Lorde

About Lorde

Ella Yelich-O'Connor started writing songs in her bedroom in Auckland when she was thirteen. By sixteen, she had a number one hit in basically every country that matters. That's the kind of thing that probably messes you up a bit, but she handled it better than most would have.

Universal signed her at twelve after someone sent them a video of her performing at a school talent show. They paired her with Joel Little, a producer who'd been in a New Zealand rock band nobody remembers. Together they made "Royals" in 2013, a song about being broke and annoyed by rap videos full of Cristal and Maybachs. It hit number one on the Billboard Hot 100, which almost never happens for artists from New Zealand who aren't on country radio. The rest of Pure Heroine followed that same formula: minimal beats, her voice low and close, lyrics about suburban boredom and being young without any of the usual bullshit about it being magical. "Tennis Court" and "Team" became shortcuts for a whole mood.

She was suddenly the voice of disaffected youth, which is a weird job for a teenager. The album went triple platinum. She won Grammys. Then she disappeared for a while because that's what you do when you're seventeen and need to figure out who you are when cameras aren't pointed at you.

Melodrama came out in 2016 when she was nineteen, and it's the album people still argue about in terms of whether it's better than Pure Heroine. She worked with Jack Antonoff, who's produced half of pop music at this point, and made something bigger and messier. It's a breakup album that doubles as a house-party concept record. "Green Light" sounds like running out of a bad situation. "The Louvre" and "Liability" are as good as everyone says. "Perfect Places" asks where you're supposed to find meaning when you're young and nothing feels like enough. It hit number one in the US and confirmed she wasn't going anywhere.

Then she disappeared again. Four years this time. Moved to Antarctica for a bit, actually, for some climate research thing. When she came back with Solar Power in 2021, it divided people. She traded the darkness for something sunnier and more laid-back, all acoustic guitars and psychedelic California vibes. Some fans felt betrayed. Others thought it was exactly what she needed to make. It's her least commercially successful album, which probably bothered her label more than it bothered her.

She's been relatively quiet since then. Works on music when she feels like it. Shows up at festivals. Stays off social media mostly. She's twenty-eight now, which means she's spent half her life being famous. Whatever comes next probably won't sound like anything she's done before, because that seems to be the pattern.

Her shows are quietly intense. She commands attention through stillness as much as movement, the crowd hanging on every articulation. There's an unselfconscious intensity to her presence—no overcompensation, just focus. People come reverent and leave wrung out.

Known for Green Light, Royals, Solar Power, Ribs, Liability

See Lorde Live