Lana Del Rey
Chemtrails Over The Country Club
Interscope/Polydor
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Lana Del Rey. A name that can muster up a conversation that can be as polemic as politics themselves or as peaceful as the melodies that accompany her music. Either way, much is said about the singer, whether good, bad or indifferent.
In the interest of steering away from the obvious narrative that can all too often be associated with certain artists these days, including the default labelling that Del Rey herself has found herself swimming in at various points over the last year, this review’s focus will stay firmly on the music at hand. Del Rey’s latest musical offering—her seventh studio album Chemtrails Over The Country Club—is steeped in a vulnerability and emotional presence that has rarely been heard in much of her previous work.
As the album opens with the breathy ballad “White Dress,” an ode to her days pre-fame and working as a struggling waitress, the tone for the album is set; reflection and a longing to return to simpler days. The fame game, for all its fabulousness and glamour, seems to have run its course with Del Rey. Well, for this album at least.
Less than two years after the GRAMMY nominated Norman Fucking Rockwell! (2019) conquered the music world, Del Rey has further expanded that foray into something she is incredibly good at: songwriting. Straight talk? Del Rey is most definitely one of modern music’s finest songwriters. Coupled with an emotional maturity of someone much older and an ability to lyrically please, she is, quite simply put, brilliant at what she does.
Given this, this album is clearly an emotional one, one that sees the singer explore the notion of running away, leaving it all behind, but also the how and why. Examining themes of loss is something Del Rey has never shied away from in her previous work, but she exudes a heightened empathy in exploring the complexities of loss and love across the expanse of Chemtrails Over The Country Club.
Del Rey has joined creative forces again with Jack Antonoff—who also produced Norman Fucking Rockwell!—and the two have combined to write eight of the eleven tracks on Chemtrails, continuing the nostalgic psych-folk journey that the two created on its precursor. With a total of four singles having been released from the album, this is some of Del Rey’s most intricate and exquisite work.
On “Tulsa Jesus Freak,” Del Rey’s voice is put on full auto-tune, replete with vocal processors in the most glamorous way possible, despite the fact that the song centers around the hypocrisy of sex and religion. As “Dark But Just A Game” suggests, introspection on the dark side of fame consumes the singer, with no better way of articulating this than from personal experience. Del Rey’s music is more layered and complex than that of your average pop artist, with “Dance Till We Die” serving as a prime case-in-point. Praising her musical foremothers such as Stevie Nicks, Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez, Del Rey sings of adoration for the women that have inspired her.
As Del Rey closes the album with a devastatingly beautiful cover of Joni Mitchell’s “For Free” with Zella Day and Weyes Blood, it is apparent that Del Rey apparently can do no wrong. Her artistry is devoid of care regarding what her peers have to say, and her artistry is unashamedly Americana, something she embraces and delivers without fear. She captures a moment and turns it into poetic musicality.
As the singer’s Twitter bio reads, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself; I am large—I contain multitudes.” It is those very contradictions and multitudes that help create and sustain an artist, in fact any artist, and in this case, one of America’s finest.
Notable Tracks: “Dance Till We Die” | “Dark But Just A Game” | “For Free” | “Tulsa Jesus Freak”
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