MIXED EMOTIONS

At her London show, Lorde lurches amiably between past and present personae, offering contrasting highlights to charm an equally blended fanbase.

- Adam White

If you become a preternaturally wise pop phenomenon at the age of 16, an angsty club-hopper at 20 and a New Agey melancholic at 24, then live out your messy, Brooklynwarehouse-party Hannah Horvath fantasy at 29, your personal timeline will inevitably be a little disjointed. The work, life and sonic trajectory of the New Zealand singer-songwriter Lorde has been a jumble, zig-zagging between self-reflective, seen-it-all gloom and a primal, perma-adolescent urge to freak out and dance. It means, too, that her fandom is all over the place, separated into factions claiming rich, soul-deep connections to particular Lorde eras while remaining entirely detached from others. Tonight, at London's O2 Arena, teens and middle-aged gay men scream and bop and heckle to the cosmic euphoria of