Pure Heroine
Lorde
2013
Entering the mainstream pop world at a meteoric rate, a fifteen year old New Zealand adolescent triumphantly compares the consumption of millennial geared-media to the effects of battling war.
Avant Pop/Dark Wave/Art Pop
BY HARPSICHORD
JANUARY 30, 2024
When Lorde released “Royals” in 2013, it had been unlike anything heard on radio stations. With a voice that trawled along to finger snaps, lo-fi bass, and warped synths– the song signaled depression. Regarded as a millennial anthem of sorts, “Royals” expressed the sentiments of not belonging in a world full of glamorized luxurious images. “I've never seen a diamond in the flesh,” commented the at-the-time 15-year-old hailing New Zealand. Even though the song criticized the imagery present in hip hop and pop videos, the song itself had a hip hop beat and became the very obnoxious moment of pop that it ridiculed.
In hindsight, “Royals,” is arguably the most annoying song from Lorde’s debut studio album, Pure Heroine. Thanks to ad nauseum radio play, the song ended up making the year-end and decade-end lists of multiple publications. It ended up garnering two Grammys, ‘Song of the Year’ and ‘Best Pop Solo Performance.’ Its minimalist structure not only settled a larger mainstream audience into the sound of Lorde, but also is credited for bringing an uprising of alternative pop music modeled after it.
However, “Royals” exists as the outlier of Pure Heroine. Much of the album is indeed much more exciting and exhilarating. “Royals” exposed the complaining of the millennial generation. The surrounding tracks unpacked the realities of coming of age within Lorde’s generation– which was promptly being watched by the younger Gen Z who would soon be relied on within the next few years to also make consequential decisions that would shape the world’s future.
“Don’t you think that it’s boring how people talk?” questions Lorde in the opening seconds of Pure Heroine. Starting off with the downtempo track, “Tennis Court,” there is a rush by the time the synths clink like a pendulum. It’s an exploitation of ER-sounding hip hop before a euphoric instrumental that contrasts the depressing lyrics of “Baby, be the class clown, I'll be the beauty queen in tears.” Afterwards she sings “It's a new art form,” an ominous revelation of the sound that would soon dominate and revolutionize present pop music.
Throughout Pure Heroine exists an existential dryness. “We’re so happy, even when we’re smilin’ out of fear,” leads way to an eventual doomsday sound. “400 Lux” has a siren wailing in its background which takes over the forefront. “Team” where she gleefully sings “we’re on each other’s team”– after a hypnotic “send the call out” repetition in the intro– models after soldiers marching in a battle. Listeners are getting equal parts fairytale princess, and equal parts anti-hero energy. If “Medieval pop” had been a thing, the darkness present in Lorde had remastered the sound. “Ribs” contains an echo of hallowed out, singing angels for its first 47 seconds before the Pure Heroine can even get in her words.
On “Ribs” she stresses out about getting older– ultimately revealing layer by layer the album’s battle is actually against the thought of aging. Rather than wanting to come-of-age, Lorde wants to fight against it. While most teens will die for the opportunity to leave the house and be their own adult, Lorde is already aware that will come with more responsibilities and intensified emotions.
This rolls into “Buzzcut Season,” which sways in the rhythm of sophisti-pop. Lorde’s being exposed to the imagery of war– and not just the internal battle of growing up– but actual war depicted around her (“explosions on TV” and “the men up on the news”). Much of what “Pure Heroine” successfully captures is how media consumption informs adolescence. While she yearns for innocence, as expressed with the lyrics “We're all the things that we do for fun,” song by song that’s corrupted. “Glory and Gore” marks a cry to arms, the production work of Joel Little being more present– drawing comparisons to what he would eventually do for Broods on 2014’s Evergreen . Lorde labels audiences as “gladiators,” the ones who consume glamor and violence.
On the ten track LP, Lorde lets us know that she’s now a part of the system. On the bonus track, “Bravado” – which first appeared on her 2012 EP, The Love Club – she extends the conversation. “I’ll fight my own bravado,” she cries– knowing that since fame has to her because of her talent, she may ultimately have to succumb to the very glamor and intense imagery that she so heavily criticized on Pure Heroine .
In years after Pure Heroine ’s success, Lorde has found even more critical acclaim with 2017’s Melodrama , which purged further into the emotions of coming of age, and realizing love. Pure Heroine is not as reliant on love, but rather the implications of media overload. Not surprisingly, Lorde has avoided being overexposed in mainstream media. Particularly by the release of 2021’s Solar Power , which connects her to nature. She told ‘Vogue’ in 2021 that each of her albums are inspired by a different drug. Surprisingly, Pure Heroine , is not instructed by actual heroin, but rather… alcohol???
Well then… watching TV while drunk can get a little overwhelming, but also slightly amusing as everything slows down around you. It makes sense from the drunk, slurred vocals on the closing track, “A World Alone,” where Lorde is aware, “the people are talking, the people are talking.”
“Buzzcut Season” for being the most direct in its lyricism and revealing the theme of the album the best it can.
“Team” for its bright and dramatic chorus, as well as the pitter patter of the hip hop beat.
“Tennis Court” for being a strong opener that establishes the identity of Pure Heroine .
Key Tracks
Pure Heroine is conceptually sync through its lyrics and production. Lorde expresses with earnesty what it’s like to be an adolescent who is cynical and skeptical of everything, but ultimately has no choice but to join in the system to gain a sense of freedom. This is one of the strongest debuts in the history of pop music, as it’s well informed and vivid with metaphors and allusions.