Lorde has a thing for water. Whether it's the "ribs of a whale" in her debut or the sun-soaked shores of Solar Power, she gravitates toward the fluid, the shifting, and the deep. So, when news broke that she was contributing to the Take Me To The River Lorde collaboration for A24’s Everyone’s Getting Involved: A Tribute to Talking Heads’ Stop Making Sense, it felt less like a surprise and more like an inevitability.
The track isn't just a cover. It’s a haunting, glitchy, and deeply percussive reimagining of a song that has been through many lives already. Originally penned by Al Green and Mabon "Teenie" Hodges in 1974, it became a massive hit for Talking Heads in 1978. Now, Lorde has stripped it back to the studs and rebuilt it in her own image.
It's weird. It’s visceral. And honestly? It’s exactly what a tribute album needs to stay relevant in a world saturated with lazy nostalgia.
Why Lorde and Talking Heads Actually Make Sense
You might think a New Zealand pop star and a 70s art-punk band have nothing in common. You'd be wrong. David Byrne’s career has been defined by a kind of intellectual twitchiness—a frantic, wide-eyed observation of the mundane. Lorde does the same thing, just with more synthesizers and less gray suits.
When Lorde released the Take Me To The River Lorde cover in early 2024, she shared a lengthy, heartfelt note about her first time hearing Talking Heads. She was 12. Her mom showed her a YouTube clip of the band. In that moment, she realized that being a "pop star" didn't have to mean being polished; it could mean being strange, jerky, and rhythmic.
She described the experience as a "spiritual epiphany."
That connection is why her version works. She isn't trying to out-funk Al Green or out-eccentric David Byrne. Instead, she leans into the spiritual aspect of the lyrics. The song is about baptism, desire, and surrender. While the Talking Heads version is bouncy and anxious, Lorde’s version sounds like it’s happening underwater, or perhaps in the middle of a fever dream in the New Zealand bush.
The Sonic Architecture of the Cover
Let’s talk about the sound.
Most people expect a cover to follow the original's blueprint. Lorde threw the blueprint in the trash. The track opens with these heavy, industrial thuds—not a standard drum kit, but something that feels more like machinery or a heartbeat.
📖 Related: The A Wrinkle in Time Cast: Why This Massive Star Power Didn't Save the Movie
Then comes the bass. It’s thick. It’s distorted.
Her vocals are layered in that signature "Lorde way." There are whispers, sharp exhales, and moments where her voice sounds like it’s being fed through a broken radio. It creates this sense of intimacy and distance at the same time. You’re right there with her, but you’re also lost in the production.
- The Percussion: It’s not a steady 4/4 beat. It stutters.
- The Atmosphere: There’s a lot of "negative space." Silence is used as an instrument here.
- The Climax: Unlike the original, which builds to a soulful horn-driven peak, Lorde’s version builds to a rhythmic, chant-like frenzy.
By the time the song hits the two-minute mark, you realize she's turned a soul classic into an art-pop experiment. It's risky. Some fans of the original Talking Heads version might find it too jarring. But that’s the point of a tribute album curated by A24—it’s supposed to be cinema for the ears.
The A24 Connection and the Stop Making Sense Legacy
You can't talk about Take Me To The River Lorde without talking about the broader project. A24 acquired the rights to the concert film Stop Making Sense and gave it a 4K restoration. To celebrate, they gathered a wild roster of artists: Paramore, Miley Cyrus, Girl in Red, and of course, Lorde.
The Everyone’s Getting Involved project is massive. It bridges the gap between the Gen Xers who saw Byrne live in 1983 and the Gen Z kids who know Lorde from TikTok.
Lorde's contribution is arguably the centerpiece.
Why? Because she captures the spirit of the original film. Stop Making Sense was about the physical act of making music—the sweat, the movement, the stagecraft. Lorde’s track feels physical. You can hear her moving. You can hear the effort. It feels like a performance, not just a studio recording.
What Most People Get Wrong About This Version
A common critique of modern covers is that they are "too slow" or "too moody." We’ve all heard the slowed-down, breathy versions of 80s hits used in horror movie trailers. It’s a trope at this point.
👉 See also: Cuba Gooding Jr OJ: Why the Performance Everyone Hated Was Actually Genius
However, calling the Take Me To The River Lorde cover a "moody slowed-down version" is lazy.
It actually has quite a bit of tempo. The energy is just internal rather than external. While Al Green’s version is a plea for salvation and the Talking Heads version is an art-school workout, Lorde’s version is a ritual. It’s about the internal tug-of-war of wanting something that might destroy you.
When she sings "Drop me in the water," she doesn't sound like she's asking for a bath. She sounds like she's asking for a transformation.
The Cultural Impact of the Revival
Music in 2026 has become increasingly fragmented. We have "micro-genres" for everything. But a song like Take Me To The River acts as a tether. It connects the 70s soul scene, the 80s post-punk movement, and the 2020s experimental pop world.
Lorde’s involvement brought a massive amount of attention to the Talking Heads' catalog. Spotify data showed a significant spike in "first-time listeners" for the original Stop Making Sense album following the release of the tribute singles. This is the "Lorde Effect." She has a way of validating older art for a younger audience without making it feel like a history lesson.
It’s also worth noting the production credits. Lorde worked closely with her inner circle to ensure the track felt cohesive with her own evolving sound. It bridges the gap between the polished pop of Melodrama and the more organic, percussive experiments she's been playing with lately.
Exploring the Lyrics Through a Modern Lens
The lyrics to Take Me To The River are deceptively simple.
- "I don't know why I love you like I do"
- "All the trouble you put me through"
- "Sixteen candles burnin' on my wall"
In the 70s, these were classic R&B tropes. In the hands of David Byrne, they became a commentary on obsession. In the hands of Lorde, they feel like an exploration of power dynamics. When she sings about giving up her "money and my cigarettes," it feels grounded in a specific kind of modern weariness.
✨ Don't miss: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
She treats the song as a narrative. There is a beginning, a middle, and an end. The way she delivers the lines is almost conversational, like she's telling a secret that she's finally ready to let go of.
Actionable Takeaways for Music Fans and Creators
If you’re a fan of Lorde, or if you’re a musician looking to understand how to approach a cover, there are real lessons to be learned from this track.
First, don't mimic the original. If you want to hear the Talking Heads, listen to the Talking Heads. Lorde’s success with this track comes from her willingness to be disliked by purists. She prioritized her own artistic voice over "faithfulness" to the source material.
Second, embrace the weird. The weirdest parts of the Take Me To The River Lorde cover—the heavy breathing, the odd percussion, the distorted bass—are the parts people remember. In a digital landscape where everything is "optimized" to be pleasant background music, being slightly uncomfortable is a superpower.
Finally, understand the lineage. Lorde didn't just record a song; she joined a conversation. She researched the history, felt the emotional weight of the original performers, and then added her own chapter.
To truly appreciate the track, do the following:
- Listen to Al Green’s original 1974 version to feel the soul and the grit.
- Watch the Talking Heads' performance from Stop Making Sense to see the frantic energy Lorde was inspired by.
- Listen to Lorde’s version with high-quality headphones. The "hidden" sounds in the mix—the whispers and the industrial clangs—are lost on cheap speakers.
- Read Lorde's original newsletter post about the song to understand her "spiritual" connection to David Byrne’s work.
This cover isn't just a placeholder between albums. It’s a bold statement on how influence works. It proves that a great song is never truly finished; it just waits for the next person to come along and find a new way to drown in it.