Virgin, Reviewed
Virgin is the most ‘Ella’ Lorde has ever been.
If Lorde thought Solar Power was the last album she was going to put out, Virgin is definitely the album that ropes her back into music, permanently. How could she not? Now having earned the label as the voice of her generation, Virgin is Lorde diving head first into becoming an artist at her most honest; to herself and to her audience.
In her recent Apple Music interview with Zane Lowe, Lorde said, “[Virgin] is an accurate portrait of me as I am, not how I want to be. It’s a photo of yourself that you don’t love but know captures something true about you.” I think that perfectly summarises the cornerstone of Virgin’s thesis, the unceasing transparency in her truth, while delivering tracks that make you want to dance your socks off.
In its entirety, Virgin is sharp around the edges and does not hold back. It’s her least Lorde album to date, yet the most Ella. Virgin holds both an abrasive and transparent quality sonically and thematically. The relentless sincerity in her lyricism is her asking her audience to keep up and not miss a single beat. The music production is primal in nature and the truth in her lyrics is searing.
Standing face to face with the harsh truths of her legacy in a first person perspective, she unravels this enigma she named “Lorde” in such brutal honesty. Come as you are, but don’t settle because the truth is ever changing and in a constant state of flux. She allows herself to step into a state of impermanence, symbolised by her using duct tape across her chest and toying with the expression of her gender and sexuality, and being fine with not having all the answers. This bravery in embracing such truths is what makes Virgin possibly the album of the year.
One of the reasons why I’ve been such a fan of Lorde—since I was 12 years old, mind you—was because of her unique taste. From the teenage angst of Pure Heroine, to the messy coming of age spectacle of Melodrama, to the polarising Solar Power, and now the unabated Virgin, I have grown up alongside her music soundtracking my life; it’s hard to not feel a sense of attachment to her.
But the relationship is two-way. She signed into the record label Universal Music Group (UMG) when she was only sixteen. She raised an entire generation whilst growing up alongside them. That is a lot of pressure to deal and power to reckon with one can assume has on her personal life. She talks about the roles she has to take on for this very legacy directly in “Shapeshifter", and reveals a more personal relationship with success and how it ties to her relationship with her mother in “Favourite Daughter”.
Hammer (7.3/10)
“Don’t know if it’s love or if it’s ovulation / When you’re holding a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
The binaural primal intro has already earned itself praise as at least the top 5 songs on the album. A reddit poster highlighted how the intro is similar to that of the sounds of an MRI scanner, which I thought was super appropriate, given the album cover. Hammer welcomes the listener to the atmosphere in Virgin: cold, yet inviting. Its chorus is laden with a beat you can go crazy to. It’s an invitation to let loose.
What Was That (7.1/10)
“Since I was seventeen, I gave you everything / Now we wake from a dream, well, baby, what was that?”
Addicting and playing it safe, What Was That does an excellent job as the first lead single. It ropes you back into the Lorde universe by reminding you who Lorde is, and what she’s capable of with her music. It’s radio friendly, but still holds that similar edge ever present throughout her songs on the album.
Shapeshifter (8.2/10)
“Give ‘em nothing personal / So I’m not affected.”
The vocals at the end of the song akins itself as the Supercut of the album, the whole “in my head I do everything right” words unsaid in that simple melody where she just cries out in the outro. I absolutely adore the bittersweet bridge. In Shapeshifter, Lorde reflects the roles she has had to put on in her career and personal life while maintaining a wall as a method of self-preservation. She’s coming to terms with the fact that maybe self-preservation is the thing that’s preventing her from being sincere with herself and her audience.
Man Of The Year (8.5/10)
“My babe can’t believe I’ve become someone else / Someone more like myself.”
I thought the song was too quiet. Obviously, I was mistaken. MOTY is a unique song that’s minimally produced, but still palatable enough for the radio. It’s a triumphant score embracing the jagged realities of our persona(s). It’s tonally sarcastic while maintaining a commitment to deliver a level of truthfulness, produced with dry snares and an alarming beat at the end where everything falls apart and catches up to speed. It’s up there in my top 5.
Favourite Daughter (8.8/10)
“‘Cause I’m an actress, all of the medals I won for ya / Panic attack just to be your favourite daughter.”
As a fan, I have always wondered about her relationship with her family. Her mother, Sonja, is a successful poet and Lorde’s touchstone. Lorde internalises this crave for validation in a catchy track by diving deep into the pressures of being the perfect daughter to her mother. It’s so heartbreaking, how honest she’s being. I interpret this song as Lorde grappling with the never-ending chase for external validation, whether it be from her fans or her own mother.
Current Affairs (8.9/10)
“Mama, I’m so scared / Were you ever like this? / Once you went out on the edge?”
Single release material. The song timidly starts with a lead guitar playing a single note, but opens up completely in the chorus. This song makes me want to let go of all my inhibitions and just go batshit crazy. It doesn’t really have a release, apart from the recurring sampled bit from “Morning Love” by Dexta Daps. Some might say that it feels completely out of place within the context of the song, but those who get it, get it.
Clearblue (8.3/10)
“Your metal detector hits my precious treasure, I’m nobody’s daughter / baby, I’m free, I’m free.”
Both poetic and scientific, Clearblue delves into the idea of pregnancy; how the event allows someone to not only change your personhood, but your genetic makeup. It’s her best lyrics on the record, and she honours this by allowing the lyrics to simply sing with no extra production to fluff it up or hide their truth.
GRWM (7.2/10)
“Maybe you’ll finally know who you wanna be / A grown woman in a baby tee.”
GRWM, meant for Grown Woman. The melody in the verse reminds me of Dominoes. Its themes are bittersweet and introspective with a sweet release. It’s a solid song, but the weakest on the record.
Broken Glass (6.9/10)
“It might be months of bad luck / But what if it’s just broken glass?”
Raw, honest and real. The last song she finished before the album’s release. Lorde has mentioned that this one was the hardest to get out of her system as it touches on her eating disorder. She hated talking about her eating disorder, seemingly to even downplay her struggles grappling with it. While the themes and melodies are enough to keep me hooked, I can’t say I deeply resonated with it.
If She Could See Me Now (9/10)
“Baby, whenever you’d break me / I’d watch it happen, like an angel looking down.”
I absolutely adore the melody in the chorus. I can’t lie, this one snuck up on me. The lyrics aren’t anything groundbreaking, but it’s the sentiment of the song that gets to me. In ISCSMN, she addresses how the struggles she went through as a teen and young adult has shaped her to become the woman she is now.
David (9.3/10)
“I made you God ‘cause it was all that I knew how to do / But I don’t belong to anyone.”
If there was a perfect song on this record, and coincidentally the most ‘Lorde’, it’s definitely David. It starts off slow with the song reaching its climax in typical Lorde fashion. The dissonant keys at the end of the song with the final lyric “tell it to em” snaps you back into reality, like the whole journey of Virgin was a lucid dream. It goes to show that Lorde always knows how to make a grand entrance with a song like Hammer, but ultimately an expert at exiting a scene with David.
Is this a solid album? For sure. Is 34 minutes enough to sustain itself as an album? I don’t think so. I say this as a fan but also as someone who holds an objective opinion on music. If anything, Virgin feels like Lorde sharing a snapshot of a time in her life, unsparing and precise; which was why she wasted no time dilly dallying.
While this was the artistic vision she was striving for, as a fan, I couldn’t get enough. Surely this album could do with a couple more songs if she stayed in that mental headspace a little longer, there could be more interesting things to explore. Maybe I'm just being greedy as a fan given that her comebacks are sparse and far in between. But with so many people awaiting every single thing she releases, this felt like a missed opportunity. Virgin is good enough on its own, but feels unfinished.
When it comes to the stylistic choices on Virgin, I’m obsessed with her economical approach on reusing certain sounds and textures—it lends itself to the cohesive tone of the album. However, I do wish that Lorde explored more of the traditional instruments in her music, especially in Virgin. It does make me wonder whether her collaboration with Charli xcx in 2024 which she admitted to have happened in the middle of creating Virgin really solidified her decision in making this album electronic-synth-pop heavy.
The production in the album is dry and icy, but something that backs up the album’s core concepts and themes. That is to say, it’s not my favourite kind of production. But I think this antithetical sound choice in cutting and abrasive Virgin as compared to the lengthy and flowing Solar Power directly portrays this stark difference of Lorde’s rebirth. It felt like the natural path for her to take, coming down from the whirlwind high (or low) of SP.
The elementary writing style in Virgin that completely juxtaposes her typically elaborated songwriting in previous albums also reflected that. I think it was her artistic choice to write songs in such directness and simplicity, like something you could’ve written it in the Notes app, similar to that of Brat, an album that has made a considerable impact on pop culture since last year. Taking that into consideration, I do wonder to what extent does an album by a peer like Brat would influence her creative choices in making Virgin. Either way, this awareness of the impact art has on current times and vice versa, is what makes Lorde such a sensitive and brilliant artist.
Here’s the truth: Virgin does not hold all the answers. It asks questions more than it answers them. One striking realisation I’ve had about this album is it’s essentially about Lorde talking about herself in relation to herself. She used to tell stories in her music, sure, but rarely does she allow herself to truly revel in the truths of her stories without embellishing them. I’m incredibly proud of Lorde and the direction she has taken with this album: from the promo, to the creative decisions she’s made, and the music videos. I think Virgin is such an important album for her to make. Writing this review made me appreciate it even more.
Creating cohesive albums was always her trademark, her discography is there to prove this, and boy is Virgin one cohesive album. From the sonical palette, to the colours, to the textures. It doesn’t ask you to become someone you are not, instead it reveals who you are, and I can’t be more excited to step into and sit in the world she’s invited us into—to allow the unceasing honesty of Virgin to soundtrack this current phase in my life.
With my top 3 at the moment being If She Could See Me Now, David and Current Affairs, I give Virgin 4.2 out of 5 stars.
love this!!!!
I don't listen to Lorde like that but now I will