Lana Del Rey - Norman Fucking Rockwell

Lana Del Rey has finally made the most important album of her career. In a discography that doesn’t really have a blemish, the main issue with Lana has been her reaching a certain point that feels like it could have gone further. She’s maintained this aura about herself. The gangster-Nancy Sinatra image dissipated after Ultraviolence, and with every subsequent release, LDR has improved as a songwriter but not as a personality really. Her album releases have consistently been overshadowed by her drab apathy. 

That all changes in 2019 with Norman Fucking Rockwell. The purpose of Lana’s career and her possible peak is here. After starting with a thud on Born to Die - let’s be honest, it’s her weakest album, and definitely not what anyone was expecting/hoping for after “Video Games” - LDR grew into her own, and after the success of Lust for Life, Lizzy Grant found herself at this crossroads. With the Weinstein travesty dominating headlines in 2017 and 2018, a change in LDR occurred. It wasn’t highly promoted or marketed very well. But with this underbelly finally exposed, her somber attitude started to feel like the embrace we all needed. 

As a songwriter, Del Rey has grown tremendously and maybe it’s just the maturity she’s shown lately as she’s gone from just an image to an icon - a voice of a generation that’s been sitting on the sidelines refusing to pick a side. For too long Del Rey seemed to put her foot in her mouth on feminism, but now with the rise of sexual misconduct running rampant, there was only one place Del Rey could go and that was to the spotlight with her voice. Compared to her previous records, even with Jack Antonoff in tow for producing, Norman Fucking Rockwell feels like a totally new Lana, one everyone was desiring for when “Video Games” set our hearts on fire in 2011. 

“Venice Bitch” is the centerpiece here, and it’s hard to believe that it actually came out in 2018. The near 10-minute opus re-characterizes Del Rey and repositions her as this lost soul so enveloped in romance that the “sad bitch” persona she’s conveyed for so long isn’t really who she is anymore. She has her typical quotables “Fresh out of fucks,” and whatnot, but it’s the bridge of “Venice Bitch” that astounds. It’s swoon-worthy, and unexpected from Del Rey at this point in her career (maybe even ever). The same can be said about “Mariner’s Apartment Complex,” where Del Rey’s hookiest moments soar like a bald eagle - the American-isms she’s employed and dissected over the years feel so natural here and never forced. 

Even the Sublime cover “Doin’ Time” is a welcome perspective on Lana. It’s catchy but never over-produced. It might come off as a less-than-serious note for Del Rey, but in the context of Norman Fucking Rockwell, and the state of the union, it fits perfectly with the abandoned notion of community. This is all stated pretty clearly on the opening title track as Del Rey dismantles the ego of her lover, and even if it’s meant in a more positive light, the war on women has become so disgusting that to hear Lana intricately cut him down but still make him feel special is rewarding right off the bat. 

One thing that hasn’t changed is Lana Del Rey’s vocal range. Over the years its felt more processed at times, but the lo-fi feeling of Norman Fucking Rockwell gives us this raw Lana, and it’s masterful to hear her swing back and forth on “Fuck It I Love You.” Everything about this record works, finally. One of the main issues I’ve found with Lana’s work prior is this notion of how vapid she is, and it’s always shined through on her albums. Even down the album covers, but with Norman Fucking Rockwell, Lana seems entirely estranged from these pigeonholing ideals. “The Next Best American Record” furthers this individual concept that Del Rey’s kept so hidden from us. With a simple guitar strum to highlight her vocals for the intro, it shows how stripped down and raw Del Rey finally is to us: and more importantly, just how real she actually is. 

This, of course, all leads to the most relevant track on Norman Fucking Rockwell: “The Greatest.” Feeling ripped from the 70s, and focusing on the times gone, “The Greatest” is reminiscent of Chan Marshall’s atmospheric Moon Pix - this would make sense since last year Cat Power and Lana collaborated on the former’s first record in six years Wanderer. And maybe that’s the collaboration Del Rey needed to move her from being the fun-loving girl-next-door to being the Venice Bitch we all knew she was since “Video Games.” Norman Fucking Rockwell is a resounding success for Del Rey. It positions her in good company with Antonoff who highlights her strengths but doesn’t shy away from her weaknesses either. After 8 years of records and image re-affirming publicity stunts, Lana Del Rey finally feels like she’s come into her own on Norman Fucking Rockwell; It’s endearing, thoughtful, witty, and poignant. It’s without a doubt Lana Del Rey’s magnum opus.