Lorde – Man of the Year Review

It is almost impossible to escape Lorde if you have any form of social media. From the misrepresentation of Man of the Year on TikTok posts to constant clips of the New Zealand-born artist dancing in car parks or hushing her paying customers so they can stop hogging the spotlight. Pure Heroine and Melodrama continue to do the heavy lifting when it comes to assessing the legacy Lorde leaves behind. A truly impressive artist who is struggling with the build for the new album, Virgin. Not in the case of popularity, that much was guaranteed. But the singles to come from it – the underwhelmed and context-free confusion of What Was That or the main character energy projection of Man of the Year – are failing to build much of an image for this fourth studio release. Man of the Year maintains an openness from Lorde, which is starting to dilute the nuance and depths of her writing.  

Man of the Year is a song for those obsessed with Lorde as a person, as a concept rather than a person. For those who find the most relatable thing is for her work and persona to be extracted, placed into some meme on Instagram. The truth is, Man of the Year is sincere, but this will be misinterpreted. No fault of the song, just the insufferable few who will allow their personalities to revolve around it, and it alone. Lorde writes with the same openness as her earlier works, though the sparse instrumental opening, the clangs of industrialised noise to come with a mention of the title, feels like an attempt to counter that emotionally raw power. There is a depth to Man of the Year, be it of rebirth or a comment on the fluidity of gender, which can certainly be projected onto the broader spots of this latest Lorde track. The death of ego does not mean the instrumentals need to die also.

But it does give Lorde a chance to focus on her voice as a tool rather than something needed to infer emotional quality. Few will deny Lorde has an incredible voice, Man of the Year showcases the obvious. There is a constant mourning found within this second Virgin single which, if anything, is the reason to keep returning to Man of the Year. An exceptionally written song which will be misrepresented as the freedom which comes following a break-up with a partner who offers nothing. But that is not the point of Man of the Year. A few red herring moments, the mouthwash jerk and the being broken open suggest this, but the tender, early moments of the song hear an artist making a break for reinvention of their own accord.  

Making the leap without the necessity of a life-changing event is as bold a move as can be. Lorde processes this, creates a stripped-back sound for her second Virgin single, and gambles on the vocal work, the writing, being strong enough to carry the song. It is, but only just. There is a volatility here which keeps the song alive, has it burn brightly as an anthem for being proud of taking a big risk. Make the change, that is what Lorde insists we do, and we would be right to listen. It will be easier for those who are overwhelmed by the simple production than those who feel it is flat, offering little for the exploration of personal growth heard so clearly in the lyrics of the two singles so far. Once more a frustrating release from Lorde, who is breaking from the typecast style of her music but offering something lesser in response.