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Tag: Ellie Goulding Let It Die

  • Love Is Like A Drug-Addled Rollercoaster on Ellie Goulding’s Higher Than Heaven

    Love Is Like A Drug-Addled Rollercoaster on Ellie Goulding’s Higher Than Heaven

    Like so many musicians forced into seclusion during the pandemic, Ellie Goulding was “inspired” (for lack of a better word) by COVID-19. Or, to put it more delicately, Higher Than Heaven is “a response” to Miss Rona. And a defiant one. For, also like many other musicians, Goulding decided the world needed something “uplifting” after going through that collective trauma. One that most have conveniently tried to block out of their minds (though that could also unwittingly be in preparation for the next invariable pandemic).

    The arrival of her fifth record was announced at the end of 2022, with multiple pushbacks from its originally intended release date (February 3rd) until finally coming out on April 7th. The exuberant album proved itself to be worth the wait. And, although Goulding cited Higher Than Heaven as being her least personal music to date, she still felt obliged to add, “[The record is] about being passionately in love. But it’s a hyper form of love, almost like a drug-induced feeling. It feels almost artificial and there’s the potential for a crash.” How very Charli XCX. Or Taylor, for that matter. To that end, Goulding kicks off the auditory odyssey with “Midnight Dreams,” a mid-tempo dance track that finds Goulding jubilantly admitting, “[You’re] all I think about/You’re my energy/Feel you all around/Electricity/Take me, let’s fly away/Midnight dreams/Every time you’re next to me.” Whatever is actually meant by “midnight dreams” as a phrase is ultimately left to the listener’s discretion, but maybe, like Swift, Goulding senses something magic in the potential of midnight—that strange and brief in-between point betwixt day and night…before a directional shift in tone is made permanent.

    Having fallen down the rabbit hole of love on “Midnight Dreams,” it’s only natural that Goulding would wish for a “Cure for Love” on the second track. And yes, it’s here that we can definitely see the pandemic’s influence on the record as she engages in the language of sicknesses and antidotes to declare her strength and independence (not unlike Bebe Rexha on “Call On Me” from Bebe, albeit without the illness metaphor). As though she just got off a fresh bout with corona, Goulding sings, “I can’t fight the fever in my veins/The weakness in me always calls your name/Quiet, but my heart beats like a drum/Here’s to bein’ lonely.” Loneliness being another sentiment that was felt pervasively throughout the pandemic, but then eventually embraced, for better or worse—lest one succumb to total madness. Because, among other stark realizations forced by the lockdown measures of COVID, the most pronounced was the idea that people need to learn to be okay being on their own, even when society assures, “We’re in this together.” So it is that Goulding relishes her own self-sufficiency as she says with upbeat fervor, “I don’t need a cure for love, I’m movin’ on/Given too much, didn’t get enough/Sick, but not broken-hearted tonight/I don’t need a cure for love, yeah, I’m the one/Given too much, didn’t get enough/Sick, but I’m gettin’ started tonight.”

    She’s also just getting started on the record’s danceable rhythms as she segues into “By the End of the Night,” a song dripping with nostalgia as a result of its 80s-esque tincture. Produced by Stephen “Koz” Kozmeniuk, something about it echoes the vibe and feeling of Don Henley’s “The Boys of Summer,” except not quite so colored in bittersweetness. Goulding also speaks to that aforementioned “hyper form of love, almost like a drug-induced feeling” as she croons on the chorus, “By the end of the night, I wanna feel like the sky is drippin’ on every part of me/And by the end of the night, I wanna look at the lights [Goulding loves lights, as we know]/Chasin’ the shape of you next to me/And by the end of the night I wanna be the only onе in the world [so does Rihanna]/When I look in your eyеs I see you’re mine.” The drug-addled sensation of this initial phase of falling in love is further played on by Goulding when she adds, “Is it love?/Call it chemical/The way you touch, so unforgettable/Feel the rush, I don’t wanna sleep/With fever dreams when I’m with you.” There’s that word again: “fever.” Surely on the brain constantly while starting to work on this album amid corona restrictions.

    Perhaps this, in addition to seeking a “savior” (or “saviour,” as the British like to say), couldn’t help but be dominant forces amid the conditions of the pandemic. As such, “Like A Saviour” (such a Madonna-esque title) serves as the fourth song on Higher Than Heaven. The Joe Connor-directed video opens on a scene of seemingly nude bodies (but no, ‘tis nothing more than the illusion of flesh-colored bodysuits) as they proceed to writhe in rhythmic unison, as though collectively being born. Set against the backdrop of an abyssal desert, Goulding’s lyrics, “You’re leadin’ me out of the dark/Like a saviour/Shinin’ in my soul, oh-woah, oh-woah,” feel like yet another sign of the times as people search for anything or anyone they can turn to for “salvation.” Tinged once more with 80s-inspired beats, the co-production from Koz and Andrew Wells perfectly complements Goulding’s earnest vocals as she gratefully announces to her savior, “Suddenly, I feel I can let go/Of all the insecurities weighin’ me down/Now I’m ready to drown in you.” Throughout the video, alternating scenes of day versus night accent the notion of being led out of the dark, with the final frame revealing a sky that appears caught between day and night, perhaps another loose allusion to that “in-between time” of “Midnight Dreams.”

    Whether or not darkness comes her way in a relationship, Goulding insists that “Love Goes On.” A song that once more uses color as an analogy that only a drug enthusiast (or a synesthete) can fully appreciate. Commencing ambiently before the beat picks up, Goulding reveals, “Seein’ colors all around me/I don’t recognize the palette/Suddenly, I feel a change in me.” Although she might have stated this isn’t a “personal” album, the lyrics here seem decidedly geared toward her husband, Caspar Jopling. A man who, luckily, Goulding was already married to just before the lockdown happened so that she could enjoy the benefits of “quarantine partner.” Perhaps it was during this period in particular that she realized, “My love goes on and on/And on and on and on.” Devotion, loyalty, tout ça.

    So naturally, these sentiments transition easily into a single like “Easy Lover” featuring Big Sean. The track that started it all, in terms of inaugurating Goulding’s Higher Than Heaven era. Except that “Easy Lover” is more about the “bad” kind of devotion to a lover. One who will never really reciprocate emotions the way you need them to…yet you still keep going back to them regardless. This, of course, is what’s colloquially known as a “fuckboy.” Released back in July of ’22, Goulding commented of the song, “I wrote ‘Easy Lover’ about five years ago in Los Angeles. I was with Greg Kurstin, one of my favorite producers of all time, and Julia Michaels, who’s an amazing songwriter. I think one of us was dealing with a known fuckboy at the time, but we ended up with a song about going back to the same person who’s hurt you and you think you can change them. We always say we can change someone, and we can’t.”

    Ergo Goulding’s lament, “It was never easy, lover/When you’ve given all you’ve got to each other/And then every time, it’s harder to recover.” Nonetheless, something within the human condition (read: frailty) keeps people repeating the same patterns in the naïve hope that it might be different another time around. The accompanying video for the single finds Goulding in a glass encasement, “on display,” as it were. Another one of her characters is a teacher turning to the drink for comfort during school hours—that school being in Bulgaria, where the video was shot by Sophia Ray. As for the premise, it involves the Goulding-portrayed characters attempting to take down a creature in some parallel universe…the undeniable representation of the creature that is: the fuckboy.

    The album’s title track, “Higher Than Heaven” (which Florence + the Machine gets close to with High As Hope), is perhaps the most emblematic of the record’s theme, with Goulding herself remarking, “No other title could’ve been better to use for the album to describe what’s going on here—which is just high-as-a-kite feelings of love and infatuation and you’re not coming back down anytime soon. I really like this song because it’s bloody high to sing but it just feels so sensual and so passionate.” That much comes across in the vocally layered repetition of “high” toward the end of the song, as well as Goulding’s pronouncement, “You take me higher than heaven above/Heaven above/You take me higher, blinded by your sun/Blinded by your sun/Oh, it hurts so amazing/My body, ablaze from this heat we’re creatin’ tonight.” The fact that Goulding constantly mentions night on this album, however, presumes that, perhaps in the light of day, feelings might not seem as intense as before.

    What’s more, as most know, the higher the feeling, the worse the comedown. Which is why the placement of “Let It Die” after “Higher Than Heaven” is so brilliant. Dissecting that point in a relationship when it’s become tantamount to beating a dead horse in the hope that it will miraculously start working again, Goulding gives the sound advice, “If you lose yourself, you can walk away.” She also adds to that logic, “…when there’s no more tears to cry/And you’re holdin’ onto love for life/I think it’s timе to let it die.” Production-wise, the backing music stands apart from other songs on the record as a result of the frenetic, frantic pace Lostboy gives to it. One that abruptly comes to a close as Goulding urges one final time, “I think it’s time to let it die.”

    From here Goulding shifts gears, going back to favoring the more “lavender haze” portion of a relationship. Or rather, the sex haze portion. As she talks about having waited for it and then finally getting it, we can deduce she’s referring to both “love” and “hot, hot sex.” The hotel-oriented motif of the latter is manifested in lyrics such as, “Bottles and mirrors/Don’t know where we both end/And were we begin/Original sin/Only linen and liquor.” The latter two making it easy to feel “drunk on love.” But again, one can’t help but ask how much of this love and its intensity is spurred by being closed off from reality, with Goulding referring to a dream state once more as she sings, “I want it again/In a sepia dream/In and out of your focus/Keep your vintage champagne/I’m only drunk on you.” Until, of course, the hangover arrives.

    The 80s influence reemerges anew on “Just For You,” courtesy of Greg Kurstin producing. On this particular number, Goulding returns to the sweeter side of love, announcing, “Yeah, I’ve got a heartbeat just for you/Just for you, just for you/I’ve got a real thing just for you.” In contrast to other tracks on Higher Than Heaven, this one alludes to Goulding’s inability to move on from an old lover, suddenly understanding that, “It took somebody else to really, really know.” Or, as Goulding summed it up, “It took somebody else to make me realize how much my heart only beats for you.” Goulding conceded that, while it might come across as somewhat self-indulgent, to be fair, she was inspired by Drake’s stylings for it.

    The closing track on the standard edition of the record, “How Long,” continues the themes of both “Easy Lover” and “Just For You.” At least in the sense that Goulding expresses yearning and hopefulness for returning to a relationship that the other person doesn’t necessarily seem quite as interested in revisiting. Or, if he is, he’s far more “take it or leave it” about the affair than Goulding. Of course, like so many women addicted to toxic men, Goulding insists that his actions surely can’t mirror his “true feelings” as she sings, “You’re makin’ it look easy/In the morning when you leave me/But we both know you rеally need me/Making excuses just to see mе.” To this point, Goulding admitted of the lyrical composition, “I’m singing about somebody who I think is probably missing me. Quite presumptuous.” Elsewhere, she speaks to the on-again, off-again nature of toxic relationships (so often a symptom of young love), describing, “To last time, to the next time/We can’t let it go/Feels right, but it ain’t right/We just can’t say no/Last time’s like the first time/We can’t let it go tonight.” Giving in to the “Temptation”—this, incidentally, being the track that commences the deluxe version of Higher Than Heaven.

    Suffused in 80s electro beats (meets a dash of power ballad), Goulding wields the analogies of drugs and dreams all over again to describe the high she’s on from love. So it is that she paints the picture, “LSD and lemonade/Your sweetness makes my body ache/You’re in the car, I’m drivin’, someone cut the brakes/Got that California dreamin’/Never wanted someone like I want you, babe/And I don’t know if I can take this.” But of course she will. She wants that love high no matter what the price to pay might be later.

    In full-tilt 80s mode and not apologizing anymore, “Intuition” continues the sonic landscape of “Temptation,” but with a more overt incorporation of Janet Jackson and The Weeknd influences. Her repetition of previous words and phrases from the album puts her firmly in the territory of Taylor Swift and Lana Del Rey, the songwriting experts on such techniques for “world-building.” Thus, Goulding keeps bringing dreams, fantasies (helped along by drugs when the opportunity arises) and the midnight hour into the equation with, “I’ve got an intuition/Flashin’ like a diamond in a dream/Livin’ in a full-time fantasy/I’m into you instinctively/I’ve got an intuition/I can see your outline in the dark/Lookin’ like a midnight work of art.” This last line, too, leaves room for listener interpretation. For a work of art being glimpsed at midnight presumes that one is probably trying to steal it…only to end up dealing with the likely fallout of such an act.

    The suggestively titled “Tastes Like You”—not as tailored to a Hannibal Lecter dining experience as you might think—explores the idea that, although you know you’re going to be happier in the long run without someone, the pain of losing them in the present is almost unbearable. Tame Impala also explored the concept on 2015’s “Eventually,” with Kevin Parker warbling, “If only there could be another way to do this/‘Cause it feels like murder to put your heart through this…/But I know that I’ll be happier/And I know you will too…/Eventually.”

    Goulding promises herself something similar via the lines, “‘Cause I’m over your touch/But I know it’s never enough/I let go, but I still got caught up/This drink will always be bittersweet/So I’m gonna raise one more glass to the times that we had/I know that we’re both happier, it’s true/But the heartache still tastes like you.” So yes, as overtly foreshadowed during the highs of Higher Than Heaven, the lows feel just as strong, if not worse by the end of the album (perhaps that’s why the cover features her sinking toward an ocean bottom, rather than being raised up into the sky).

    Maybe she’ll even find a “Better Man.” Except that, despite this song’s potentially misleading title, it’s actually about Goulding being the better man. And certainly better than any man who might try to underestimate her worth. It’s here that the fantasy and illusion she reveled in from earlier are shattered as she asserts, “Rose-tintеd glasses, but trust me, I’m seeing red.” Written in the wake of #MeToo, Goulding’s fresh anger and simultaneous sense of empowerment is made apparent as she accuses, “Took the confidence I had/You can watch me take it back/I’m the future and the past/That’s a perfect hourglass/Tried to make me lose my cool/Hold my karma in my hands/Every time I get a chance/Baby, I’m a better man.”

    Hence, from the codependency of the beginning of the record, we find ourselves at “All By Myself” by the finale. And, although it’s hard not to think of Celine Dion as a result of that title, it’s actually Depeche Mode’s “Enjoy the Silence” that Goulding samples. Quite a coup considering the band has never previously given permission to use one of their songs to anyone else. Proof that Goulding has earned every right to say, “I’m doin’ it, doin’ it all by myself/I’m movin’ it, movin’ it all by myself/I’ll be my own motivation/I’ll listen to nothin’ they’re sayin’/I’m lovin’ me, lovin’ me all by myself.” Which is, as the old trope goes, the first step in being loved by someone else, with self-love and romantic love being yin and yang concepts examined throughout Higher Than Heaven.

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • When a Relationship is Flatlining, Ellie Goulding Recommends: “Let It Die”

    When a Relationship is Flatlining, Ellie Goulding Recommends: “Let It Die”

    Veering away from her more “DIY aesthetic” that took hold of most music videos circa 2020, Ellie Goulding is back with a new single to support the release of her upcoming fifth album, Higher Than Heaven (not to be conflated with Florence + the Machine’s High As Hope). Fitting in with the afterlife motif of such a title, her song is called, “Let It Die.” A far cry from the Paul McCartney philosophy of “Live and Let Die.” For, in Goulding’s estimation, it isn’t about moving on, per se, and letting the other person “do them,” so much as it is about her realizing she has to kill off a relationship in order to survive. Ergo, the opening verse, “Toxicity slippin’ to my bloodstream/I give too much, you suck the life out of me.”

    In many regards, it echoes the theme conveyed by a fellow Briton (Welsh, to be more precise) MARINA, on 2019’s “No More Suckers.” With a double meaning that refers to being a sucker for getting bamboozled by other people’s faux “love” and the “suckage” that occurs from proverbial leeches, MARINA declares, “I was too open, I was too quick/To let other people in, took whatever they could get/Now I see a pattern, I’m getting rid of it/Yeah, I know I need a change ’cause I’m tired of feeling drained.” She then chirps happily in the chorus, “No more suckers in my life/All the drama gets them high/I’m just trying to draw the line/No more suckers in my life/They just keep bleeding me dry/Till there’s nothing left inside.”

    It’s evident that Goulding feels the same way about one person in particular (though hopefully not her own husband, Caspar Jopling) as she traipses into the White Cube Gallery—the view showing us a perspective of her marching feet as though she’s the one holding the camera from above (which, surely, she must be). But ultimately, it’s director Carlota Guerrero calling the filmic shots as we then see two rows of dancers lined up on each side of the hallway in poses of either mounter or mountee. Goulding, the lone wolf among the pack, seems to be the only one with the knowledge that coupledom is bullshit as she turns the camera back to her face in selfie mode to sing, “I fill my cup to drink you into someone else/And I blame myself.” As Sky Ferreira once did on a song called the same.

    Guerrero then cuts to Goulding at the center of four other bikini-clad dancers (in bikini tops meant to look like tits on certain portions of it) in front of a painting that appears as though it’s dripping gold (Goulding, gold—not a coincidence). Talk of the suburbs (like Olivia Rodrigo did on “drivers license”) as metaphor then arrives in the lyrics, “And I had a dream that we were a beautiful endeavor/Sunset driving through the suburbs/But we go no further.” The inevitable dance breakdown occurs when the musical one does with Goulding asking in earnest, “When did you lose the light behind your eyes?/Tell me why when there’s no more tears to cry [something Ariana knows all about]/And you’re holdin’ on to love for life/I think it’s timе to let it die.”

    It’s a powerful philosophy that many still have trouble adhering to in this world of the monogamy-capitalism industrial complex. For a large majority finds it far easier to stay with someone while feeling a lingering sense of perpetual dissatisfaction (a topic Adele addresses on most of 30) than actually risk leaving and seeing what fate awaits them “out there.”

    A cut to Goulding back in clothes and in front of a new painting finds her surrounded by dancers laid out on the floor before each couple permutation engages in a choreographed tussle, some in “freeze frame” position. In the midst of it all, Goulding urges, “If you lose yourself, let it die.” A mantra that few people in relationships are willing to adhere to as a result of the continued societal shunning of those who would willfully engage in something like sologamy over being “only” “semi”-miserable in a couple.

    In the next scenes, Kazaky-type dancers (in terms of men wearing tights with heels), proceed to go wild with their moves as Goulding remains the calm eye in the center of the storm. It’s almost like an allegory for the person who has become immune to their partner’s verbal abuse, tuning it out and floating up somewhere else until it’s over. She continues to stand among the fray of violently moving dancers as the video comes to a close, some aspects reminding one of Madonna doing the same amid a crowd of pawing “fans” in the “Drowned World/Substitute for Love” video (which Olivia Rodrigo vaguely recreated for portions of Sour Prom).

    For those who are already “strong enough” to have admitted that it was better to be alone than unhappy (as Whitney noted on “It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay”), perhaps it’s more useful to interpret “Let It Die” as an indirect anthem speaking from the point of view of Mother Earth herself with regard to her give-give-give dynamic with humans (as MARINA, once again, also did on “Purge the Poison”). Indeed, relationship status won’t much matter anyway when we’re all fighting for basic survival and things like “sexy time” feel more superfluous than usual.

    Genna Rivieccio

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