Review Summary: Secrets gently whispered for $19.99
According to the Mayans, this is technically only Year 5, so it makes sense that a lot of morons consider this a time of personal reinvention. And I gather that no one understands the concept of New Life better than pornographic actors, given how they routinely get splashed with New Life on their various body parts. And since it’s getting harder and harder to tell porno actors and pop stars apart nowadays, a dysentery-like outflow of New Life pop albums have surfaced in the year 2017, like so many wet skid-marks on an old lady’s pantaloons. So onto Lorde……..
A fireworks-like display of virtually interchangeable melodies and vocal patterns, Melodrama is a shining beacon of proof of what a promising young woman can truly achieve in this world with nothing but a large team of producers, a pile of software, state of the art recording studios, and a mid-range voice.
Lorde pulls no punches as far as the emotional goes. The way she intones “melodrama” with the doe-eyed sincerity of someone who’s clearly just learned the word recently and thought it was pretty nifty. The way she lethargically mumbles about being a little too much for everyone. I mean I’ve been called a liability too. Usually by a corporate lawyer pleading with me to stop dangling my cock in front of a board room on ‘Bring Your Children to Work Day.’ It hurts your feeling. It makes you want to run home and write some tunes. But it’s important not to overstretch yourself in life. Don’t be one of those guys who gets diagnosed with cancer and immediately thinks he should be running marathons. Pricks.
Now some people may say that this album is ethereal. And it’s true. It is. As gossamer as the stomach lining of a bulimic leper, and as dainty as a communion wafer cracking in the pocket of a thrusting priest, Melodrama is a delightfully airy affair. So I do recommend listening to this with the windows closed, because a slight breeze might make this thing collapse like an overwhelmed single mother at Price Club. It’d also be kinder to the neighbors.
Now look, I’m not a bad man/woman. Those of you who know me know that I’m a firefighter… in a Village People tribute band (not to be confused with the Greenwich Village People tribute band, which are four Jewish guys kvetching about fish fillets). So I know fear, sacrifice and loss. I know melodrama. And I get where Lorde is coming from. So maybe do what I do when life hands you Beyonce’s Lemons. Sit at home, on the couch, quietly, and nod off to some Pure Heroin.
