Lana Del Rey, Born To Die

Lana Del Rey has captured part of the zeitgeist in a peculiar way, not by tapping into what’s happening at the moment, or predicting what might be coming next, or even by commenting on it by putting a retro slant on a current trend. Instead, she’s staked her pop culture territory by being absolutely bored with everything. And instead of keeping herself busy (say what you will about Lady Gaga, dude multi-tasks), she just stays bored, and shows it to us, full stop. She’s got the sleepy, slurred delivery of someone like Niko, distilled through a tradition of vowel-bending moaned and yodeled out by the likes of Tori Amos and Jewel. But to watch Lana Del Rey perform—and to be certain, the visual is part of the act—is to see someone whose lack of interest in performing is the performance itself. With her monotone delivery, long nails, heavy wig, and sleepy eyes, Del Rey’s singing on SNL recalled no one more than that show’s own A-Hole (Two A-Holes Sing on SNL), played by Kristen Wiig. Born To Die, the debut album by Lana Del Rey, looks like a rabbit.

Much of Born To Die is interesting, if not compelling. Del Rey may indeed be playing a character, but I don’t care what happens to her. It’s all presented through a haze of keyboards, atmospheric fuzz, and echoing percussion. Del Rey’s lethargic delivery is kind of dreamily druggy. She sounds like Enya crossed with the woman who sings Cryin’ in Spanish in Mulholland Drive. Some of the songs approach a Stevie Nicks-like edge, but most hover around Margo Timmins, from Cowboy Junkies, after an Ambien, some warm milk, and a good hard stare at a swinging gold watch.

My least favorite song on the album is probably the best. It’s called, sigh, Diet Mountain Dew, and it has cheeky lyrics and what passes on Born To Die for a rhythm section. But Del Rey sings it in a babyvoice falsetto that grates. When did Hipster Paris Hilton become a thing? She does it more, to slightly better effect, on Off To The Races, which has such a bouncy chorus you can practically see a ball skipping across the lyrics.

I always end these reviews by stating the highlight, which requires that I find one. I suppose that would have to be the infamous Video Games, which she performed to no avail on SNL. It’s hilarious, with dramatic strings swelling in the background, while Del Rey sings about unrequited love, or at least the frustrating love that happens while a girl’s boyfriend would rather play video games than watch her text and look at shoes on Tumblr while she ignores him.

Grade: D+