14 Songs, 1 Hour 7 Minutes

EDITORS’ NOTES

Part of the fun of listening to Lana Del Rey’s ethereal lullabies is the sly sense of humour that brings them back down to earth. Tucked inside her dreamscapes about Hollywood and the Hamptons are reminders—and celebrations—of just how empty these places can be. Here, on her sixth album, she fixes her gaze on another place primed for exploration: the art world. Winking and vivid, Norman F*****g Rockwell! is a conceptual riff on the rules that govern integrity and authenticity from an artist who has made a career out of breaking them.

In a 2018 interview with Apple Music's Zane Lowe, Del Rey said working with songwriter Jack Antonoff (who produced the album along with Rick Nowels and Andrew Watt) put her in a lighter mood: “He was so funny,” she said. Their partnership—as seen on the title track, a study of inflated egos—allowed her to take her subjects less seriously. "It's about this guy who is such a genius artist, but he thinks he’s the s**t and he knows it,” she said. "So often I end up with these creative types. They just go on and on about themselves and I'm like, 'Yeah, yeah.' But there’s merit to it also—they are so good.”

This paradox becomes a theme on Rockwell, a canvas upon which she paints with sincerity and satire and challenges you to spot the difference. (On “The Next Best American Record”, she sings, “We were so obsessed with writing the next best American record/’Cause we were just that good/It was just that good.”) Whether she’s wistfully nostalgic or jaded and detached is up for interpretation—really, everything is. The album’s finale, “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - but I have it”, is packaged like a confessional—first-person, reflective, sung over simple piano chords—but it’s also flamboyantly cinematic, interweaving references to Sylvia Plath and Slim Aarons with anecdotes from Del Rey's own life to make us question, again, what's real. When she repeats the phrase “a woman like me”, it feels like a taunt; she’s spent the last decade mixing personas—outcast and pop idol, debutante and witch, pin-up girl and poet, sinner and saint—ostensibly in an effort to render them all moot. Here, she suggests something even bolder: that the only thing more dangerous than a complicated woman is one who refuses to give up.

Parental Advisory Explicit Content Apple Digital Master

EDITORS’ NOTES

Part of the fun of listening to Lana Del Rey’s ethereal lullabies is the sly sense of humour that brings them back down to earth. Tucked inside her dreamscapes about Hollywood and the Hamptons are reminders—and celebrations—of just how empty these places can be. Here, on her sixth album, she fixes her gaze on another place primed for exploration: the art world. Winking and vivid, Norman F*****g Rockwell! is a conceptual riff on the rules that govern integrity and authenticity from an artist who has made a career out of breaking them.

In a 2018 interview with Apple Music's Zane Lowe, Del Rey said working with songwriter Jack Antonoff (who produced the album along with Rick Nowels and Andrew Watt) put her in a lighter mood: “He was so funny,” she said. Their partnership—as seen on the title track, a study of inflated egos—allowed her to take her subjects less seriously. "It's about this guy who is such a genius artist, but he thinks he’s the s**t and he knows it,” she said. "So often I end up with these creative types. They just go on and on about themselves and I'm like, 'Yeah, yeah.' But there’s merit to it also—they are so good.”

This paradox becomes a theme on Rockwell, a canvas upon which she paints with sincerity and satire and challenges you to spot the difference. (On “The Next Best American Record”, she sings, “We were so obsessed with writing the next best American record/’Cause we were just that good/It was just that good.”) Whether she’s wistfully nostalgic or jaded and detached is up for interpretation—really, everything is. The album’s finale, “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - but I have it”, is packaged like a confessional—first-person, reflective, sung over simple piano chords—but it’s also flamboyantly cinematic, interweaving references to Sylvia Plath and Slim Aarons with anecdotes from Del Rey's own life to make us question, again, what's real. When she repeats the phrase “a woman like me”, it feels like a taunt; she’s spent the last decade mixing personas—outcast and pop idol, debutante and witch, pin-up girl and poet, sinner and saint—ostensibly in an effort to render them all moot. Here, she suggests something even bolder: that the only thing more dangerous than a complicated woman is one who refuses to give up.

Parental Advisory Explicit Content Mastered for iTunes
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Ratings and Reviews

4.8 out of 5
82 Ratings

82 Ratings

Pejix Music Review ,

Another brilliant offering

Music fans in Australia are generally very good in spotting brilliant original acts....(from ABBA to Pink).....there is therefore a very good reason why Lana Del Rey always score No 1 Albums in Australian Music Charts....becasue she is brilliant & her style is unique.
Her latest offering does not disappoint......this is as good as any of her other 5 albums & deserves to do well in charts across the world

Oldmacs ,

Amazing album

Lana has really outdone herself this time - it’s an amazing amazing album. Venice B**** is psychedelic and perfect for an end of summer drive. The Greatest is a brilliantly crafted look at current times we live in. Hope is a dangerous thing is deep, meaningful and soulful.

murder2themind ,

Queen has SNAPPED

Lana Del Goddess has SNAPPED. As obvious on here, she’s a grown up woman whose thoughts are no longer dark as it used to be. It’s now in a state of mind where she’s creative, immaculate, haunting and spiritual in this type of feel that can make your wig fly to Saturn. Be prepared fans, Lana is about to take your wig again while you’re dancing hardcore to “Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me”

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