Lana Del Rey - Born To Die Review

Let’s forget all we know about Lana Del Rey, all the aspects that have misconstrued her as an artist and focus solely on this album. Forget about Lizzie Grant, the wealthy father, the horrendous Saturday Night Live appearance doing the rounds on YouTube and the fact she doesn'y write her own songs. Let’s just go for the album as a whole shall we?

The first single off the album, Video Games, is very different to the rest of the album in my opinion. Its slow stirring vocals and scarce use of piano and harp, is a contrast to Blue Jeans with its sampled man hollering, the spaghetti western –esq guitar, thudding beat and keyboards ,the two could be done by different artists if it were not for Del Rey’s vocals purring the lyrics through those Jagger-pout lips.

Through listening to this album I found myself actually enjoying it in places, although every cell in my body was telling not to because of my disgust of similarly manufactured pop stars such as Lady Gaga, Rihanna and the other lot who deserve to be in the bargain bin of a rundown record shop for all I care. Off To the Races, Diet Mountain Dew and Blue Jeans all had me nodding my head appreciating the fact that the lyrics weren’t just another dully obvious innuendo used to appear ‘edgy’.

Of course there were parts I thought were bloody awful. The title song and second single from Ms Del Rey, Born to Die and National Anthem are dreary and I’m not entirely sure if she does it on purpose but it’s a bit of a pastiche to say “money is the anthem, of success” if you do take into account that her Daddy funded her trips to the recording studio because he’s got loads of money. Also I got bored quickly of hearing about her being kissed. “Kiss me on my open mouth” (which must be the most awkward way to kiss someone), “kiss me hard before you go”, “let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain”, I know what those lips are for but really, Lana, you don’t have to keep reminding me.

Also she’s a moody so-and-so throughout the whole album! I’m waiting desperately for the moment she cracks a smile, which might well be impossible with that beak, and she realises actually life’s probably pretty good with her Million Dollar Man and she should be thankful for what she’s got.

However it’s relentless and after a while her voice, that I initially liked, drones on and I became ever closer to beating my head on desk in front of me. The sample of the man yelping, I at first liked, it was a sort of throw out to hip-hop, however it’s used on about six tracks and I found myself longing for the producer to just tell him to give it a rest.

 I get what she’s trying to do; it’s an accusing finger pointing at the girls who were only after the money, the slutty ones chasing the older men. I get that, but it’s just too much. One or two songs would be adequate on the subject, and like I said in four songs I actually liked this album, nevertheless that’s four out of fifteen and the other eleven all seem to merge into the same “my man’s old and rich, I’m not happy” mould and it’s boring.

If eventually we do take into account that she seems to have a number of factors against her i.e. the wealthy father funding the recording, whilst she sings about a hard life was never going to do her any favours. The disastrous Saturday Night Live performance showed she wasn’t any good live and the fact she changed her name, which actually isn’t that big of a deal (anybody remember Reginald Dwight or Stephanie Germanotta?), all seem to leave a sour taste in the mouth.

Poor Lizzie.

1.5 stars