Lorde

Lorde tests freedom and hydration with surprise Glastonbury set—new album, old "Ribs"

Lorde commandeers Glastonbury’s Woodsies Stage for an unannounced appearance, performing her new album Virgin front to back. Opening with “Hammer” and closing with “Green Light,” she punctuates the show with a nod to “Ribs,” newly charting twelve years post-release.

Clutching her titanium water bottle, she describes the performance as potentially singular, stating she “didn’t know” if she'd ever release another record—before branding herself “completely free.” The slot had been long rumored, subtly teased via BBC and Instagram clues.

Lorde ditches stage fright after MDMA therapy, drops glitchy new track “Hammer”

Lorde credits MDMA therapy for helping dismantle a lifetime of stage fright rooted in her childhood theatre days. Speaking with Stephen Colbert, she explains how conventional talk therapy failed to reach what the body clung to until a psychedelic session rewired her emotional reflexes.

Following the treatment, she claims the fear lifted overnight. This arrives as she unveils “Hammer,” the glitchy opener to her upcoming album Virgin, steeped in themes of autonomy, transformation, and post-breakup clarity.

Lorde tiptoes through city grime and yearning in her moody late-20s malaise

Lorde’s “Hammer” hums with the wearied thrill of late-20s chaos, threading through grimy sidewalks and fleeting trysts with the precision of someone teetering on the edge of 30. She calls it “an ode to city life and horniness,” yet the track thuds like a quiet invocation of existential dread dressed in nocturnal glitter.

The song doesn’t flinch from the primal—aching limbs, urban humidity, and lust sharpened by loneliness. It sneaks in paradoxes where desire meets fatigue, and youth circles the drain of its own mythology.

Lorde revives decade-old B-side “No Better,” upending fan expectations on tour

Lorde dusts off “No Better” at the opening night of her Ultrasound World Tour, marking the track’s first live outing since her Pure Heroine era—a choice that jolts longtime listeners into a decade-old reverie. Delivered in front of a crowd not expecting a B-side resurrection, the performance bridges early-career abstractions with her current theatrical minimalism.

It's a moment less about nostalgia and more about calculated disruption, as the singer rewires fan expectations with a curveball setlist decision that's neither hit-chasing nor sentimentally safe.