I reviewed Ultraviolence for a school publication today. Twas actually kind of fun. I didn't even score it that badly although I did enjoy making digs at her. Who doesn't?
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When she meandered soulfully on to the blogosphere in late 2011, a mini Tumblr-fueled revolution began: Lizzy Grant, a.k.a. Lana Del Rey, caught and captivated with her hopelessly soulful (and a dash of hip-hop) debut, ‘Born to Die’. After rumors of leaving music following her debut and a strange rumor chain of the singer’s infatuation with being dead, ‘Ultraviolence’, a title that passes a nod to novel ‘A Clockwork Orange’, finally landed in June, much to the satisfaction of all Del Rey’s low-key listeners and high profile die-hards. Any face familiar with Lana Del Rey may be able to speak on her ridiculous nature: the old school man-to-woman devotion, the hazy vocal runs and the dangerous aura that, well, not many can truly relate to. Following a moderate hit from the Great Gatsby soundtrack with ‘Young & Beautiful’ and a smash hit remix to the tune ‘Summertime Sadness’, the direction for Lana seemed up in the air. She has become quite a figure that goes unmatched in the industry, and going into her sophomore effort this could have worked for or against her. In the end, a bit of both materialized.
The album begins the 70s-driven ‘Cruel World’, an effort which comes off as mild and unsurprising, featuring recycled Lana-isms such as “he likes to party” and “with my little red party dress on”. Still, her charm radiates in a new way, with more poise and an enhanced aesthetic via instrumentation and a new context. This charm goes especially noticed as the album progresses: highlights ‘Shades of Cool’, ‘Ultraviolence’ and ‘Brooklyn Baby’ all unfold gracefully and seem to be miraculously up-to-par (even the latter – being from Brooklyn is not required to howl along to the deliciously catchy one-liners). Stand-out single ‘Shades of Cool’ serves as a slow-strumming masterpiece that certainly seems as it could’ve been a classic hit about 50 years prior. It’s here that the growth from her debut seems most prevalent: the usual faded and wandering vocals now matched with Patrick Carney’s effective production certainly prove to be a catastrophically glorious blend. After the time signature-bending ‘West Coast’, the album strangely loses traction at centerpieces ‘Sad Girl’ and ‘Pretty When You Cry’, both with stunning melodies perfectly fitted (maybe too fitted) for a Lana Del Rey album. The album hits a wall with messy diss-track ‘****ed My Way to the Top’ with the forcefully ironic ‘Money, Power, Glory’, both harsh reminders of the overwhelming campiness of Lana Del Rey’s empire. Both songs are slap-in-the-face moments where straying off the beaten path can go seriously wrong for Del Rey. Luckily, the songs slide perfectly in alongside the album’s sound and feel, avoiding wasteful dud status. The first half trumps the second half in the case of Ultraviolence. Had the album chugged elegantly the whole way through, a real classic could have been at hand.
Lana Del Rey rose from the dead this June and forked over something of an excellent record. Certainly, she has found her lane and only looks to be continually building new bridges and, without hesitation, driving across them top-down with darker hair and a red lipstick-stained cigarette. Many artists only see one album like Ultraviolence in their career, a true body of work with plenty of high points. Miss Grant may very well have landed herself a magnum opus – at the very least, she crafted a gem of hope into her slightly jokey artistry. For an artist that didn’t seem like she could top herself, she dodged the bullet (unfortunately for her, if the death fascination rumors are true) and unraveled a pigeonholed persona to deliver a clever, well-designed palace of alternative sound only she can call her own.
Even Crazy Kids f/will.i.retire didn't fizzle as hard.
Doing thaaaaa most.
