Lorde and Savior

Let’s hear it for the (wo)man of the year

Shelby Zheng

The buzz right now is Halloweekend plans and costumes, but I was far more focused on concert weekend—three nights full of incredible performances at different venues, from the notorious Armory to our hole-in-the-wall Varsity Theater in Dinkytown. Four artists, three venues, two available nights, yet my heart was set on one: Lorde. 

I’m a firm believer of “money comes back, time doesn’t,” which is why I will always purchase concert tickets to my favorite artists. However, for this concert weekend, I was in a dilemma as I couldn’t attend every show and knew I’d have to sacrifice someone. I wasn’t sure who it would be, but I knew it would not be Lorde. And I am so glad I set that non-negotiable. 

When the stage lit up in the colors of the Palestinian flag during the final chorus of “Team,” the crowd erupted in a supportive roar, and my heart swelled in my chest knowing that Lorde was using her platform for the right reasons. She made her way off the stage into the crowd for “David,” wearing a reflective jacket with a flashlight illuminating her face as she sang. Knowing this was the second-to-last song, tears began to well in my eyes. The show was coming to an end. 

She introduced one of her oldest songs, “Ribs,” the epitome of how it feels to reckon with time. I watched the crowd sway in unison, heartbreak and happiness etched across their faces at this beautiful climax of the concert. I closed my eyes, transported into long drives in my hometown, “Ribs” blasting through my speakers. Those memories melted into one as I turned my gaze to the bright lights, nostalgia intertwined with gratitude. I didn’t care what time it was. I didn’t care how I was getting home. I simply reveled in the experience that was Lorde.