler times. This is a topic many pop artists struggle to touch on without sounding soppy or conceited, and yet Lorde does it with staggering sincerity. Any other 16-year-old crooning the line “it feels so scary getting old” would sound embarrassing, and yet when Lorde does so on “Ribs” you’ll be blinking back tears.

In the face of her ravishing production and engrossing lyrics, Lorde’s voice remains her greatest asset. She sings with a unique emotional hue and intensity on each track: on “400 Lux” she is confident and velveteen; on “Buzzcut Season” hopeful and ethereal; and on “Glory and Gore” cynical and aggressive. It is this highly personal and diverse instrument of hers, now more than ever, that distinguishes each track. She continues to electronically experiment with her voice in exciting ways, such as pitch-bending it down to an androgynous growl in “Tennis Court” and “Team” and colourfully harmonising with herself in “Buzzcut Season” and the glorious “White Teeth Teens.”

Pure Heroine doesn’t just meet expectations; it decimates them. In the 10 short months since the release of her EP, Lorde has written and recorded an astounding debut album, with nary a weak track or whiff of feeling rushed. So consistently does Lorde fire on all cylinders, I would struggle to choose a highlight among these 10 fantastic songs.

There are lots of paths Lorde didn’t take with Pure Heroine that I’d love to see her go down, but that can wait until her next album. Right now we are blessed with a rock-solid debut from a young and extremely talented Kiwi, a debut that feels like the beginning rather than the end, a harbinger of more wonderful things to come. For a young pop star, that is a rare thing indeed.