After a fairly long drought when it comes to new music, I recently picked up four new albums that have received a lot of high praise. I’ll feature a song from each the rest of this week.

I didn’t “get” Lana Del Rey until the third time I listened to her new album, Ultraviolence. And during that third listen, I got her completely.

After two listens, I was prepared to dismiss this album as pretty but forgettable. I’m glad I gave it another shot.

Every song on Ultraviolence would make a terrific Bond theme. Del Rey’s ethereal vocals are bathed in strings and distorted bass, and the music just cries out for one of those smoky montages of naked women in silhouette doing somersaults out of gun barrels.

Lyrically, there’s a whole lot going on. Those who’ve dismissed Del Rey as a lightweight clearly haven’t spent much time with her songs. She writes provocative, challenging lyrics, often taking jabs at her critics by embracing their barbs with rich satire, as on one of the album’s best tracks, ‘Fucked My Way Up to the Top.’

The title track, today’s SOTD, was inspired by a cult Del Rey was involved in during her tumultuous 20s. It’s disturbing and even irresponsible (quoting The Crystals’ ‘He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss),’ penned by Carole King, is an eye-opening choice) but utterly captivating.

I can say the same for the whole album. Just make sure you give it at least three listens.

Note: For those who followed yesterday’s Taylor Swift “victim” conversation, here’s an example of a song that deals with the singer’s victimhood, but in a provocative and complicated way.