Lorde Is Risen
waking from a dream and taking "What Was That" line-by-line
As we are hopefully all well aware by now, Lorde is back, and I, of course, refuse to be normal about it. Of course, I watched all the haphazard attempts at capturing the song at her pop-up, but my first listen of the studio recording of “What Was That” happened while I was at a HAIM show, waiting for the band to take the stage. The blue light was washing over me, the atmosphere was buzzing, the pre-show music was blasting, and the people were talking, but for three minutes and twenty-nine seconds, it was just me and Lorde as my earbuds and her synths drowned out all the noise. It was euphoric getting to finally listen to a new track from the artist I’ve had my longest fan relationship with in a moment that felt hand-crafted for it. I was grinning to myself amongst the crowded room as I attempted to process the fact that Lorde is back for real this time. Listening to the track alone in my room later that night was an entirely different experience. A lyrical extension of the raw vulnerability she exhibited on the “Girl, so confusing” remix was enough to make me crash out, so this is my attempt at breaking it all down one line at a time.
The song starts with Lorde literally setting the scene. “A place in the city, a chair and a bed.” It’s like she’s directing a play, but the play is her real life and she’s still coming to terms with that. The lyricism in just those opening lines is so simple that it circles around to being so complex. There’s no longer the obsessive romanticism of “Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor” or the gentle gratitude of “Moving the furniture when my back is turned.” Her lover is gone, and she’s regressed to “swaying alone, stroking her cheek.”
On “Girl, so confusing,” she opened up about starving herself thinner, and on her website, she succinctly describes, “Every meal a battle.” The first verse dives into that same struggle as she covers up the mirrors, wears smoke like a wedding veil, and makes meals she won’t eat. There’s a permeating sense of desperation in each word. Smoking and starving is her way of coping with heartbreak and processing the end of a relationship, but in reality, it only makes things worse. She’s seemingly been advised to take measures that will prevent her from even getting the chance to pick apart her body in the mirror because at this point, the very act of seeing herself is self-sabotage that will make her feel like shit and nothing more.
The work this first verse does to paint a picture makes the rest of the track all the more powerful. This heartbreak was so devastating she started looking at herself differently. She feels alone on the crowded streets of New York, unable to contain her emotion and insecurity even when out in public. The breakup follows her everywhere, and despite all of the anxiety and pain she’s been put through, she’s still trying to make sense of why. This search leads her to beg no one in particular to give her the answers that don’t exist.
The chorus is unbelievable on so many levels, but it all comes down to the scene-setting that Lorde has had mastered seemingly since she came out of the womb. Her lyricism is hyper-specific to the point of universality in a way that’s uniquely hers. She’s doing MDMA, but specifically in a back garden. Their pupils are blowing up and its from drugs or love or both because who knows and who cares “still the Louvre.” I’m especially taken aback by the concept played out in the lines “We kissed for hours straight, well baby, what was that? I remember saying then, ‘This is the best cigarette of my life.’ Well, I want you just like that.” They’re sharing spit with the lines continuing to blur between drugs and love. It’s inevitable that the withdrawal she describes as the sandstorm aftermath will leave her lost and confused, the fear of wondering “What will we do when we’re sober?” setting in once again and staying for good this time, however uninvited and terrifying that thought may be in her quest for clarity.
For the first twenty-four hours of having this song, I was mistakenly hearing, “I didn’t know then it should never be my fault” which I figured made sense intertwined with the concept of being with this person since she was seventeen. It turns out the lyrics are “I didn’t know then that you’d never be enough,” of course, followed by the already iconic “Since l was seventeen, I gave you everything. Now, we wake from a dream. Well, baby, what was that?” I kind of like what I misheard better, but that’s not the point. There’s a very concerning history of older men taking advantage of Lorde during her teen years. With “What Was That,” she’s now around the age those exes where when they started grooming her. It’s lyrically in the same vein as Taylor Swift’s “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve.” She’s asking her ex to explain how they could’ve done something like that while at the same time missing them like a little kid (as Phoebe Bridgers would say). If the things these women have shared are any indication, taking advantage of young girls in the entertainment industry is just another day for these evil, exploitative men, and Lorde wants them to answer for their crimes while at the same time still adjusting to a life without them because that’s all she’s ever known.
In the second verse, she’s back outside but still in her head. She wonders whether her ex is thinking of her which makes the words of those around her go in one ear and out the other. The heartbreaking is all-consuming. She still can’t figure out why this is happening, so she confronts her lover — “You had to know this was happening. You weren’t feeling my heat.” She tries to be logical, face reality, cleanse the crystals or whatever last-ditch effort she turns to, but nothing changes. The light is still red and she’s tired of waiting for the green, so she turns to the blue.
What was that?
'Cause I want you just like that
(When I'm in the blue light, I can make it alright)
What was that?
(When I'm in the blue light, I can make it alright)
Baby, what was that?
After everything, she still wants him. She doesn’t know what life looks like without him because her current reality is a single chair, an empty bed, and hidden mirrors. Blinded by the heartbreak, nonlinear and illogical, she’s convinced this is what life will always be like without him. And you can’t blame her. She’s been taken advantage of by this muse since she was at least seventeen. It’s completely reasonable for her to be this angry and this desperate to get things back to the way they were. She promises to put the responsibility on her to “make it alright,” even more fuel to the fire of how terrible she must have been treated in this relationship. If they can just get back to the drugs and the dance floor, she swears to make things work. On the other hand, she’s referring to the blue lights of the stage like that of Brooklyn’s Baby’s All Right venue when “I whisper things, the city sings them back to you.” Maybe if she turns her feelings into songs, that could be her vessel to getting the word out that she wants it all back.
That’s if he could only hear, but they’re up from a dream now. The city and its skyscrapers will always keep them apart. Maybe it’s better that way. The people on the New York streets will talk, so let ‘em talk. She’ll shut down Washington Square Park to prove it. She doesn’t need to keep waiting for a green light. It’s the blue light — the city, the fans, the music — that will ultimately get her through even the worst unanswered heartbreak.
This may be getting into “the curtains are blue” territory, but I love that the title is just “What Was That,” no question mark. I’m sure she’ll elaborate more on the rest of the album, but for now, this song is a statement. She’s telling us where she’s been without any sugar-coating involved, but most importantly, she’s telling us she’s back with a lead single here to say just that. The Lorde has risen. Much can be said about the choice of producers and the blunt lyricism, but in the recession indicator era of reheating nachos, “What Was That” effectively follows up the filling three-course meal of Pure Heroine, Melodrama, and Solar Power. It’s the dessert that ties the whole night together or the drunk cig that makes it all fall apart. Pick your poison. Regardless, it works for me, and I’m just so happy to have her back.