Though her first album was a big hit both commercially and critically, Lana Del Rey was often the target of sexist attacks and questions about her authenticity.

Detractors suggested she was a pre-packaged studio product, apparently unable to accept that a woman could look like a model and be a great songwriter. Some critics even jumped on the fact that she had changed her name as evidence of some deception, presumably without lobbing the same attack at Bob Dylan, David Bowie, Stevie Wonder or any number of modern pop stars.

When Del Rey delivered a lackluster live performance on SNL two weeks before Born to Die‘s release, she was raked over the coals with a viciousness entirely disproportionate to her crime of appearing nervous onstage.

The intense scrutiny made Del Rey hesitant to return to the studio, and she dismissed the idea of recording a follow-up album because she “already said everything I wanted to say.”

It didn’t take long to reverse course, however, and a year later she asked the Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach to produce her next album, a cinematic, jazzy, guitar-driven collection called Ultraviolence.

This atmospheric record, released in June of 2014, managed to free Del Rey from the unwarranted scrutiny and cement her as a talented singer-songwriter with a compelling vision. Ultraviolence showed up near the top of many year-end lists.

This is also where I joined the party. Reading my pre-2014 blog posts about Del Rey reveals that I shared some of that skepticism about her talent. In one post, written after the release of Ultraviolence, I declared that she was simultaneously the most underrated and overrated artist because her early detractors were misguided but so were those newly lavishing her with praise.

Then I spent some time with the album. Ultraviolence is a classic grower, the kind of album I need to hear three times to love. But after that third listen, I’m hooked for life.

Packed with lush strings, distorted guitars, and Bond theme elegance, this is a dark and moody masterpiece. It also has a strong backbone of sly satire, with songs like ‘Fucked My Way Up to the Top’ tackling those early critics with a demonic wink.

The experience of writing and recording Ultraviolence, along with its reception, apparently cured Del Rey of her reluctance to produce new material. She started working on her follow-up album several months after this one was released.