[REVIEW] Lorde's 'Virgin' transcends her past works with instinctive emotion and grace

The 4th studio album finds Lorde transcending her previous works with grit, intent and effortless emotional prowess.

It's a quote said about many artists over the decades, but there really is no one like Lorde.

No one would’ve expected the overnight success that came with ‘Royals’ in 2013, a stark commentary on fame matched with fantastic choruses and warbling production. Then the debut album True Heroine arrived, cementing her as a modern superstar with maturity far beyond her years, all while only being 16. With each passing release, up until the summery detour of 2021’s Solar Power, Lorde has refused to conform to any type of box in the music world. She releases when the time is right, the lyricism hits in places you wouldn’t expect and the music has never been diluted in pursuit of record sales; and she’s still maintained her winning streak from 2013 with every album since, albeit in each album’s own unique way. 

So it comes as no surprise that her 4th studio album, Virgin, after 4 long years is somewhat of a curveball. You’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise: the fantastic first single ‘What Was That’ feels intrinsically coded to Lorde, its melodramatic build up into this euphoric drop fuelled by the spirit of dance music as a movement. (Even the reference of blue light felt like a callback to Melodrama’s first single ‘Green Light’.) But then the album kicks off with ‘Hammer’, with its jittery synths and high inducing harmonies, it makes sure you are aware that this is a whole different beast. Gone is the grandiose production of True Heroine, the indulgent ballad-esque feelings of Melodrama and the sunny breeziness of Solar Power. This is a raw, instinctive body of work that truly feels like nothing she’s done before.

Being the first album not produced by Jack Antonoff, this time the production is fronted by electronic mastermind Jim E-Stack, who’s bouncy and playful use of synths is brought to new highs within this deep collection of tracks. ‘Shapeshifter’ glides through on a UK garage inspired baseline with hints of strings and cello, (with guitar work from Mk.gee’s close collaborator Andrew Aged), as she contemplates the shifting of her body and identity over the years. ‘Favourite Daughter’ is one of the most danceable tracks on the album and still contains scathing honesty in its lyrics about trying your absolute best to make your family proud at the cost of one's well being: “Why did no one listen when you hit the notes from your heart?”

Vocally as well, Lorde is pushing herself to new levels here. There’s a real sense of release when she’s performing, you can almost feel the air sting through her teeth. On ‘Clearblue’, accompanied only by distortion and auto tune with barely any production, she pulls you in with this heartbreaking declaration of pregnancy tests and her family’s generations of “broken blood”. It makes sense that the Virgin listening parties took place in bathrooms and car parks, because these songs feel like she’s pouring her heart out to you in the bathroom stall while you try to wipe the sweat off your face in the mirror. If you hadn’t noticed, this album is laced with lyrics focusing on obliterating one’s view of their body. It's almost genderless, especially backed with how the album is designed. Some purposefully feel unfinished or drowned out, and it reflects the space Lorde was in when making this album. Case in point: ‘Man Of The Year’ is one of the most important songs she’s ever released. With its disarming guitar ballad introduction as she croons, “My babe can’t believe I’ve become someone else. Someone more like myself.”, unfolding into a pounding breakdown of distorted drums and cathartic vocal delivery that truly feels like a weight was taken off her shoulders making this track.

Other tracks like ‘Broken Glass’ with its bubbly progression feels so free flowing its astounding, with elements of gender dysphoria laced in the verses. It's surprising for an artist that has worn her heart on her sleeve since the very start, that she is still able to give more and more of herself to her artistry. ‘If She Could See Me Now’ is a bit of an outlier here, being the only track that contains an interpolation, the track in question: the fantastic ‘Suga Suga’ by Baby Bash. I personally find that this track is when the album starts to feel a bit like retreading old ground, especially with how bombastic the first half of the album is sonically. However, this is a minor gripe due to the lyricism being so strong. “Whenever you break me I’d watch it happen, like an angel looking down.” With this being a very personal album, it just works. 

Then the closer ‘David’ begins. A slow burning, confessional ballad of giving everything you have to someone, while you slowly lose yourself the more you give. Saving the best till last is the perfect way to describe this track. Lorde pours everything she has into this song: “I made you god cause it was all that I knew how to do.” The cascading buildup of chimes, guitars and pianos all culminating into one last reflective line: “Tell it to em.” And that’s it. No grand finish or anything additional, just a pure quick cut ending. It's a beautiful end to a gripping 35 minutes of raw emotion and feelings. 

All in all, this is probably not the album fans were expecting from her. But that does not matter when this is easily one of the most poignant releases of her career. This project will be seen as gospel to the masses of confused teenagers and dishevelled 20 somethings struggling with their place in the world, for good reason. Because as Lorde has shown with Virgin, it is never too late to be born again.

★★★★