Lorde, the New Zealand-conceived pop star, came into the fire-lit parlor of her downtown Manhattan inn a couple of minutes past 11, apologizing for the delay of great importance — interesting story, she said. She'd been driving every day to a Greenwich Village recording studio, stopping without end at new music, however today U2, who had held the space, arrived and secured it. Lorde found a littler studio accessible more remote uptown, and however the move was badly arranged, she saw the funniness in being coincidentally ousted by Bono — it was only one more marker of how odd her life has been since she wound up plainly acclaimed, four years prior, at 16. "I really observed the Edge in the exercise center here," she said with a smile. "I contemplated saying something, however I chose, Nahhh/italianska."
A late-winter snowstorm was estimate to blow into town that night, and Lorde was dressed for the chilly in pointy dark boots and a voluminous Chloé jacket whose fleece folds stuck around her like a midnight-hued cloud. Her hair tumbled to the neckline in waves, and the general impact, in the light of the chimney, was of a to a great degree chic witch prepared for a night of frequenting. She'd sent me a message before on, indicating at some unspecified experience: "Will txt you when i escape the studio. i need to take you some place." Now, boots clicking, she drove me around the bend and into a lift, where she angled a thickset key from her pocket. "We're going out a mystery way," she stated, turning a bolt on the divider.
Lorde possesses a house in Auckland, where she grew up, yet for the majority of the most recent year she has been inhabiting distinctive lodgings around New York, attempting to complete her second collection, "Acting." She started composing it around three years back, first in her adolescence home and later at an estate she purchased on what she depicted as the other, fancier side of Auckland's Waitemata Harbor. Lorde has a neurological condition known as sound-to-shading synesthesia — when she hears certain notes and sounds, relating hues show up — and she depicts making music in seriously visual terms. "From the minute I begin something, I can see the completed melody, regardless of the possibility that it's far away and foggy," she said. She will probably adjust the hues and hone the shapes until the exact setup of harmonies, rhythms, feelings and surfaces she has been seeing from the beginning snaps into core interest. "It's about getting the genuine thing to sound like what I've been seeing."
The lift opened onto a desolate under floor, where Lorde brought a restricted staircase down to an administration exit. This lodging regularly facilitated big names, she clarified — "You may see Meryl Streep; you may even observe a Jonas Brother" — who, thus, drew picture takers. She'd gotten this key from administration so she could travel every which way without stressing over cameras.
The collection that made Lorde a superstar, "Immaculate Heroine," turned out in 2013. It was a wonder of modest representation of the truth — unhurried electronic beats, pared-down harmonies, exhaust spaces. Her verses brought an impossible radiance to avowedly commonplace depictions of rural teendom. "Immaculate Heroine" sold more than one million duplicates in five months, making Lorde the primary female craftsman with a million-offering debut collection since Adele and setting up her as a wunderkind pop auteur. Kanye West presented himself as a fan; Taylor Swift turned into a pal; David Bowie caught Lorde's hands in his and broadcasted that tuning in to her music "had a craving for tuning in to tomorrow." The question annoying her here in New York, as she attempted to meet the new collection's June discharge date, was what the day after tomorrow seemed like.