Album Review: Solar Power // Lorde

0
1595

It is well documented that Lorde has synesthesia, a neurological condition whereby she visualises certain colours when musical notes are played. The New Zealand singer-songwriter can shape the tone of her music to reflect the emotional colour palette she envisages. For mere mortals, this has brought us the dark monochromatic hues of Pure Heroine and the blend of bright neon and dusky ochres of Melodrama. As a changed world emerges from the shadows cast by a pandemic and Lorde tries to shun the trappings of fame, what colour palette will we see used to paint her third album, Solar Power?

Following the powerful study of teenage life on her brilliant debut, the New Zealander transported us into the twilight world of parties and the beautifully observed pain of break-ups with her equally brilliant sophomore album. Lorde has given hints to the tincture of Solar Power; stepping away from social media, famously setting her phone to greyscale, and referencing the importance of connecting with the natural world. To add to the mix, Lorde told The New York Times “it’s a weed album” when asked if this was an acid album.

Whatever the emotional influences on the album, it is clear from the opener, ‘The Path’, that this is a record crafted in soft pastel shades. A dreamy swaying rhythm that has a Mamas and Papas summery vibe, and hushed effortless vocals as Lorde pleads “Let’s hope the sun will show us the path.” It feels like the singer is rejecting the post Melodrama spotlight in favour of simpler times: Laurel Canyon in the late 1960s. The influence is particularly strong on ‘California’, a conflicted love story about the excesses of LA celebrity culture—“But it got hard to grow up with your cool hand around my neck”—and on the beautifully understated track ‘Fallen Fruit’. The latter is a contemporary ode to the flower power generation; the psychedelic-tinged imagery feels particularly poignant in 2021—an echo of more innocent times for our ravaged planet. 

The plea for action burns bright on ‘Leader of a New Regime’, which talks of “Wearing SPF 3000 for the ultraviolet rays”. Although focused on escaping some environmental dystopian event it could easily apply to political or social change. It’s a breathy, ethereal call to arms.

The laid-back folk ambience permeates every groove on the record. Yet, while this boasts a heavy Jack Antonoff influence, it is no folklore or evermore; here the earthy browns are replaced with golden yellows and pale blues. The darkened woods are replaced with beaches and expansive skies. The colour palette feels appropriately light and summery for an album built around escaping fame, and focusing on mother nature. It also manages to sound natural and organic; the instrumentation is largely acoustic and the tracks flow together like a river meandering through the New Zealand landscape. This isn’t a record with sharp dramatic turns but a carefully constructed journey, a sequence to play as the artist intended.

Tonally the album is perfectly consistent but this isn’t all a Laurel Canyon love child. There are nods to ’90s pop with the Primal Scream-esque chorus of the title track, while on ‘Mood Ring’ and ‘Oceanic Feeling’ we are treated to subtle percussive beats that wouldn’t feel out of place on a George Michael record. Lorde also calls on Clairo and Phoebe Bridgers to provide luscious harmonies.

Read More: Track Review: Solar Power // Lorde

Those who preferred the darker ambience may be disappointed, but a gentler soundscape doesn’t mean Lorde is losing her touch. A directional change this may be, but it maintains the sharply observed lyrics of its predecessors. On ‘Mood Ring’, the singer takes an acerbic dig at the excesses of wellness culture: “Can’t seem to fix my mood / Today it’s as dark as my roots.” On the Swift-sounding ‘Secrets of a Girl (Who’s Seen It All)’, we get a sharply observed spoken outro from Robyn, as she imparts advice to her younger self: “ Welcome to Sadness / The temperature is unbearable until you face it…Your emotional baggage can be picked up at carousel number two/ Please be careful, so it doesn’t fall on to someone you love”.

These retrospective observations are particularly acute on ‘Dominoes’. For an album that focuses on nature and healing, influenced by the ’60s Age of Aquarius, Lorde is quick to recognise that not all the answers lie in the past. Just like on ‘Mood Ring’, the irony is front and central as she chronicles a former abuser reinventing himself as a modern hipster: “I Know a girl who knows / Another girl who knows the woman that you hurt…It’s strange to see you smoking marijuana / You used to do the most cocaine”.

The strength of Solar Power is the way it blends homages to nature, rapier-sharp observations, and commentary on stardom while providing space for personal reflection. The album was delayed after the death of Lorde’s dog and ‘Big Star’ is a gentle memorial to Pearl. As Antonoff strums an electric guitar like an acoustic, the singer highlights the unselfish devotion provided by dogs whatever human failings: “Everyone knows that you’re too good for me, don’t they? / I’m a cheater, I lie, and I’m shy”. Such is the simple beauty that this song works as a memorial and also as a love song.

The album fittingly ends with ‘Oceanic Feeling’, which merges the sound and themes of the album. With breathy vocals above a soundscape that sounds like the love child of ’60s and ’90s pop, we view the sights and sounds of the New Zealander’s homeland, highlighting the beauty of our planet as she sings: “ Grateful for this offering / And all the livin’ things under the sun”. Past memories and future dreams merge as Lorde shares her epiphany: “Now the cherry-black lipstick’s gathering dust in a drawer / I don’t need her anymore / ‘Cause I got this power”.

Solar Power proves that Lorde does have the power; the power to weave a kaleidoscope of stunning songs to suit her mood and complete a trilogy of distinctly toned but masterful albums. This time she has also crafted the perfectly coloured imagery to suit the mood of a weary populous emerging from a dark pandemic with newfound love and appreciation for our natural world.

Words by 
Andrew Butcher


Support The Indiependent

We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here