If you printed out every word that was written on the Internet about Lana Del Rey by the time her debut album, Born to Die, leaked earlier this week, the resulting stack of paper would reach from the lowest point on Earth to the moon. OK, that’s probably not true. But it sure seems like it, doesn’t it? And now that the full album has reached the hard drives of fans and detractors all over the world, the polarizing reviews are already rolling in.
Although I decided, a while back, that I wasn’t terribly interested in adding to the “LDR” chatter that’s consumed the blogosphere, I couldn’t resist trying out a little experiment on Born to Die. Instead of engaging with Del Rey’s appearance, music videos, interviews, Saturday Night Live performance, and critical reception, I wanted to listen to the album with fresh ears. What follows is an attempt — and not an entirely successful one — to review Born to Die based solely on the music itself.
The title
There isn’t a living thing on this earth that wasn’t ultimately “born to die.” But you wouldn’t call your first complete statement as a musician “sky is blue” or “income tax returns are due April 15th.” The title suggests, then, that Lana Del Rey was born specifically or solely to die. Death isn’t simply the inevitable outcome of her life; it’s the single or most significant outcome. So, before we even press “play,” we’ve got to keep in mind that we’re listening to someone who not only believes she’s doomed, but believes that her purpose is to be doomed (or, at the very least, wants us to believe that).
The voice
Aside from some swooning strings (about which, more later), what’s notable about the sound of Lana Del Rey’s music is her voice. It does two things, and not much in between: Most of the time, it’s a liquor-soaked sub-alto, a whisper so lethargic that it almost seems artificially slowed down. This is a jaded and world-weary voice, and one without a whole lot of range or nuance. It sounds like a copy of a copy, a conscious attempt to sing in a certain way.
Del Rey’s other mode — her baby voice — feels even more affected. It’s a pouty, Marilyn Monroe falsetto, the aural equivalent of simpering. On “Off to the Races,” she alternates between the two in a way that’s jarring, as though she’s regressing to childhood and then growing up again as we listen, and that can’t be totally meaningless in a song that also quotes the opening lines of Lolita. Still, these extremes fit a bit too comfortably into a mighty entrenched female dichotomy, without really registering as ironic.
Emotions
Here is the other funny thing about Lana Del Rey’s voice: High or low, it is almost always monotonous. What makes that particularly strange is that she’s always singing about some extreme emotion — love so intoxicating it commandeers every cell of your body, longing so desperate that it renders thinking about anything but the object of desire impossible. On “Born to Die,” Del Rey sings about how she wants to “kiss you so hard” and begs, “Don’t make me sad/ Don’t make me cry.” But she utters these lyrics in the catatonic drone of someone who’s feeling no pain. You can practically hear her yawning through the big, emotional breakdown on “Without You,” when she laments, “I’m nothing if I can’t have you.”
This juxtaposition of emotionally charged lyrics and limp vocals is curious. Is it subversive? It seems like it might be. Many of Del Rey’s lines are quotes or clichés. They probably don’t actually come straight from her reportedly lovelorn heart. But is she aware of it? Is she doing this on purpose? Are we supposed to hear her drawl and think about all the times we’ve heard these phrases before, and why they’ve come to sound so empty?
Cinema
Now, about those strings. Outside of some occasional, dramatic percussion, they’re the only instrumental element worth mentioning on Born to Die. Hearing the first swells of the opening title track, I immediately thought of cinema — specifically, the sweeping strings of mid-century classics, suggesting no particular movie so much as the general idea of movies.
The lyrics draw from the same medium and period, bringing to mind both the French New Wave and Nicholas Ray. Del Rey name-drops James Dean and paints pictures of swimming pools and the Hamptons and New York City. Coney Island comes up in at least two separate tracks. Her characters are constantly smoking. “This Is What Makes Us Girls” is practically a ’50s coming-of-age movie in itself, complete with retrograde gender roles: “This is what makes us girls/ We don’t stick together ’cause we put our love first.” The problem is that the music and the lyrics fit together so well that their fusion obliterates any trace of spontaneity; Del Rey’s point of view is relentlessly on-message, making the songs on Born to Die so similar to each other that they become interchangeable. Three tracks into the album, the idea that I had 12 more to hear was exhausting.
Clothing
Lana Del Rey tells us what she and her paramour are wearing so often that, listening to Born to Die, I sometimes felt like I was eavesdropping on phone sex. “Summertime Sadness” warns us that she’s “got my red dress on tonight,” with her “hair up real big beauty queen-style.” The first thing she tells us about her James Dean-like lover in “Blue Jeans” is — guess what? — that he’s sporting “blue jeans, white shirt.” In “Video Games,” she informs us that she’s “in his favorite sundress” and has spritzed herself with “his favorite perfume.” Del Rey even wants us to know what she’s not wearing. On “Off to the Races,” she’s got her “white bikini off with my nail polish.”
Born to Die is practically obsessive in its need to tell us what the singer looks like and which sorts of places she tends to find herself in. But just because it conjures up some vivid imagery doesn’t mean it gives us a sense of who she actually is. Is there anything we can say about this woman beyond physical description? She’s beautiful, she’s in love, and love is painful — but it takes more than that to create a character. Was Lana Del Rey always supposed to be an empty signifier, or did she turn out that way by accident?
The gaze
So, here’s where this experiment fails. This is the point where I concede that it’s impossible to talk about Lana Del Rey without delving into the reams of criticism that attack, defend, or otherwise analyze her existence. It’s the lyrics to her songs themselves that prove there’s no way to think about her on her own terms — she doesn’t have her own terms. What she wants so desperately is to know what we — that is, the default heterosexual male listener — make of her.
Del Rey is tireless in driving home this point. “Do you think we’ll be in love forever?” she wants to know in “Diet Mountain Dew.” (Yes, that is really the song title.) “I’ve heard that you like the bad girls. Honey, is that true?” she teases in “Video Games.” On “Radio” — a pre-fame song about achieving fame — she demands, “Is my body sweet like sugar?” On “Without You,” it’s, “Am I glamorous?” Sometimes she recalls observations her lover has made about her in the past: “You said I was the most exotic flower,” she sings on “Million Dollar Man.” Listening to Born to Die straight through, it becomes clear that there is no Lana Del Rey, really. Not only does she not have a fixed meaning or character, she wants you to tell her what she means.
Comments (28)
I really like this review… great points & breakdown :)
Spot on, the album is very much void
I only saw video for title track but that was enough. I think she missed a chance at a realy great song. If she had put more emotion into it & added a little harder edge to certain parts as an accent it would have been much better. I have to agree with critic about it being monotone very little inflection given.
Given LDR’s history as Lizzie Grant, before her transformation, it is not hard to imagine that her handlers have molded the current concoction to a greater extent than Lizzie ever could alone. All pop is based on concoction. Why should we care who the “real” person is. As long as the pop idol produces the feel, sound and mystery that allures us to them, isn’t that all that matters? And there is never just one person. Pop is so ephemeral that I have imagined myself waking one day and thinking that Video Games is a run-of-the-mill song, and always was. I hope not. Because it is here that I disagree with the reviewer. Lizzie always had the talent but never knew how to channel it into a sellable commodity. The lowering of her voice within the context of the melody, which surges so powerfully in the cascading chorus of Video Games, is most definitely the work of a savvy production talent. Such ability though, would not be possible without LDR’s intrinsic talent, of which there is plenty. So who is LDR? Who cares ultimately, it doesn’t detract from the enjoyment I get when I listen to her songs. Pop has been around long enough for most of us to not allow the process get in the way of a good tune.
I agree with this review, but only up to a point. First of all, no one can legitimately review a CD on one listen-or two or three, maybe five or seven. We have all had this experience where we find we’re less than enthusiastic about a new CD, but then. Well you know what often happens. As for stating “there is no Lana Del Rey,” that she has “no fixed meaning or character,” wow! Do we mean THE Lana Del Rey who’s out there walking around right now or do we mean the adopted persona singing the songs? Chances are the person singing the songs is a bit persona and a bit of THE Lana Del Rey, much like Dickens’ David Copperfield is part Dickens, part David in his own right. This is tricky territory. But let’s just say that, indeed, there IS no Lana Del Rey. Well, somebody is singing the damn songs, and Lana Del Rey may have pulled off a public perception coup that’s altogether uncanny and remarkable–being whoever we want her to be.
Eh. I like Lana. Her voice reminds me of Hope Sandoval from Mazzy Star.
“wanted to listen to the album with fresh ears. What follows is an attempt — and not an entirely successful one — to review Born to Die based solely on the music itself.”
I think so. The review comes across a bit biased. And I’m no fan. I’ve only heard the one song.
@Solaera…. Lana is DEFINITELY not worthy of comparison to Hope Sandoval. Poppycock!
Reading this review made me think way more about her and her music then I ever had before. Did she have a make over, are her words life changing are those article I tend to ignore. The song “Video Games” has become an earworm to me but I never put any effort in trying to find any meaning behind it.
After reading the review I feel like she’s just messing with us. She’s done everything for the listener that is expected of a 2D pinup girl. She went from Norma Jean to Marilyn Monroe, she’s going to be sexy but in a I’m only what you want me to be low self esteem way, and she’s not going to waste alot of emotion on it.
I like this review of Lana Del Rey. It shows that people do care about music and art. If we are to be advertized to death with careless abandon, it is refreshing to know that someone in the field of media (thank you Judy) is obviously not being paid to fawn over whatever is produced and packaged for general consumption. Or are you? after all it is more media and most people just look at headlines…. I am glad I read this, I believe you are sincere Judy.
It’s crazy that the theme of this review is to listen to the album with “fresh ears” because it seems so built upon all the prejudices that her hype has fostered. I’d say your experiment failed.
“Many of Del Rey’s lines are quotes or clichés. They probably don’t actually come straight from her reportedly lovelorn heart. But is she aware of it?” Of course she is! You can tell she’s a smart lady and a sophisticated lyricist whose very aware of her persona and what it shares and doesn’t share with her true person. If you truly listen with “fresh ears,” in my opinion it’s fascinating.
The contrast of how “numb” she sounds when describing epic emotions is very zeitgeist. Everyone is feeling a little numb these days, and when we try to love like all the movies and songs we’ve been exposed to have taught us is “real,” we’re increasingly aware that it’s an partly an act we are willing ourselves to participate in. Rihanna’s “We Found Love” and some of Gaga’s songs sort of riff on this same theme, but never has it been explored and exploited so epicly.
In conclusion, I really encourage people to give this album a listen in the manner that the reviewer wasn’t quite able to. It’s mysterious, intriguing and hypnotic, and if that is a calculated effect on her part, more power to her. What artist doesn’t think about the effect they hope to have on their listener, and since when is this a bad thing?
@ Solaera-I agree! And is actually a mix of Hope Sandoval with Nico. ANd WHO cares who she is. Elvis didn’t write his songs. Marcel Duchamp signed his work as Rrose Selavy. Obviously, She’s been very much “produced.” BUt for a Pop song, I think is pretty good.
New to readIng the music reviews
Really enjoyed the critique of this album
Great analysation of album
More reviews should read such as this
I actually haven’t heard of this album and all the hoopla that has surrounded it
So I really enjoyed the insight
Hope to read more reviews in the near future
Judy Berman we very much enjoyed reading your structured, most diligent analysis. And it’s left us speculating on why ‘ there is no Lana Del Rey’ . Could she be in fact a fully realized construction of one particular default heterosexual male?
Great review. This music is tedious, vacuous and utterly redundant.
If this “review” makes her kill herself, she lives up to her title, AND you’re INCREDIBLE assholes.
Your first instinct to “stay out of it” was a good one. And now a missed one.
@Snark Back
If THIS is the review that makes Lana Del Rey kill herself, she’s obviously not reading the rest of the Internet. Also? Pretty sure LDR isn’t suicidal.
Copy of a copy, faux tragic, faux liquor-soaked lethargic voice. Don’t you mean Tom Waits?
Great review!
I dunno about the emotion in her voice – I don’t think she’s a very good singer – but she certainly can’t show it on her face. I find it really unsettling that someone so young has been botoxed to the point of being expressionless. Her whole face looks heavily adjusted to me, and while body-snarking is odious, I think that’s a really good indication that she cares way more about the packaging than the substance of her music.
nothing experimental about this review… just good, circumspect writing, unlike most music criticism!
GREAT review!
Lets all admit it right now… She is Katy Perry for hipsters.
Any more hate around?
Criticts are the most insignificant people in the world!
Morrissey from The Smiths was slated by the critics for his monotonous delivery and He has become a music legend. Lana Del Rae’s driving in cars with boys is a very upbeat track for those out there who can’t cope with the beautiful monotony of born to die.
@alan chappell
Are you seriously comparing LDR to Morrissey? REALLY??
Steven Patrick Morrissey’s blasé is, for one, genuine. But he has one of the most distinctive voices in pop music, his lyrics are fantatsically unique, and he has a commanding presence. There’s no doubt as to who he is.
Lana Del Ray is a singer who is slipping on a new identity to see if it fits better than her last one did.
This is a stellar review.
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