“Born Again”: Lisa, Doja Cat and RAYE Held a Funeral for the Woman Who Kept Taking Him Back
Three women in black, one useless ex, a five-part rebirth ritual and enough fashion editorial energy to make grief look like it came with a creative director.
Overall vibe
“Born Again” is breakup liberation dressed for an expensive wake. The groove pulls from disco-pop and British soul, using live-feeling bass, bright rhythm and a chorus built to lift the room rather than hit it with a drop. That choice immediately separates the track from the harder electronic pieces surrounding Lisa’s Alter Ego campaign.
The central idea is rebirth after a relationship: the old woman who tolerated the man is dead, and the person leaving the funeral is freer, sharper and no longer interested in explaining the loss. Director Bardia Zeinali gives the transformation a fashion-film structure divided into chapters, moving the trio from mourning black toward armored white.
The hook vibe
RAYE’s melodic instincts are all over the chorus—long lines, theatrical release and the pleasure of a phrase landing exactly where the bass opens. It feels grown rather than girlish, wounded without begging.
What I love
The three voices do not pretend to be one group. Lisa is cool and precise, Doja elastic and sly, RAYE smoky and dramatic. The video lets those differences coexist inside one visual religion.
What I wanted more of
Lisa needed one section that only she could have written or performed. The track is strong, but RAYE’s vocal identity and songwriting architecture are so distinct that the collaboration can feel borrowed. Lisa delivers well; I wanted a Thai, rhythmic or personal detail that moved the center of gravity back toward the artist whose album this introduces.
The video also uses female-power iconography so beautifully that it risks becoming generalized. Apples, armor, veils and goddesses carry centuries of meaning. One image tied specifically to Lisa’s own rebirth—from YG-managed soloist to LLOUD founder—would have made the ritual more personal.
The lyrics: a eulogy with better lighting
The narrator tells an ex that losing her forced a rebirth. She is not asking him to regret the breakup so they can reunite; regret is his punishment, and transformation is hers. The phrase “born again” reframes romantic failure as identity change rather than damage requiring repair.
Doja Cat’s verse adds wit and sexual confidence. RAYE supplies the emotional authority of someone who has already walked through the fire. Lisa’s tone brings controlled distance—the version of the survivor who has finished crying before entering the room.
The five-part video transformation
| Chapter | What changes |
|---|---|
| Mourning | Black clothing and funereal staging acknowledge the woman and relationship being buried. |
| Recognition | The trio occupy the frame as witnesses and narrators, no longer trapped inside the ex’s version of events. |
| Temptation | Apple and mythic imagery connect desire, blame and the old habit of making women responsible for the fall. |
| Transformation | Fashion becomes armor; the body is restyled as power rather than evidence. |
| Rebirth | White, metallic detail and open composition replace the enclosed mourning world. |
Easter eggs and symbols worth keeping
- The apple: an Eve reference, but the video refuses the shame attached to the original story. Knowledge becomes freedom.
- Black-to-white movement: not innocence restored; identity remade after the funeral.
- Armor and metalwork: femininity is not exchanged for protection. The decoration is the protection.
- Three-woman formation: rebirth is communal, witnessed and amplified rather than a lonely self-help montage.
- Editorial chapters: the pacing resembles a magazine story, fitting three artists whose fashion identities are part of the performance.
The director and the women-behind-women feeling
Bardia Zeinali directed the video, with styling credits including Eniola Dare and Zerina Akers. His visual work often treats celebrity, fashion and humor as narrative tools rather than decoration. Here, the editorial form gives the song’s empowerment language a physical sequence.
Lisa described the video as a tribute to powerful women throughout history. That intention explains the mythic references and the refusal to center the ex visually. He exists as a cause in the lyrics, not a man receiving screen time as a reward for disappointing them.
The backstory: why this collaboration sounds like a supergroup
“Born Again” was released through LLOUD and RCA ahead of Alter Ego. RAYE’s presence is especially important because her songwriting and vocal phrasing shape the song’s spine; Doja Cat brings a contrasting rap texture; Lisa supplies the project context and performance center. The result behaves like a temporary three-member group assembled for one extremely well-dressed exorcism.
That balance is also the vulnerability. Collaboration should let guests matter, but the main artist still needs a reason the song lives on her album. The visual branding and Lisa’s controlled performance provide that reason more strongly than the composition itself.