Released on June 27, 2025, Lorde’s fourth studio album didn’t hit my ears until the very beginning of September, while on an overnight bus from Florence to Prague.

In the 1960s, Michel Foucault, the French philosopher and sociologist, established a new definition of discourse. Rather than a pure and objective vehicle of communication, Foucault theorized that the words we use in writing and in speech are both the products and proponents of cultural, political, and social power. Thus, the Foucaultian concept of discourse was born. Through the very use (and disuse) of certain words and topics, power dynamics and social norms and much more take shape.
Sex plays at the border of use and disuse and is consequently an instinctive victim of our discourse. What is sexual is secret, therefore what is secret is sexual. ‘Virgin’ is a fascinating cloud of meaning within this dynamic. What thoughts, ideas, and perceptions does the word ‘virgin’ provoke in your mind? We’re not talking about ‘virginity’ (the concept) nor are we talking about ‘a virgin’ or even ‘the virgin.’ With ‘virginity,’ we draw our attention away from the philosophical and theoretical, and with the latter two renditions, we abandon a certain level of singularity and individuality. Here is where we get a sense of a dualism within the word. To be honest, I’m still hazy about it, and I think that is what makes this particular title so intriguing.
Furthermore, ‘virgin’ denotes an individual who has not had sexual intercourse, it can also be used to describe a person who is inexperienced in a particular activity. ‘Virgin’ is evidently defined in negative terms. By defining something by the thing that it is not, you bring attention to the very thing that it is not. ‘Virgin’ denotes sexlessness, but obviously, when we hear/read/speak the word, the opposite must come to mind. ‘Virgin’ is a strange little mirror that we think is clear glass. ‘Virgin’ is two when we think it is one. If there is one concept that I believe runs through the veins of this album, it is this confusing and contradictory balance between oneness and multiplicity.

A woman is one and many things at the same time. A woman is a daughter, a girl, a sister, and a lover. She is virgin, which means she is untouched. She is a virgin, which means she is waiting to be touched. She is something to be protected, then something to be violated. She comes from someone then someone comes from her. In a nigh impossible feat, Lorde chaotically drags it all together, dirt jammed beneath her nails, and tells it like it is. “Shapeshifter” is a culmination of this feat.
When you get close enough
I’ll let down my braids and you’ll climb up
in my room, we can do anything you want.
The woman knows she’s alluring, what her invitation means. She’s a beautiful Rapunzel, a songbird hanging in the air. A tenuous balance appears:
If I’m fine without it, why can’t I stop?
It’s unsettling. Do you know what you desire? Why do you desire what you desire? And if you don’t desire something, why do you keep going after it?
I’ve been the ice, I’ve been the flame
I’ve been the prize, the ball, the chain
…
I’ve been the siren, been the saint
It’s not a lack of ability or power. Remember, she’s alluring, and so is her invitation. We finally know why—she can shapeshift into anything, she can become the innocent teenage girl, she can become everything you want, anything that makes you climb up into her tower. But is it power if it serves to turn you into something that others want, rather than something that you want to be? Without desire, there is no direction. ‘I have no idea what I want, I have no idea where I’m going.’ The line “I’m not affected” repeats over and over, like a numbing. In the last full stanza, Lorde writes twice “I’ll kick you out and pull you in.” It’s an endless, stagnant cycle. No net movement.
One last piece:
But tonight I just wanna fall
This is a big ‘but,’ bigger than you think it is (haha). Here, finally, is our direction. It’s not a direction that has happened yet, but it’s a start. Because she wants it. As aforementioned, the song depicts a stagnant cycle. Same air in, same air out. Action sparks no reaction because the action has no direction, no desire, and no substance. There’s only one solution here. Jump out of the tower and fall fall fall. What a line! Sometimes, there’s no other force than gravity that holds you down and makes you real. Certain circumstances make any other path impossible. So instead, the only thing you can do is let yourself fall and hope that, at some point, another force will stop you.
While “Shapeshifter” introduces us to the agonizing experience of being desired, “Current Affairs” gives us a raw perspective on the act of desiring and how our desire might consume us. I have more questions than answers for this song. The classic metaphor of ‘love’ as an all consuming, blinding fire. Is this really love? Can something be ‘love’ if it destroys someone so brutally? I can’t be completely sure of what Lorde is saying, but there’s something that’s exploding.
You’re in the light, then you’re in the dark
Then someone throws a flare
It’s a heaving of feeling: you’re in the light, then plunged into darkness, then a single bright red flame crosses your shocked face, illuminating the darkness and turning the air spontaneously electric. Then:
My bed is on fire
Mama I’m so scared
Were you ever like this?
Once you went out on the edge?
Fire evidently isn’t light, it’s something that’s alive. Is that what Lorde thinks of love and desire? Not mere illumination but actual consumption? Not just the viewing but the taking?
Balance isn’t there, or is it?
The lines “Mama I’m so scared/Were you ever like this?” cling to my mind. A daughter becomes someone then a daughter comes from her. A daughter fucks and engages in her own birth…
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