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Album: Lana Del Rey - 'Born to Die: Paradise Edition'
Member Since: 8/10/2010
Posts: 4,708
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Umm what's the hate towards BD? I mean the song sounds so sexy and powerful!
Tho I don't use Radio.
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Member Since: 8/10/2010
Posts: 4,708
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Who's going to the Paris show btw?
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Member Since: 9/7/2010
Posts: 28,471
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The songs that shouldn't be on her albums are National Anthem, Carmen and Body Electric.
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Member Since: 8/12/2012
Posts: 13,665
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The Artist does know that the record is good, when the listeners don't agree on what the best or worst songs are on that album. 
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Member Since: 4/29/2012
Posts: 15,977
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Quote:
Originally posted by Sammi
The songs that shouldn't be on her albums are National Anthem, Carmen and Body Electric.
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What?
The birdge on NA and the epic production of Body Electrc>>>
And Carmen is perfection
The lyrics 
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Carmen, Carmen, stayin' up till mornin'
Only seventeen, but she walks the streets so mean
It's alarmin', truly, how disarmin' you can be
Eating soft ice cream, Coney Island Queen
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Baby's all dressed up with no where to go
That's the little story of the girl you know
Relyin' on the kindness of strangers
Tying cherry knots, smilin', doing party favors
Put your red dress on, put your lipstick on
Sing your song, song, now the camera's on
And you're alive again
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Member Since: 3/10/2012
Posts: 8,317
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I replaced Burning Desire with Yayo (Lana Del Ray aka Lizzy Grant) as the last track.
Power of iTunes
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Member Since: 10/8/2009
Posts: 35,527
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Quote:
Originally posted by Sammi
The songs that shouldn't be on her albums are National Anthem, Carmen and Body Electric.
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Member Since: 12/22/2007
Posts: 9,193
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Quote:
Originally posted by Sammi
The songs that shouldn't be on her albums are National Anthem, Carmen and Body Electric.
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You must be kidding me
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Banned
Member Since: 10/10/2011
Posts: 382
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Quote:
Originally posted by Lucas32
Still perection
Yes Radio is horrible too.
Radio + Burning Desire shouldn't be on her albums when there are songs like Serial Killer and Hollywood's dead waiting 
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Member Since: 9/5/2012
Posts: 802
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Quote:
Originally posted by Sammi
The songs that shouldn't be on her albums are National Anthem, Carmen and Body Electric.
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Not even, All of Lana's song's a masterpiece's. The only thing's I would change are the lyrics of Body Electric to the live version.
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Member Since: 8/12/2012
Posts: 13,665
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from Vulture
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IN A MIDDLING YEAR FOR POP MUSIC, the cleverest piece of cultural criticism nevertheless came in the form of a new hit from Lana Del Rey, aka Elizabeth Woolridge Grant, heiress to an Internet domain-name fortune and proprietor of one of the most promising voices of the Obama era. The track “National Anthem” (Born to Die, Interscope), Del Rey’s parapatriotic send-up of American luxury, may not rank as the year’s greatest song, but its eight-minute video, which reimagines the Camelot fairy tale of JFK and Jackie O, invents a new subset of pop: Call it postironic satire—a Swiftian revival that multiplies the objects of its parody with such reckless guile that it seems challenging and new. The satiric vision the video proposes is syncretic: Del Rey stands in for Jackie but also for Marilyn Monroe—and for herself, a contemporary celebrity princess; her costar in the video, fellow New Yorker A$AP Rocky, represents Kennedy but also Barack Obama and gangster rap, incarnating both the right-wing stereotype of black power and the liberal voter’s fantasy of Obama-as-messianic-prince—a limousine liberal worthy of his vehicle.
As the video begins its long intro, Del Rey steps up to a lectern and croons Monroe’s “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” to a darkened audience. The clip is black-and-white and, like much of the video, uses digitally “aged” HD to evoke either vintage 8-mm home movies or, if you prefer, the filters of Instagram. Through the silhouettes, we see a bling-fingered, cigar-smoking Rocky imbibing Del Rey’s performance with single-minded lust. The video cuts to color: In a car with a tan leather interior, a dark-skinned hand emerging from a suit jacket grasps the exposed thigh of a white woman in a short skirt; screams ensue, along with faux footage of assassination day in Dallas; then a three-second interlude of Del Rey in a patch of azaleas; then a shot of her hand grazing Rocky’s leg; finally, the camera pulls back, revealing the couple enjoying a picnic with children on the lawn of their mansion (a lyric indicates the Hamptons, though it might as well be Hyannis).
As the intro fades and the song begins in earnest, we watch Del Rey fondle lion skins, butter toast, grind with her dice-throwing, sweater-setted prez, and stroll along the beach with their exquisite offspring—stand-ins for Sasha and Malia—while issuing blunt and brutish glorifications of American culture: “Money is the anthem of success,” the chorus goes. Footage corroborates the claim, showcasing all that is wonderful, odious, and precarious in the image bank of American history. Del Rey’s heavy-handed visuals revel in sex, money, miscegenation, fame, death—the pat psychodramas that propel the narratives of both reality TV and centuries of actual Beltway scandal. But Del Rey comes to praise her country, not to bury it. If her obsession with lost American innocence feels more automated than searching, that doesn’t necessarily dilute its power. In place of critique, Del Rey uses historical mash-up to deliver a concentrated extract of contemporaneity, more eloquently pegging our cultural moment than any verse about smartphones.
According to Rocky, the video is “some swag **** . . . some 2015 ****,” suggesting its vision might be so contemporary that it could take a while to properly digest. If 2012 was the year that hip-hop finally embraced gay pride, it’s worth noting, perhaps, that Rocky, as straight male, doesn’t speak in Del Rey’s video: His erotic, mischievously coded body is featured prominently on-screen, but he isn’t “featured” on the track—he has surrendered his sexual self-presentation entirely to Del Rey. In a typical pop/hip-hop collaboration, Rocky would be allotted thirty seconds to voice his own desire and thereby reclaim the phallus. But the video for “National Anthem” isn’t a collaboration—it’s matriarchal reverie. A reversal allows Del Rey to style herself as a rapper, “winin and dinin / drinkin and drivin / excessive buyin / overdose and dyin,” projecting a persona that’s seamless and impenetrable even as her physical body stands ready to exercise its prerogatives. Del Rey is not the product of handlers: The concept for the video is her own; she penned the treatment and picked the director. In silencing Rocky, Del Rey not only puts pop on top but also isolates female desire as the essence of Americanness.
Men hardly ever speak in Del Rey’s videos. Their silence also permeates Ride. This more recent video follows the life of a streetwalking saloon singer in Big Sky Country who spends her days and nights among the motorcycle-gang members she picks up and services on the road. Although its milieu is white and poor instead of royal and interracial, Ride doubles down on the gendered incitements of Anthem. In both videos, men are treated with gentle, erotic fascination. Yet unlike the love interest in Anthem, the Hells Angel types in “Ride” are not patent hunks—they’re obese and greasy. Del Rey’s enjoyment of, for example, getting ****ed by one of the fattest of these men over a pinball machine shocks the viewer more than her cavorting with a black JFK. Where Anthem deals gingerly with race and class stereotypes, the newer video exploits them with immodest vigor, depicting rural poverty with either offensive condescension or a proud fondness bordering on nativism. “There’s no use in talking to people who have a home,” explains Del Rey’s voice-over. “They have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lay your head.” We wonder whether Del Rey herself has any idea about such things (though, in fact, she did spend a year living in a trailer park, and in varying states of “homelessness,” during her wayward adolescence). “I believe in the country America used to be,” her character proclaims. “I believe in the person I want to become.” In Ride, Del Rey, a libidinal feminist and slumming heiress, makes clear that she can do whatever—and whomever—she wants.
If satire traditionally lampoons society by ridiculing the things we revere, Del Rey reveres the things we ridicule, exalting our baser instincts and especially our exhibitionism. This isn’t to say her videos lack a reformist edge: In their shamelessness, they attack shame; in their glee, they sanctify desire, which is the ultimate subject of Del Rey’s work. For Del Rey, desire and persona are inextricable; she has turned herself into a figure for desire, and a game-changing one at that: In demeanor, clothing, makeup, and even voice, she cultivates the aesthetic of an older woman. Although barely eighteen months senior to Rihanna or Grimes, Del Rey performs as a MILF, shunning the signifiers of youth and suggesting, through extravagant self-invention, the extent to which adulthood is wasted on adults. Where Lady Gaga, Del Rey’s exact contemporary, takes her cues from big-budget musicals like Cats—outdoing her competitors by reinventing her look as many times in a single concert as Madonna has during her entire career—Del Rey has chosen embellishments that could be said to bring her closer to who she “really” is. I have no reason to doubt that Del Rey was born with those lips, but if it’s the case that they got extra help along the way, I’m thankful someone had the presence of mind to correct nature’s mistake.
For performers like Gaga, passion for artifice and modification all too easily lends itself to physical escapism—to palpable hatred of the body. What distinguishes Del Rey from her pop peers is that she’s comfortable in her various skins and commits to the characters she creates. Other stars put on costumes; Del Rey puts on personalities, much as might a Trecartin tween. In this way, more than any of her rivals, male or female, Del Rey queers pop. Her unwinking enjoyment of her own perversity would be enough to qualify her as a great queer performance artist; her astonishing television debut on Saturday Night Live last winter, in which she covered her own hits as though she were a drag-queen impersonator, put her over the top.
In a pop era dominated by gadget-obsessed austerity cults, Del Rey has taken less than a year to construct an alternative path. After launching her career on the strength of a YouTube video made with material swiped from the Web—the sources for Video Games somewhat irritatingly range from skateboarder uploads to home videos of kids swimming to paparazzi footage of a drunk Paz de la Huerta—Del Rey has gone on to exploit the medium to showcase a body of work that, refreshingly, makes you forget about the Internet. Her unfashionable insistence on iconography over technological smoke and mirrors gives her videos a substantive, meaty core. Much as her father amassed a fortune collecting domain names linked to physical places (e.g., www.philadelphiarealestate.com), Del Rey reminds us through her work that the Internet is merely a platform for delivering the things that truly matter—sex, violence, and property in the Hamptons.
Del Rey is not a political singer, whatever that could mean in 2012, but her songs and videos trade on, or perhaps consume, the great issues of our day. Del Rey is a fantasist, too, but her fantasies are worldly and ambitious. Her vision, while affirmative, is also unblinkered; through it, she brings a rare candor to an escapist enterprise. She allows us to escape, but to escape into reality, and thereby perhaps to remake it.
Christopher Glazek is a senior editor at n+1. He is currently at work on a book about the history of incarceration in America
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http://www.artforum.com/inprint/id=37457
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Member Since: 9/7/2010
Posts: 28,471
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Quote:
Originally posted by rbautz
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Very interesting article. Thx for posting it.
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Member Since: 11/11/2010
Posts: 28,420
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I kind of wish certain albums weren't released this year so I could rank this as my #1 album of the year. 
The "'God's dead', I said, 'Baby, that's alright with me!''" line may be one of my all time favorites.
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Member Since: 2/26/2012
Posts: 1,084
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And the boxset is STILL not here.....
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Member Since: 11/23/2011
Posts: 4,888
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Quote:
Originally posted by ManDown
I kind of wish certain albums weren't released this year so I could rank this as my #1 album of the year.
The "'God's dead', I said, 'Baby, that's alright with me!''" line may be one of my all time favorites. |
yes! it's my favorite on Paradise.
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Member Since: 8/12/2012
Posts: 13,665
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Quote:
Originally posted by ManDown
I kind of wish certain albums weren't released this year so I could rank this as my #1 album of the year.
The " 'God's dead', I said, 'Baby, that's alright with me!''" line may be one of my all time favorites. |
God Is Dead
from Friedrich Nietzsche
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The Madman. Have you ever heard of the madman who on a bright morning lighted a lantern and ran to the market-place calling out unceasingly: "I seek God! I seek God!" As there were many people standing about who did not believe in God, he caused a great deal of amusement. Why? is he lost? said one. Has he strayed away like a child? said another. Or does he keep himself hidden? Is he afraid of us? Has he taken a sea voyage? Has he emigrated? - the people cried out laughingly, all in a hubbub.
The insane man jumped into their midst and transfixed them with his glances. "Where is God gone?" he called out. "I mean to tell you! We have killed him, you and I! We are all his murderers! But how have we done it? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the whole horizon? What did we do when we loosened this earth from its sun? Whither does it now move? Whither do we move? Away from all suns? Do we not dash on unceasingly? Backwards, sideways, forwards, in all directions? Is there still an above and below? Do we not stray, as through infinite nothingness? Does not empty space breathe upon us? Has it not become colder? Does not night come on continually, darker and darker? Shall we not have to light lanterns in the morning? Do we not hear the noise of the grave-diggers who are burying God? Do we not smell the divine putrefaction? - for even Gods putrify! God is dead! God remains dead! And we have killed him!
How shall we console ourselves, the most murderous of all murderers? The holiest and the mightiest that the world has hitherto possessed, has bled to death under our knife - who will wipe the blood from us? With what water could we cleanse ourselves? What lustrums, what sacred games shall we have to devise? Is not the magnitude of this deed too great for us? Shall we not ourselves have to become Gods, merely to seem worthy of it? There never was a greater event - and on account of it, all who are born after us belong to a higher history than any history hitherto!" Here the madman was silent and looked again at his hearers; they also were silent and looked at him in surprise.
At last he threw his lantern on the ground, so that it broke in pieces and was extinguished. "I come too early," he then said. "I am not yet at the right time. This prodigious event is still on its way, and is traveling - it has not yet reached men's ears. Lightning and thunder need time, the light of the stars needs time, deeds need time, even after they are done, to be seen and heard. This deed is as yet further from them than the furthest star - and yet they have done it themselves!" It is further stated that the madman made his way into different churches on the same day, and there intoned his Requiem aeternam deo. When led out and called to account, he always gave the reply: "What are these churches now, if they are not the tombs and monuments of God?"
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Member Since: 9/7/2010
Posts: 28,471
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Member Since: 2/9/2012
Posts: 10,283
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Quote:
Originally posted by rbautz
God Is Dead
from Friedrich Nietzsche
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The other I was reading that book (It's called "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"). I wonder which writer she'll quote next 
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Member Since: 8/12/2012
Posts: 13,665
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Quote:
Originally posted by Brite Lites ☆
The other I was reading that book (It's called "Thus Spoke Zarathustra"). I wonder which writer she'll quote next |
She know for sure Nietzsche one of his books is Human, all too Human and the subtitle is A book for Free Spirits (Ein Buch für freie Geister)
The concept of the monologe of the Ride Video
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Member Since: 7/9/2010
Posts: 28,061
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Quote:
Originally posted by rbautz
God Is Dead
from Friedrich Nietzsche
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Nope I dont think so.
Gods and Monsters is not based on Nietzsche per se, that paragraph you posted isnt even what God Is Dead is about. Gods and Monsters is based on Anti-mimesis. Oscar Wilde's The Decay of Lying:
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Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life
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That captures the essence of G&M far more than Nietzsche.
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