I’ve always been a fan of Lana Del Rey, from the first time I happened across her song Video Games while listening to the UK top 100 (don’t ask). I needed to know who this vintage siren was who understood my nostalgia towards life gone by while remaining fully present, in the present.
When I got Born To Die and I listened to it from start to finish I said “This is the most amazing sh*t I have listened to in ages!” Then came Paradise, or Born to Die – Paradise Edition. Again, amazing tracks. I was full and in love with the poetry, vocal stylings, controversy and audacity of an actual songwriter cooing about her life, love, her dreams and of course her flavored vagina! I wasn’t expecting her to release anything for a while and I resigned myself to that. Then West Coast came out all of a sudden and I bought it as soon as I saw it on iTunes.
West Coast touched me in a way none of her other tracks did before. The dual styled song within a song speaks to the sentiment of what the West Coast (California) represents to Americans but for me, it spoke to the West Coast of my little island and how I feel whenever I’m there – hopeful, ambitious, gifted, revered and almost worshipped. Life DOES get better, on the West Coast.
Ultraviolence as a title tickled me. I first saw it on her Instagram while trolling through my feed, I said “yaaaaaassssss bitch! Give it to me!” Upon regaining my composure I said I must get the album when it came out.
Hearing Ultraviolence was like hearing my unwritten journal entries being sung out loud by a voice that wasn’t mine. Here were my innermost thoughts and secrets being aired and reverberating through my bed from my subwoofer. I can relate to the album a little too much, more than even my closest friends will realize.
The toxic relationships, the unwavering love in the face of apathy, emotional retardation, indifference and general melancholy reminded me of my dedicated love, like St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, that still lives on to this day. A love that haunts, overwhelms and envelops.
F*cked My Way Up to the Top has replaced Cola in my mind’s default Tourette’s like song outburst. The gall of her! She is definitely controversial but it doesn’t feel deliberate. It’s simply honest and unapologetic (Hey Rihanna) and she makes real music about real life and real experiences. Some literal, some metaphorical, some lived and some witnessed.
The me of today feels about Lana Del Rey’s music like how the me of the 90s felt about Alanis Morissette. Having grown darker and more honest with myself and my pathology, Lana Del Rey is my new drug of choice.
And to the one person who won’t read this – Old Money is the song I dedicate to you, even if you change your mind I’ll come, come come.