Lorde is back in the spotlight and her element, and deservedly so. “Melodrama” is a magnum opus that transcends the pop classification; its coming-of-age story is immortal, reaching emotional depths that pure pop never does. She is also far too reclusive in public and exclusive with her musical appearances to be a “pop star.” But she knows how to make an anthemic, pulsating elegy to lost love. And while she’s used an upbeat breakup song as her comeback before — see 2017’s incredible “Green Light” — her newest single, “What Was That,” is not a retread but a return to her lane, with a stronger sense of voice and storytelling than her previous high-water mark. The narrative success more than makes up for the production, which doesn’t build a moving musical landscape to accompany the story world.
The verses on this song are lyrical achievements, with Lorde fully inhabiting her character to amazing effect. Instead of turning to the breakup immediately, she first describes a small apartment, with the mirrors obscured because, as she sings quietly, confessionally, “I can’t see myself yet.” There is an entire album’s story in that line, another coming-of-age opus, and a poignant, easily recognizable hope in that “yet.” The nondescript friends who “talk current affairs” in the second verse feel real with even a skeletal description, which is both funny (in reducing the turbulence of the times to “current affairs”) and sad (in demonstrating how the breakup has consumed her entire attention, marginalizing all the chaos of the world). The only point where the songwriting falters is the chorus, where there are scarcely any words: almost empty space with a little metallic synthesizer skulking around the stereo, no instrument rising to carry the great momentum of the song to a climax.
Uncharacteristically for Lorde, the production on the song disappoints. Moving on from super-producer Jack Antonoff, who built “Melodrama” and “Solar Power” with her, she teams with Jim-E Stack and Dan Nigro here, and while they draw on the “Melodrama” sound, they lack that record’s spark. The clattering drums are the highlight, yet are sometimes drowned in the mix, and the synthesizer soundscape misses the character of “Melodrama.” The swell between the second verse and pre-chorus is a nice twist on the typical pop structure, building on the song’s story. Lorde says her heartbreak “might not let me go,” which leads into a great open space of only swelling instrumentation. Perhaps it is her protagonist’s mind wandering within the grief or visualizing a space beyond it. This elaborates and, with its multiple interpretations, contemplates the narrative world. And while an instrumental palette with more character would have created an even more impactful moment, here the production team succeeds.
The story of self-discovery unfolding just beneath the surface of the song’s breakup is amazingly appropriate for the season at Notre Dame, as we seniors wait to graduate. The woman, subsumed in the city, still unknown to herself in a tiny apartment, seems like a vision of many of us. I know there have been times this year when I have tried to decipher who I want to become and realized that “I can’t see myself yet.” But I, like Lorde’s protagonist and song, have held to the hope of that “yet.” I believe I will part the curtains and meet myself. Everyone is a little lost and alienated from themselves, but since that’s hard to admit, we have Lorde to sing it for us.
