Today’s post wraps up my deep dive on Lana Del Rey but I hope my readers are ready for more. Next week I’m moving on to her newest release, Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, which dropped today.
For both logistical reasons and because I’m very excited about the album, I will be giving the record the ‘full tracklist’ treatment, dissecting its songs in order on the blog over the next few weeks.
After a steady diet of an album every other year, Lana Del Rey surprised everyone by dropping a second record just six months after Chemtrails over the Country Club. The pair of folk rock releases drew a neat parallel to Taylor Swift’s folklore/evermore duo the previous year.
Blue Bannisters came out in October of 2021 with very little fanfare and almost no promotion by Del Rey herself. She says she designed the album as a response to criticism aimed at her over the years, and as a glimpse at the troubled human being behind the pop star.
The result is the most gorgeous therapy session you’ll ever hear.
Lana Del Rey had a tough act to follow after the orgasmic reception to Norman Fucking Rockwell and she responded to the challenge by delivering her quietest and most personal record yet. 2021’s Chemtrails Over the Country Club strips away any hints of modern pop present in its predecessor and doubles down on the atmospheric folk.
Some fans decried the continued move away from the trip-hop trappings of her early work, somehow unsatisfied with the bounty of beautiful songs Del Rey was delivering. I’ll take gorgeous acoustic melancholy any day over just about anything else, so this album is right in my sweet spot.
In 2019, Lana Del Rey closed out the 2010s with her fifth — and best — album, a stunning collection of folk pop titled Norman Fucking Rockwell.
As the cheeky title implies, the record again finds her tweaking traditional American ideals and iconography. It’s a darkly romantic soundtrack to the end of the world, with Del Rey yearning for connection against the backdrop of a Los Angeles that’s literally on fire (I’m talking about the music, but the gorgeous album cover depicts exactly this as well).
Lana Del Rey’s big smile on the cover art of 2017’s Lust For Life is the first indication that this collection will differ from her previous work. Would the melancholy queen actually sound happy for a change?
I don’t know if I’d go that far, but this is a brighter and more optimistic record than its predecessors. Sonically, it reaches back to the hip-hop influences of Born to Die and comes the closest to a traditional pop album that Del Rey is likely going to get. She even has features on five tracks.
Meet Me In Montauk 