Lana Del Rey

Elizabeth Woolridge Grant (born June 21, 1985), known professionally as Lana Del Rey, is an American singer and songwriter. Her music has been noted by critics for its stylized cinematic quality, its preoccupation with themes of tragic romance, glamour, and melancholia, and its references to pop culture, particularly 1950s and 1960s Americana…

Lana Del Rey knows perfectly well her Lust for Life sounds sleepy in comparison to Iggy Pop's full-blooded roar, but that doesn't mean the title of her fourth album is ironic. Compared to her previous albums, especially its somnolent 2015 predecessor, Honeymoon, Lust for Life is positively ebullient in tone, if not in tempo. Lana Del Rey may sing about a "Summer Bummer" but the song isn't in sway to a narcotic undertow; it simmers, offering a cool bit of seduction for muggy August nights. LDR retains this delicate balance throughout the lengthy Lust for Life (at 71 minutes, this is an album as playlist, designed to be looped over and over as mood music), never quite succumbing to either despair or ecstasy but rather finding a place where there's no separation between the two emotions.

Lana Del Rey - Honeymoon (2015) {Polydor 4748830}
EAC rip (secure mode) | FLAC (tracks)+CUE+LOG -> 377 Mb | MP3 @320 -> 154 Mb
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© 2015 Lana Del Rey / Polydor / Interscope Records | 4748830
Rock / Pop / Indie Pop / Adult Alternative Pop / Ballad

Call Honeymoon the third installment in a trilogy if you will but there's no indication Lana Del Rey will put her doomed diva persona to rest after this album. Over the course of three albums, Lana Del Rey hasn't so much expanded her delicately sculpted persona as she has refined it, removing anything extraneous to her exquisite ennui. Honeymoon doesn't drift or float, it marks time, sometimes swelling with a suggestion of impending melodrama but often deflating to just an innervated pulse. Apart from the syncopated chorus on "High on the Beach," any lingering element of the hip-hop affectations of Born to Die have been banished and so have the shade and light Dan Auerbach brought to Ultraviolence, a record that feels cinematic in comparison to Honeymoon.

Call Honeymoon the third installment in a trilogy if you will but there's no indication Lana Del Rey will put her doomed diva persona to rest after this album. Over the course of three albums, Lana Del Rey hasn't so much expanded her delicately sculpted persona as she has refined it, removing anything extraneous to her exquisite ennui. Honeymoon doesn't drift or float, it marks time, sometimes swelling with a suggestion of impending melodrama but often deflating to just an innervated pulse. Apart from the syncopated chorus on "High on the Beach," any lingering element of the hip-hop affectations of Born to Die have been banished and so have the shade and light Dan Auerbach brought to Ultraviolence, a record that feels cinematic in comparison to Honeymoon…

Lana Del Rey could have retired after the cinematic grandeur of her 2019 high-water mark Norman Fucking Rockwell! That album's imaginative songwriting, finely crafted performances, and exceptional production served as a realization of the magnificence promised by earlier efforts, and the deepest look yet at Del Rey's stormy inner world. Subsequent albums suggested a little bit of a comedown after such heights. Both released in 2021, Chemtrails Over the Country Club felt like an NFR! bonus reel, while Blue Banisters played like a mixtape of solid but random song ideas. Ninth album Did you know that there's a tunnel under Ocean Blvd finds Del Rey returning to the powerful level of song sculpting she reached on NFR!, and feels like a strong step forward as much as it does a worthy follow-up to her best record.

The Paradise Edition added a second CD for a total of 23 tracks. Even after selling nearly three million copies of her debut album worldwide, Lana Del Rey still faced a challenge during 2012: namely, proving to critics and fans that Born to Die wasn't a fluke. In that spirit, she released Paradise, a mini-album close to Christmas, one that finds her copying nearly wholesale the look and feel of her vampish Born to Die personality. The sound is also very familiar. Strings move at a glacial pace, drums crash like waves in slow motion, and most of the additional textures in these songs (usually electric guitar or piano) are cinematic in their sound and references. Del Rey is in perfect control of her voice, much more assured than she was even one year ago, and frequently capable of astonishing her listeners with a very convincing act, even while playing nearly the same character in each song.

If Lana Del Rey's 2021 album Chemtrails Over the Country Club felt like the atmospheric post-script to her 2019 master statement Norman Fucking Rockwell!, Blue Banisters comes off like the addendum to the post-script. Released just seventh months after its predecessor, Blue Banisters isn't too far removed from the midtempo, woozy tones that defined that album. The 15 tracks here span about an hour running time, and generally stick to the familiar framework of sad-hearted torch songs for a burning world that Lana has built her entire discography on. Closely inspecting the songwriting, production, performance, and sequencing choice on Blue Banisters, however, reveals some moments of quiet evolution.