Lana Del Rey: Born To Die - Album Review

Lana Del Rey
Born To Die
Rating: Grrrr

They say any publicity is good publicity. Poor Lana Del Rey (the nom de plume of American singer/songwriter Elizabeth Grant) has had both sides of it. Lauded earlier in 2011 for her brilliant single "Video Games" that introduced her husky voice and laconic delivery, then blasted for apparently using her father's connections and money to get her career moving, and also for her disastrous SNL appearance and other, less than stellar live performances. But for the moment, she appears to be all anyone can talk about. Her sex kitten image, her retro, yet modern sound, her rapid rise up the music charts; it all smacks of divine intervention somehow. Is she a puppet of record label honchos, or is she truly a talent that is being pilloried because of rampant jealousy? I guess, image and personality aside, it all comes down to the music and whether she can deliver.

Does her album live up to the hype created by the singles "Video Games," "Blue Jeans," and "Born to Die?" The answer is, well, yes and no. Utilizing production from Emile Haynie (Kid Cudi, Eminem, Tinie Tempah), the album definitely has a singular vision, a "gangsta Nancy Sinatra" as Del Rey describes her sound. The songs are smoky ballads, drawing from 50's noir, touches of Morricione strings and guitar, but bounded by elements of hip-hop and trip hop. The first half of the album practically screams "classic" album, with the 4 song strong opening of the aforementioned songs and the track "Off to the Races," which is striking with its more tongue in cheek vocal turn from Del Rey, and the punctuation of hip hop drums and vocal samples. When her voice rises on the chorus into a Betty Boop squeal, it is pure genius.



But of course the true jewels are the laconic, and practically iconic tracks "Video Games" and "Blue Jeans" which perfectly encapsulate her persona and sound. Her deep, throaty voice, almost emotionless, carries such weight that you know the real story is in the details and background. The music lifts the songs to a new level, caressing her vocals, adding the perfect amount of drama and pathos.





While the rest of the album fails to scale the heights of these tracks, Del Rey still has some tricks up here sleeve. The gorgeous, sweet voiced "Radio" shows her more pop-leaning side.



Torch song "Million Dollar Man" has Del Rey channeling Fiona Apple's dusky growl, and almost cracks the icy shell she surrounds herself with.



"Diet Mountain Dew," is a sassy, half hip-hop, half R&B number that highlights her coy delivery.



And "National Anthem" with its sweeping drums and dark strings perfectly details a life of privilege and excess.



The complaints about the album are completely valid. The lyrics, aside from "Video Games" and "Blue Jeans" can come across as somewhat banal, plus the subject matter rarely transcends subjects like bad boy/bad girl love, drinks, drugs, and partying. And over the course of 12 tracks the limited palate of strings, hip hop drums, and spikes of samples, can get a little one note. But, all interview and live performances aside, the girl has some major presence. You are never bored during the record. Her voice is crystalline and perfectly suited to the material. While you may not believe what she is singing about she definitely sells it to you. Where does Del Rey go from here? Too early to tell. Her voice is so pure and classic sounding, it can hold up under any backing. Another album of modernized torch songs would pretty much put the nail in the coffin for me (cough cough, Adele, I am talking about you), but I think Del Rey is savvy enough not to allow herself to become pigeonholed too quickly. Just have to wait and see if she reveals the puppet strings or stands out on her own.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and peaks one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.