lorde's new album is incredible

with additional reviews for new releases from oklou and smerz

this week on antiart: “the beating heart of electronic art pop”

Today, we’re diving into a genre some of you may not be entirely familiar with, and that is electronic art pop. It originated with collisions between avant-garde producers and mainstream artists. David Bowie’s work with Brian Eno on the Berlin trilogy, and well as the Kraftwerk discography are two simple, proto-electronic art pop starting points I can think of. Laurie Anderson bridged the gap between the ‘70s and ‘80s with landmark cuts like “O Superman”, as did Japan with “Quiet Life”. Moving firmly in the ‘80s, the sound became more widespread, with essential tracks like Kate Bush’s “Running Up That Hill”, Eurythmics “Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)”, and Yazoo’s “Only You” becoming worldwide smashes. Producer Trevor Horn also played a major role in producing some of the most catchy and danceable hits of the time, like Grace Jones’ “Slave To The Rhythm”, Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s “Relax” and Pet Shop Boy’s “Left To My Own Devices”, among others, increasing the genre’s commercial viability and club presence with the 12” vinyls becoming staples in ‘80s DJs toolkits (my dad was one, I would know.)

It advanced further into the ‘90s — despite synth pop and electronics taking a backseat to grunge — thanks largely in part to the popularity of Björk, who brought disparate sounds of IDM, vocal pop, trip-hop, orchestral string music and much more together for quintessential bodies of work like Post and Homogenic. Shoutout Imogen Heap and The Knife in the ‘00s too. Electronic art pop is a genre that never really went anywhere since it started, and it continues to thrive because of artists like Arca, FKA twigs, Sevdaliza, Eartheater, and others I’ll be discussing today. It’s a genre that will never go away because it always flies under the radar and maintains it’s cool. Plus, the direct emotions that pop as a genre can evoke are ever-relatable, and technology continues to advance so the sound is always on the bleeding edge of what tomorrow craves.

This week, I have three offerings for you. The first is a split review — think of it like using two different equations to get to the same mathematical answer — for the new Lorde album Virgin. I have teamed with Nathaniel who runs the popular Instagram page @unseasonedwater. I tapped him to help me write this because I really enjoyed his mini-review of the new Haim record on his Instagram stories. To me, music writing is really easy if you are a passionate fan and know your voice well, and I believe he definitely does, and I hope you think so too. Also tacked onto the end are two additional, highly favorable electronic art pop reviews, for Oklou’s choke enough and Smerz’s Big city life. Both of those records, like Lorde’s Virgin, have a self-assured point-of-view and sound palette that really rewards repeat listens. All three of these records made their way into my top ten records of the year list thus far. I was floored by what I heard, and I hope you are too.

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artist: lorde

album: virgin

grade: A-

NOTE: BOTH REVIEWERS GIVE THIS ALBUM AN A-

nathaniel’s take (@unseasonedwater)

This album captures Lorde’s ongoing journey to reclaim both her youth and her inner freedom. It’s deeply emotional and exposed, yet also has an overall sense of healing and acceptance. You can feel that Lorde created this album for herself. It’s an unfiltered and heartfelt journey through her experience of womanhood. She’s fully in tune with her body and unapologetically committed to her own formula when it comes to making pop music. Drawing on the rawness of Solar Power, the intense production of Melodrama, and the youthful heart of Pure Heroine, she and Jim-E Stack have come together to create some of her best work yet.

On “Virgin,” she rediscovers her feminine side in all its complexity—unpacking themes like familial trauma, adulthood, body image, and more. Jim-E Stack proves to be the perfect producer for this record; his style leans industrial and minimalistic, with clear influences from hip-hop, electronica, and funk—all genres that have shaped Lorde’s sound at different points in her career. I can understand why many fans might not love this record based off of their first listen because it really is much different from her past projects. That’s likely due to Lorde radically switching it up with each album, and that’s a pure testament to her artistry and a quality that will keep her in the conversation for decades to come. Dropping Virgin at a time when the charts are dominated by super-polished, highly manufactured pop stars makes it feel like a true breath of fresh air.

For me, it’s nearly impossible to outgrow the love I’ve had for Lorde since her 2013 debut because with each record, it feels like I’m growing up alongside her and I’m excited to see what themes and topics she’s going to tackle in 2029.

Standout Tracks: “Shapeshifter”, “David”, “Current Affairs”, “Broken Glass”, “Man Of The Year”

ryan’s take (@antiartryan)

Fair warning I’m going to go a bit long on this review here. Nathaniel’s assessment is a perfect encapsulation of what makes the record an A-, but if you’re still not convinced, maybe my more granular track-for-track breakdown will do it for you.

The context surrounding Lorde’s album, in my opinion, is affecting the way people are listening to it — in a way that I find a bit annoying. Everyone was so into her first two records — Pure Heroine and Melodrama — but because her third, Solar Power, was kind of a critical and commercial flop, people are now disregarding Virgin. Even Pitchfork basically just averaged out the scores of Solar Power (6.8) and Melodrama (8.8) to give the new record a 7.6. I imagine an internal email leak from GQ or Sports Illustrated, or whoever owns that godforsaken website now, would read something like: “We used to give her Best New Music, but she got too mainstream and hit a lull in her career — now she gets 6’s and 7’s forever.”

Her fans seem to feel the same way — disappointed with the minimalism and “lack of anthems” — not realizing that if this had dropped in 2021 instead of Solar Power, it would’ve hit like a meteor. Everyone would’ve loved it, praised it, and streams would’ve been through the roof. I’m of the mindset that artists can lose a hot streak but rekindle the flame with a great body of work — and that’s exactly what Lorde did on Virgin. She’s hitting the reset button.

Virgin is her most mature, reflective, and artistically sound statement yet. The excellent opener, “Hammer,” sets the tone sonically and thematically, just as she did on the song “Solar Power.” But instead of throwing her phone in the ocean, she’s using it more than ever — she’s tapped the fuck in. She’s back from the beaches of New Zealand and in the streets of New York City, absorbing the heatwaves, jackhammers, and tremblings from the subways, and filtering it into poetic sonnets. “There’s peace in the madness,” she plainly states — an acceptance of the unknowns of not just the city, but of life itself. She sounds more self-assured than ever before, so much so that she accepts the fluidity of her identity.

This becomes even clearer on the UK garage-influenced highlight “Shapeshifter,” where she claims she’s “not affected” by what life throws at her anymore. That’s because she’s done it all — “been the prize / the ball, the chain… been the siren / been the saint / been the fruit that leaves a stain.” She’s been a people pleaser, everything for everybody — and accepted that her experiences, both pleasant and painful, are what make her human. It’s a warp speed sonic journey through the tales of her back catalog and her memories in general.

The biggest single, “What Was That,” precedes “Shapeshifter” and also captures that leap-through-time vibe. It paints her relationship with her ex-boyfriend and her fans as a blur of fast-moving scenes: “Since I was 17 gave you everything.” The commanding, ghostly, almost-woodwind synths on the chorus and the spare but intense percussion give the track a quiet power that feeds into the “what would an X-ray sound like” nature of the sound palette at large. I think this should be a huge Billboard hit, personally — it’s a power-pop anthem.

“Man of the Year” rings similar to FKA twigs’ “Cellophane,” with a slow-building, drumless verse leading into a climactic chorus, where Lorde is singing her ass off. Lyrically, it’s an embrace of herself cutting the umbilical cord between her and “god” — whether that be a parent, a lover, the audience, or literally God. She’s “The Man.” “Favourite Daughter,” however, is more of a bittersweet embrace of having maternity — and someone to perform for — “running to” them all her life. The push-pull of “I’m my own person” and “I worship this other entity” is kind of the core of what makes the drama of the record work so well.

She said she’s been reading a lot of books, and if the first half of the record is a memoir, the second half veers more into the abstract poetry of Jenny Hval. “Current Affairs” has a title whose meaning doesn’t feel immediately apparent, discussing the idea of intimate moments and public displays of affection being like darkness and light. She draws on interesting sources of imagery — like the Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee sex tape — to describe how happy they were, and how traumatic the leaking of it was for Pamela specifically. It’s slow-burning, gorgeous, and intercut with these Chanel Beads or Mk.gee-inspired hits of guitar that give it additional impact. It feels like a clear nod to those artists without ripping them off.

“Clearblue” reminds me of Bon Iver or Frank Ocean, utilizing autotune to really express these feelings of romance and clarity. I thought “GRWM” would be cringe because of the TikTok-inspired title, but it’s actually short for “Grown Woman,” not “Get Ready With Me.” It’s another skeletal synth-led gem with industrial drum hits — lyrically triumphant and nostalgic in its quest toward womanhood, starting in ‘96.

“Broken Glass” is my favorite deep cut, and “If She Could See Me Now” is the worst track here — and comparing them really highlights the pros and cons of the record. The former is pumped with classic Lorde sonics, building on the hip-hop drum work of Pure Heroine and the synth-pop of Melodrama to soundtrack a classic Lorde tale about self-destruction and not accepting oneself. She can’t stop looking in the mirror — so she breaks it with her fist. She’s racking up all her worst tendencies, including crying herself to sleep and cheating, to give us a fuller range of emotions than just “I accept myself and love myself for who I am.” The self-doubt will always be there, her perspective is ever mercurial.

Conversely, “If She Could See Me Now” plays more like a millennial girlboss Taylor Swift anthem, with lyrics like “In the city, I hear the ancients” and “In the gym, I’m exercising all my demons.” It’s backed by the most repetitive and uninspired beat of the bunch, emphasizing these one-or-two-note guitar hits that only really burst into anything interesting in the last 30 seconds. It’s probably the only song here I don’t love — in fact, I don’t like it at all.

“David” thankfully saves the record, summing up all the themes at play and fully emphasizing her freedom — “I don’t belong to anyone.” Her singing on this song is probably the most impressive and passionate on the entire record, and that’s saying a lot because she kills it track-for-track vocally.

Virgin, to me, is everything we celebrate on the page when it comes to mainstream pop music that doesn’t suck. It dares to do its own thing in a sea of repetitive, derivative AI slop. Yet it doesn’t sacrifice catchiness in the process. In fact, what makes it so unique is what keeps me coming back to the music over and over again — knowing every lyric and melody. To me, it’s her most personal and complete statement, despite catching lightning in a bottle early on with the (superior) Melodrama. If certain fans and critics aren’t into it, that’s fine — I think it’s probably the best album of heard all year. The only competition is really has is…

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artist: oklou

album: choke enough

grade: A-

In a musical landscape where so many modern artists are leaning into that 160BPM maximalist “lyrics be damned, fuck everyone else” attitude (I’m looking at you 2hollis), it’s nice to find an album whose superpower is subtlety. In the same way, Oklou’s songs—like "god’s chariot"—have always stood out among the half-joking hyperpop crowd as being sonically textured and almost holy. Oklou’s much-anticipated sophomore record choke enough is an absolute triumph in this regard, outdoing most of its contemporaries by daring to choose serenity and patience over quick, head-banging instant gratification. She creates her own lane—fuck it, her own world—in pop music with a simple sound palette: filtered drums, looped synth arpeggiations, MIDI horns and flutes, acoustic guitars, and clipped samples. That, along with the cover, music videos, and NTS ice skating performance, aesthetically pieces together this cold, clear vibe that never breaks for a moment.

The opener, "endless", sets the tone of life on a loop: “is the endless still unbound?” — it’s almost like she’s opening up several portals for us to jump into and explore. On "ict", she recounts chasing the sweet sounds of an ice cream truck over this sugary, energetic, wooden block–backed beat, or "want to wanna come back", where she’s asleep but walking around her old neighborhood, or "family and friends", where we get this beautiful imagery of her holding a baby and then ending up in a womb herself. We get her falling asleep to tornados raging outside on "thank you for recording", and taking a picture of her own car crash on "choke enough". It’s like this foggy digital journal of memories, where she’s trying to log and make sense of all these disparate, chaotic events and frequencies. I’ve never heard a record quite like what I’m describing. "obvious" gives words to the unseen forces the record is hinting at: “flowers grow quietly, forces in everything”—nothing exists without nothing. Everything about choke enough follows that thesis. What is a “banger” only becomes apparent when the tension or nothingness is lifted, as on the excellent "take me by the hand" with Bladee or "harvest sky" with Underscores. When she wants to make a club bop, she can, but we have to earn it by listening patiently and carefully.

It’s almost like there’s a filter knob on the entire record that’s slowly being turned, and as we get toward the end, the picture becomes more clear. "blade bird" really opens the fog up with this ‘90s adult-contemporary drum and acoustic guitar combo. It’s a heartbreaking tale of coming to terms with losing a lover to their autonomy—feeling like a cage to a bird with blades for wings. It’s dangerous, devastating, and depressing, but instrumentally uplifting at the same time. This record is a real journey, and it couldn’t have ended better.

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artist: smerz

album: big city life

grade: B+

Smerz’s Big city life is a bawdy and baroque addition to the electronic art pop canon, in step with Lorde’s sophisticated new pop philosophy. It reflects on life as a single girl in a city full of infinite opportunities and just as many paralyzing anxieties. The lyrics and vocals are confident but also hypnagogic and unsettled in a nocturnally jazzy way, contrasting feminine beauty with the chaotic grittiness of cityscapes. “Roll the dice” is danceable with staccato pianos and crisp hi-hats, but the lyrics mix casual urban wandering with fear of harassment or danger—limitless opportunity implies risk, especially for women. The album also touches on maturity and growing pains, pulling from trip-hop, industrial, and disco, sometimes all within one track, to reflect different emotional textures.

“But I do” uses hollow cask drums and harsh, feedback-heavy guitars that make lines like “Are you a girl or a lady?” land harder. Some tracks are aloof and unsettling, like “What,” a 26-second off-beat piano interlude that never quite materializes. “Feisty” follows with baroque strings and a more put-together sound, but the lyrics are a hot mess in the best way, referencing late-night, dizzying flings. Its sleaziest and grooviest parts are the most ear-catching, but the romantic, sweeping cuts are what keep it grounded. “You got time and I got money” feels like slow dancing with the emotionally distant girl you’re crushing on. Lines like “Baby, can I see you naked? (please) / Even though I love how you dress” capture the mix of closeness and budding romance in these types of casual relationships, it gives me butterflies in my stomach and I’m not even involved. “Easy” closes the record in slow motion, a blend of L’Rain and Portishead that’s laid back, romantically obsessed, and anxious—“have I said too much?” It’s instrumentally, lyrically, and emotionally versatile, and rare in how it stays cohesive without losing variation.

The only thing holding it back from an A- in my estimation is that it could use a few more exciting vocal performances and a few less, I don’t even know what to call it, “tote bag NPR approved tropes”? It’s really great though don’t my hang ups mislead you into thinking this album is pretentious or something, it’s super accessible and has a real confidence and cool about it that I can’t get enough of.