"Solar Power" And Embracing Your Comfort Zone
Learning to temper expectations for your favs even if it means a weaker album.
I tweeted this a few hours before Lorde’s third studio album Solar Power was released after noticing a divide between critics who got early access to the album and the fans who knew they were going to get another classic. There’s already been a bit of a rift between fans and critics when it came to this album’s lead singles, as a lot of people have expressed disappointment over the album’s perceived direction. It launched with the title track coming out with a big choreographed video and a provocative cover that shows Lorde walking over the shot, ass in full view as the sun beams on her yellow clothes. But when the song came out, the reception was… muted.
After Melodrama proved to be the anthemic ode to heartbreak and growing up too fast, people expected something a little more… lively. “Solar Power” was a brisk, lighthearted summer song about Lorde enjoying her time in the sun and hanging out with her friends. It was such a straightforward summer song that it almost felt unnatural coming from Lorde, who always made music that seemed bigger than herself. Compare this to the lead single of Melodrama, “Green Light”. A big, triumphant song that soared across the city lights and tries to find euphoria in her recent heartbreak. Thriving in the single life while the pain of her recent breakup still lingers like a dagger in her heart. “Solar Power” is… nice. It’s fun, cute, listenable. Not something that rises to the level of “Green Light though. Hell, the song became more infamous for looking and sounding like an Old Navy commercial rather than the song itself. This was funny as a bit on the video’s weird cultish atmosphere and the general pleasantness of the song, but as an actual criticism, it always rubbed me the wrong way.
Because what exactly constitutes an “Old Navy commercial song”? That it sounds nice and is generally inoffensive? I guess that’s true, but how does that work as a criticism? Is it a negative? A positive? Does any song that’s nice and inoffensive count as a commercial song? You can’t really decide on what counts as a “commercial song” because that could be anything. I recently found out “Future Power Sources” by Marlowe has started being used in Gatorade commercials. Does that make it a commercial song now? I even started people saying that about the new Lizzo song. Which is ridiculous, because Lizzo has ALWAYS made commercial music and it doesn’t affect the quality of the songs at all. Bragging that you’re eventually going to have sex with Drake sure is Old Navy behavior. You see how using that as criticism can start to feel like a reach?
I think the main issue with calling anything “commercial music” is that there’s a quiet assumption that it means the music is lesser for appealing to mass marketing. That there’s no creative vision or artistic drive behind these songs beyond sounding good against a commercial for laptops or whatever. So the idea of an artist as beloved and celebrated as Lorde doing it… that’s a problem, right? How could Lorde, a revolutionary who people insist changed the direction of pop music forever, stoop to such a lower standard as an artist?
That implication when it comes to Lorde is… odd. Like, this is Lorde, we’re talking about right? The artist whose biggest hit is explicitly about not wanting to be accepted into the hierarchy of celebrity worship. In fact, a lot of Pure Heroine, in general, feels more like Lorde wanting to be the ruler of her own realm rather than the world she does live in. She was kind of an edgy teenager in that era, sure, but there was still a poise and maturity in her music that made her stand out above every other pop artist in that time. The reason “Royals” is pinned as a turning point in pop music is because it strips itself of the theatrics of pop stardom. It likes being at the top, it just doesn’t want to leave its audience in a lower class.
Yet, the song from Pure Heroine that stood the test of time above even “Royals” turned out to be one of its deep cuts, “Ribs”. I don’t think this is controversial to say, but even I know that “Ribs” is Lorde’s magnum opus. It’s an ode to growing up, transitioning into adulthood, and realizing the memories that make up your childhood are quickly coming to an end. The people around you will move on to their own lives, and soon enough you’ll have to face reality all on your own. Lorde had said in a recent PR interview that she was in a weird, uncertain place when she wrote it. She wasn’t sure what the future looked like for her, but the only thing she knew how to do was convince herself that it’ll be okay. Ultimately what makes Lorde such a brilliant songwriter is that she’s just as vulnerable and scared as her fans are. And she can put into words just how beautiful coming of age can be, while at the same time confronting how terrifying it can be.
That is the basis of what made her second album, Melodrama, such an incredible experience. People expected her sophomore album to veer into a less mainstream-friendly direction, yet somehow the opposite happened. The lead single, as explained earlier, was this big bombastic anthem that felt bigger than itself. Taking the “melodrama” of a particularly bad breakup and raising the stakes to Lorde’s most vulnerable and emotive level. Ironically, it actually meant less mainstream success for Lorde as pop music had a very awkward transitional year in 2017, but the critics ADORED this album. And I mean… yeah, I did too. A lot. I dare say it was the soundtrack to my high school graduation and my first year of college. I was exactly in the right place and time for this album. I hadn’t gone through a breakup, but I had closed the book on a friendship that meant the world to me (while still having a romantic history), and I was becoming an adult. Living on my own, making my own decisions, deciding my future. And thus these lyrics of wanting to be reckless and explore the world, make new memories and mistakes, Melodrama hit me in a way no other album that year ever did. It’s one of my favorite albums of all time, and honestly maybe my favorite pop album aside from Marianas Trench’s Astoria. Sure enough, the album was so popular with critics and fans that Lorde had officially become one of the greatest pop stars in the world.
But maybe she shouldn’t be.
I say this as someone who adores this album and considers it one of their all-time favorites, I think Melodrama kind of screwed up how history views Lorde as an artist. Or at the very least, our memory of Lorde was a bit twisted by this album. And that’s especially relevant when talking about Solar Power and why I feel the discourse around this album has been kind of misguided. I remember seeing takes around the title track especially on how it barely feels like Lorde or how they’re disappointed that it doesn’t go as hard. Even reviews of this album have pointed out that the album doesn’t really have any hits. Most of these songs feel like demos, or if they do have a pop appeal it’s not on the anthemic or propulsive level that Melodrama did. And it goes without saying, but the album, in general, isn’t as good as Melodrama. The production is weak and stale, Lorde mostly sticks with a willowy falsetto, and sites like Stereogum will outright call the album “kind of cringe” because of its optimistic, almost naive view of life. And that bugs me a little. Because no, this album isn’t Melodrama. It never will be. Because Melodrama in itself was an anomaly. We didn’t forget that, did we? Part of why “Green Light” failed as a single is because some people outright hated it at first. It got critically low callout scores on radio because it was such a jarring shift from Lorde’s previous music and 2017 was not in a position for pop stars to take risks like that. She didn’t even get any Grammys off this album! This wasn’t always what Lorde was about. Then again, what was Lorde about?
I think it’s actually pretty simple; Lorde is herself. She’s a girl from New Zealand whose trying to figure her life out and she puts those feelings in song form. Lorde doesn’t like a lot of attention drawn to herself. She’s not a fan of spectacle, nor does she really want to be a part of it. She doesn’t see herself as better than the people who do, but she’d rather just keep to herself and figure things out her own way. Lorde describes a lot of her music as being time capsules, moments that show you where she is in that current moment. And I think once you start seeing that, the decisions on Solar Power start making more sense. Pure Heroine was a coming-of-age album that saw Lorde trying to make sense of the world around her. Mostly keeping to herself and her friends trying to find her place, whether it’d be rulers of their own kingdom or rebelling against the expectations that the world forms around them. Melodrama saw Lorde at her most vulnerable. So torn up and distraught over a recent breakup that every emotion at once surges through her veins, and the only way to get through it is to indulge in those emotions. Quietly, or loudly.
So what is Solar Power? What’s going on in Lorde’s life for this album to exist? Well, things are honestly pretty good for Lorde. She took a hiatus from all things social media, including deleting apps and making her phone greyscale so it was less tempting to hop on. She started going to the beach a lot. Things with her current boyfriend are steady. She’s just feeling healthier and content with the life she lives. Which is why this album seems naive in its practices of self-love. “Mood Ring” in particular caught some slack for essentially sounding like “White Woman’s Instagram” without the satire. Even “Solar Power” got flack for its self-satisfied attitude. Admittedly, I agreed with those sentiments at first. I worried that maybe it was a sign that Lorde was headed down a similar path to Childish Gambino. So caught up in their own hype that they make albums that make sense to them, but no one else. But I stopped thinking that when I realized how much of “making this album for herself” is more of an attribute than a criticism. Lorde herself said that she isn’t expecting this to be all that big or successful, it’s just what she needs right now. And she invites anyone else to join in and just “chill” alongside her. Let the rays of the sun soak up your skin and remind you that even in a stress-filled world, there are little things in life worth appreciating.
I think from there that’s where I started liking Solar Power more as an album. Is it great or among the best of the year? Nah. It’s fine. It’s enjoyable all the way through with a couple of duds that make me not super enthused to come back to it. I’m not super enthused about “Man With an Axe” and “Dominoes” in particular, both songs that are fine but disposable. Meanwhile, “Leader of a New Regime” keeps passing me by every time I revisit the album. But still, the album opens strong with “The Path”, maybe my favorite song thus far. A song that outright spells for the listener to not see Lorde as a “savior” and instead just follow whatever path the sun shines in front of you. It has the whimsy and beauty that is at this album’s best without being too sleepy or willfully naive. I still really like “Solar Power” as a soft summer jam that really sells the sun motif of this album. “Stoned At The Nail Salon” and “Fallen Fruit” are very pretty reflective tracks that keep this album on the ground and feature some great instrumental flourishes from Jack Antanoff. I know some people roll their eyes at the lyrics of “Secrets From A Girl (Who’s Seen It All)”, but I see it as a bright moment of optimism that things can and will get better, even with the bizarre spoken outro from Robyn. “Big Star” is a beautiful tribute to Lorde’s late dog that ruminates in the faded memories and bright silhouette of someone who meant the world to you. “Mood Ring”… yeah, I do agree that the satire Lorde claims that the song has isn’t very clear but instrumentally it’s still one of my favorites. Plus, you can hear a bit of that desperation in some of the lyrics and delivery. It’s not all bad.
“Oceanic Feeling” is where the album all comes together. I’m not wild about it musically, but lyrically it’s one of my favorites on the album. It’s a muted coda where Lorde once again looks around at the world around her. The beach that brought her comfort in her years away from her phone, and the scattered memories that range from traumatic like her brother’s car crash and the black cherry lipstick she bore at the start of her career. There’s something melancholic about the way Lorde expresses that she’s happy. It’s not a burst of emotion like she experienced on Melodrama. It’s simply comfort. Comfort in where she is, comfort in what her legacy may be, and comfort in her future. The album frequently has this fear of popularity and being seen as more than yourself, but this is the first time the album really stops and accepts that yes, she does hold a place in the world through her music. She doesn’t really think much of it though. Because that lipstick is gathering dust and has been long left in the past. Does that mean she found all the answers? No. But she’s taking it one step at a time. There will likely be a day where she does find the answers and even considers leaving her music fully in the past as she moves on to better days. But that’s not right now though. Right now, she’s just in the moment. At the very least, she’ll know when it happens.
It’s that “in the moment” feeling that made me really click with Solar Power. It’s not just about letting yourself embrace the sun in the sky or the pleasantries in your life. It’s also about just being happy with what you have. In a way, that’s taught me to be less harsh of the album’s flaws. Because what it does wrong is in all honestly very minuscule. I’m not really a fan of how lightweight the production is, but that’s not at all Jack Antanoff’s fault. The guy has had a weird hate streak going on with people who act in bad faith music discourse, and this has to be one of the least justified instances of that hate brigade. What else could he really do with what Lorde asked of him? Antanoff excels in sweeping crescendos and grand musical moments. Solar Power actively works against that, and for what he was given I still thought he did fine. Is the album a bit preachy with its message? Especially with songs that are maybe a bit too self-satisfied to relate to? Maybe, but Lorde essentially made this album for herself. Just because I can’t fully relate to it, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the moments when it does work. And even if these songs aren’t as good as Lorde’s best work, so what? The last thing Lorde wants is to be seen as unbreakable. To be hailed as a mastermind in the same way Kanye West or Taylor Swift wants us to see them. It’s just not her style, and she’s perfectly fine knowing that people might not like this album. And that’s good! Idolizing artists is dangerous, and we could end up with people like, well, Kanye, who can essentially procrastinate an album and share it through expensive listening parties without actually releasing the album while being proclaimed as a genius by his fans and the industry. Lorde doesn’t have to make a masterpiece every time, and it’s healthier to just accept that sometimes artists can make acceptable and decent albums.
Music discourse puts a lot of importance on music that’s supposed to define the zeitgeist, but I think there should be room for albums that are just good at what they do. Solar Power won’t make any year-end lists of mine, but I still respect it a whole lot for being an exploration of Lorde as an artist and how finding comfort in her own skin has led her to make an album that means the world to her, even if I don’t entirely get it. And I don’t need to. All I am is a fan, and I’m going to like what Lorde brings to the table as long as she still has that sharp songwriting and unique, coming-of-age perspective.