So much ink has been spilled about Lana Del Rey—from premature hype to backstory dirt-digging to the inevitable backlash—that the release of her debut album, Born to Die, comes almost as an afterthought to her existence as meme of the year. This situation is further complicated by the reality that Born to Die is neither the “gangster Nancy Sinatra” as promised by her savvy promotion team nor a totally embarrassing “first” effort, but rather an overlong exercise in generic songwriting.
The high points—last year’s slow-burning hit single “Video Games,” the impossibly catchy title track and the charmingly awkward “Off to the Races”—reveal a singer who can capture a mood with both lyrical details and her vocal delivery. But midway through, Born to Die descends into lame attempts at emulating everyone from Lady Gaga to Nicki Minaj to Katy Perry. These tunes are further burdened by underwhelming trip-hop production and far too many clichés involving Del Rey’s bad-girl persona. Though her disastrous Saturday Night Live performance would lead us to believe otherwise, Del Rey’s true talent is her quirky voice: When she trusts her instincts and lets her phrasing run wild, she has the potential to develop one of those genius bad-good voices—something akin to when Nick Cave croons ballads or Kim Gordon sings any Sonic Youth song.
Really, Del Rey needs to sweat a little harder and lose herself a little more in order to make us believe she really wants to own these stylistic choices, not just try them on at her producers’ behest.
Playlist picks: “Video Games,” “Born to Die,” “Blue Jeans”
