If Lorde’s “What Was That” music video feels like dĂ©jĂ vu wrapped in a Gen Z daydream, it’s because the 28-year-old alt-pop singer knows exactly how to soundtrack our late-night spirals and casual walks to Trader Joe’s. Lorde is so back, and she’s never felt more like one of us — a city girl with big feelings, a half-full oat latte, and an existential playlist queued up for the walk home.Â
The city doesn’t care if you’re spiraling, but Lorde does. In her new music video, Lorde literally bikes and strolls through “a place in the city,” blurring the line between the mundane and the meaningful. The three-minute music video captures her wandering through an unnamed urban sprawl, equal parts dreamy and disoriented, as if she’s chasing a memory or maybe just trying to feel something between crosswalks.
After a four-year hiatus, Lorde’s return isn’t loud. It’s reflective, a soft re-entry into a world that’s changed as much as she has. The song’s hazy, introspective vibe has all the markings of a “Melodrama” sequel with the emotional maturity of someone who’s done the shadow work and found the best coffee shop in town.
With her fourth album dropping this summer and Coachella whispers stirring up a full-blown “Lorde Summer,” her new era is speaking directly to the college crowd: emotionally fluent, effortlessly stylish, and just a little bit lost. “What Was That” feels like the beginning of something — and if the surprise Washington Square Park performance is any indication, she’s done hiding in plain sight.Â
Walking through NYC in her black AirPods Max, Lorde appears alone in the streets, lost in thought, singing, “Step out into the street, alone in a sea / It comes over me.” The footage feels like it was shot on an old iPhone or camcorder, both raw and nostalgic. Flashes of memory flicker across the screen, hinting at a past relationship. “Oh, I’m missing you / Yeah, I’m missing you / And all the things we used to do.” It’s a perfectly overcast day: the sidewalks are damp, and the air feels heavy. That familiar, melancholy vibe creeps in — the kind that makes you overthink everything on a cloudy afternoon. As she power walks across a bridge, Lorde seems to shake off the sadness. She’s reminding herself she’s strong, even if she’s still aching. “We kissed for hours straight, well, baby, what was that?”
Then she hops on a jewel-toned teal Klein bike and rides, screaming the lyrics. She’s spiraling, but she’s also riding it out. It’s that “let them” mindset: if something slipped away, maybe it was never meant to stay. As the realization and acceptance hits, Lorde starts smiling.Â
Adding to the chaotic fun, the camera literally drops after the chorus, then picks back up as she does, seamlessly returning to her walk through the city. She bumps into people on the street — her once-isolated world now buzzing with life. As she sings about her friends, strangers blur into memories. “Do you know you’re still with me/ When I’m out with my friends? / I stare at the painted faces that talk current affairs.” She’s moving forward, but fragments of the past still cling to the present.
She walks through a tunnel, exploring all the different paths she could take. “When I’m in the blue light, down to be myself right, I face reality.” Climbing out of a manhole, Lorde returns to the city changed, but not erased.Â
The video ends in Washington Square Park, where she performed a surprise pop-up. She’s dancing freely now, filming the crowd, lost in the music. Everyone’s watching, but she’s not performing for them. She’s there for her. No matter the heartbreak, the doubts, or the detours, the city brings her back.