Lana Del Rey: A Representation Of An Artist's Growth (Part 1)

Lana Del Rey has worn many faces throughout her musical journey. She began as Lizzie Grant, a shy New York open mic night singer-songwriter with a blonde bob and a voice that didn’t match her meekness. But once Elizabeth found that a pretty face and simple guitar tunes didn’t necessarily carry the momentum she craved, she transformed into the artistic persona she’s recognized as today. And once she started sharing homemade music videos of her first demo releases such as National Anthem, Video Games, and Lolita, the 180 degree turn around is obvious, and possibly shocking. How did someone who first appeared to be so timid adopt such a wild and illustrious character? That’s a question for another time. Today, I want to ask a different question, one that I feel is more important and that I began to ask since her 2019 release Norman F*cking Rockwell!: Has the melancholic and flirty figure of Lana Del Rey that Elizabeth Grant initially chose to foster slowly begun to fade as the importance of self-expression as a songwriter started to trump popularity as a mainstream icon? Is Lana Del Rey slowly returning to Elizabeth Grant, except older, wiser, and sleeker than before? I believe so, and the evolution of my Top 10 picks will demonstrate this to be true.

Note: While these are my Top 10 picks, the songs themselves are not listed in an order that defines them as being subjectively better or worse as another. This is simply the way I felt it was best to outline them in order to smoothly transition from one example to the next in a comprehensive manner.

10. Summertime Sadness (Born to Die)

Let’s begin, not with the beginning, but with Lana’s staple: Summertime Sadness. In the summer of 2013, even my twelve-year-old self was charmed by Cedric Gervais’s remix that defined the summer of that year. Despite the fine line between critical acclaim and criticism, Lana’s reign began here, and I’d say that when most think of the modern 60s beauty queen, the doppelganger of Priscilla Presley, they think of this song (the original or the remix). No, the lyrics are not her most heartfelt, by far, but with an entrancing melody they become clever and make the opening hook, “Kiss me hard before you go/Summertime sadness” something compelling. But, in the grander scheme, it was the energy of what she represented and the spike of fire “sizzlin’ like a snare” combined with her down-turned baby doll eyes and images of her free falling of The Suicide Bridge of Pasadena that earned her first attention as an up-and-coming artist.

9. Off to The Races (Born to Die)

If there was any song that would lay way for Lana’s criticizers to spew their nasty names, rumours and accusations about how exactly she made it to the top, and deprecate the dumb and scandalous persona she flaunted, this would be it. Like with Summertime Sadness, Off to The Races is not a soul-bearing song (unless it is of the soul of the character she wore on her wrists and played with like a bracelet), but that’s the point: this song is the embodiment of Lana Del Rey as she was. The sultry singer on this track is as far from Lizzie Grant as she could get in demeanour and appearance. However, I’d say it demonstrates her abilities as a songwriter. From the balanced structure, to the abundant lyrics, to the spirited and cheeky melodies, Lana balances the complexities with ease in a character fully fledged to the max. These skills will benefit her time and time again and prove, both to her devotees and naysayers, her legitimacy as an artist capable of telling stories and weaving blurry worlds of fantastical imagery and illustrious dreams.

8. Video Games (Born to Die)

This homemade music video and dreamy, simple ballad was what let the whole world know that Lana Del Rey was someone worth watching. It’s arguably the most revealing, hopeful, and vulnerable of all her tracks on her debut record, and I think you can hear that in the longing way in which she sings her lulling words and comforting hum. It speaks of an alternate reality, one of simple love and living. With all of Lana’s nuances and her debatable image that has made many condemn her, you can’t deny the piece of soul that’s placed in a piece such as this. She painted a picture of a perfect life, of just being. Isn’t that a lovely vision to share? It was created through the eyes of a dreamer, and it’s one of the few tracks on this record that firmly lets her audience know that the feelings behind her fantasies are not skin-deep.

7. Shades of Cool (Ultraviolence)

I cannot believe that anyone who listens to this song could keep up the incredulous critique that Lana can’t sing. Even after a track like Blue Jeans from her first release held its own and was considered by some to be technically difficult given the chorus’s dramatic range, the accusations were still thrown left and right…until the release of her second, unexpected album Ultraviolence, where even her steadiest critics took a long enough pause to listen. Lyrically, I wouldn’t say Shades of Cool is revolutionary. It tells a tale, but it’s a tale of a despondent man that weighs heavy on a little lady’s heart. Nothing new. But the quintessence of the song is held in the chorus and the beauty of Lana’s voice as it shines there. I’m not a singer, and honestly don’t know enough about vocal technique to confidently comment on it more than just to say that the musician in me knows that it’s impressive. And artistically, I think this album as a whole is where Lana’s raw talent begins to be paraded in a manner more suitable to (what I believe to be) her genuine self and deservingly appreciated by others on the outside.

6. Brooklyn Baby (Ultraviolence)

Brooklyn Baby is one of the finest gems on Ultraviolence. It accentuates Lana’s entrancing vocals, her swinging melodies and that which deserves to be most acknowledged in this particular case: her narrative lyrics. As the chorus lyrics go, “Well, my boyfriend’s in a band/He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed/I’ve got feathers in my hair/I get down to Beat poetry” the listener is transported to a small coffee shop in New York City, elated by the simplicity of such a life that melds life and art and music in a hazy dream. But the verses offset this by telling of Lana’s struggles, serving as one of the few first in which she delves into admittance and acknowledgement of the perceptions, judgements, and persecutions atoned onto her. Lyrics such as, “They judge me like a picture book/By the colors like they forgot to read” and, “You never liked the way I said it/If you don’t get it, then forget it” call notice to this, and I believe it remains a trend in her later albums spanning many years. Lana has always been one for the spotlight, but this is a definitive moment in which the difficulties of being such a character is displayed. But she indulges in it, nevertheless, with the belting of the lyric, “But I’m free/I’m free.”

Stay tuned for Part 2 for the continuation of our deep dive of Lana Del Rey’s discography coming soon!