Who is Lana Del Rey?
Good question. The blonde, fish-lipped beauty seems to have emerged onto the American music scene in recent months with her star already fully formed and all the hype the Internet can muster at her back. Controversy has sprung up just as quickly, accusing her of being inauthentic and calling her fame a present from her father, millionaire Robert Grant. In light of this sudden stardom, her new album _Born to Die_ has a lot to prove.
If Nancy Sinatra ever collaborated with Clint Mansell, the resulting product would probably sound a lot like _Born to Die_. Del Rey’s distinctive image and sound mix old-Hollywood glamour with lowtown NYC grunge and a heavy dose of ironic Americana. Wherever she came from and how much of her story is real, Del Rey’s album is able to stand apart from her persona as a solid, intriguing record, but definitely not one for everyone.
The album opens with the title track, “Born to Die,” one of its strongest offerings and a succinct introduction to what Lana Del Rey is about: melancholy, city streets and relationships on the verge of collapse, as she croons in the chorus that “Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, I don’t know why.” Next is the heady “Off to the Races,” which takes her self-described “Lolita lost in the hood” persona to its logical extreme by quoting the opening lines of Nabokov’s classic in its refrain.
Other album standouts include “National Anthem,” a cheeky, kitschy tribute to American materialism, the sleepy but moving “Video Games,” and “Dark Paradise,” a gloomy, wistful song about lost love. Less compelling are “Blue Jeans” and “Diet Mountain Dew.” Yes, that is the name of a track.
_Born to Die_’s primary flaw is its repetition. Just like she only sings in two registers — deep, husky drawl on one hand, syrupy sweet little-girl warble on the other — Del Rey only seems capable of writing two sorts of songs: ballads so slow and ponderous that they’re practically lullabies and dizzy, string-laden songs that might have come from a Bjork B-side. Her lyrics also tend to invoke a sense of déjà vu from one track to the next.
Seven of the 15 songs on the deluxe-edition album take time out to mention that Del Rey is wearing a dress — in three of those seven, it’s a red dress — and phrases like “going downtown” and “Coney Island Queen” crop up so often throughout the record that I lost count.
If nothing else, _Born to Die_ provides an interesting platform for the pop cultural experiment that is Lana Del Rey: a singer who seems to be simultaneously gunning for the soulful indie-girl image of Fiona Apple and the fame, big appearances and carefully manufactured persona of Lady Gaga. Her dreamy, unique sound is sure to capture a devoted fan base, but as far as mainstream success is concerned, especially in light of her fumbling, awkward performance in front of 3 million people on the Jan. 14 episode of Saturday Night Live, the album title feels destined to prove prophetic.