Thursday, February 02, 2012

Music Matters: Lana Del Ray: Born To Die


Lana Del Ray, Born to Die, Interscope Records, 2012
Download Now: Video Games

Lana Del Ray's debut album, "Born to Die," reminds a jaded, pessimistic generation, acutely aware of its civilizations's harbingers of doom, to relax. The album, at it's core, is a Rorschach test that measures the listener's ability to "stop worrying and love the bomb."

Del Ray has created an album that accepts that the end is nigh but refuses to accept hopelessness. It's true that the laconic orchestration that buttresses each track is more "Requiem" than "He is Risen." An ominous church bell rings out in the opening measures of "Video Games," as a few lonely chords drone out of the piano, but then, like a joke in a eulogy, a few strums from the harp subtlety alter the mood.

The lyrics weave the story of a fantasy women who says things like,
"...this is my idea of fun/ Playing video games/It's you, It's you it's all for you / Everything I do. I tell you all the time/Heaven is a place on earth with you/ Tell me all the things you wanna do..."
When I first heard these lyrics I frantically sent the song to a friend and said, "Finally, a love song for the men of our generation." But Del Ray's vocals suggest that my enthusiasm should have been somewhat tempered. While there are moments of loving lilts in her vocalization the artificial echo effect added to her voice creates a sense of distance and her husky nasal tone sounds more resigned than passionate (for more blatant cues see the video above). When the lyrics are examined under this light they seem to suggest that loving a man who loves video games is more best-available-option than first choice, and a militaristic snare drum rift  toward the end of the track signifies that she will march on content in this reality.

But Del Ray is not merely interested in putting a happy face on a less than desirable situation, she is interested in why we buy into the facade. The violin arrangement at the top of "National Anthem," is reminiscent of The Verve's "Bittersweet Symphony," a song that laments, "You're a slave to money then you die." Del Ray reframes the sentiment with the lyric, "Money is the reason we exist / Everybody knows this, kiss, kiss." While the tone echoes The Verve's nihilism, there is an undertone of cheekiness that suggests that although we are all hopelessly consumed by masking our problems with money and things, deep down we all know this does not work. In a track entitled "Carmen" the heroine "...doesn't have a problem/ Lying to herself because her liquor's top-shelf," and neither do we.

"Born to Die" is the soundtrack for Millennials who never expected to receive a Social Security check or find more happiness than unboxing a new iThing. We have a keen sense that our money is going to run out and the comfort afforded to us by our stuff will not last. Del Ray reminds us that, while all of that is true, we can always have our "Pabst Blue Ribbon on ice," and laugh in the face of despair.