Lana Del Rey is back with her seventh studio release, âBlue Banistersâ, tomorrow – and off social media indefinitely. A full decade after she blew up with her viral hit Video Games, itâs worth asking; can an artistic persona pull through the social media age, or is it meant to be destroyed by parasocial relationships (and rivalries) we form with the people behind them?
When I first heard the opening lines of Lana Del Reyâs 2019 record âNorman Fucking Rockwell!â, I was perplexed. God-damn man child, the Manhattan singer croons. You fucked me so good that I almost said, I love you. Wasnât this self-assured narrator just singing about how he hit me and it felt like a kiss?
Around the time âNFRâ, as itâs known, came out, Duncan Cooper of Vice boldly claimed that if it wasnât for Lana Del Rey, there would be no Billie Eilish or Lorde. Many found Cooper’s article to be strangely venomous towards a certain Taylor Swift, but Lanaâs admirersâ aggressive defensiveness may come from a place of near-trauma. That trauma was the early 2010s, and the way social media viciously tore into the decade’s first musical star – Lana Del Rey. Last year, Elizabeth Grant (Lana Del Rey’s given name) defended herself against a slew of critics that now adored her – in a puzzling, potentially career-finishing statement.
Long gone are the days of the mid-century nymphet singing about riches and fame; in 2020, the woman known as Lana Del Rey concluded her transformation into a real-life person, who makes music about the uncomplicated life of a waitress handling the heat. Itâs as if, when she sang in âNFRâs The Greatest, back in 2019, the culture is lit and I had a ball, I guess Iâm signing off after all, she really was.
Go play your video games: an (internet) star is born – and killed
Recently, in an act of revisionist history, Pitchfork rescored some of their past album reviews. Among them was Del Reyâs debut, 2012âs âBorn To Dieâ, bumped from a 5.5. to a 7.8. Now that the singer has clawed her way into industry acceptance, itâs easy to forget that Pitchforkâs middling review was not an anomaly at the time; in fact, they were far kinder than others. Evan Rytlewski of the A.V. Club, for example, called âBorn To Dieâ shallow and overwrought, with periodic echoes of Ke$ha’s Valley Girl aloofness. Oof.
But, for better or worse, she was a trailblazer. When Cooper pinpointed Lana Del Rey as the predecessor of Lorde and others, he didnât just mean as the first internet sad girl (something which YouTuber bambasalad broke down perfectly). Lana may have been the first pop artist to do what is now a weekly occurrence: to blow up solely on the back of online hype. That’s exactly the reason why Paul Harris of the Guardian was quick to call her an example of modern fame.
In October 2011, a video spread like a wildfire in the multimedia sharing platform Tumblr; it was simply titled Lana Del Rey – Video Games. The song was lush, grandiose, profoundly romantic; the video, an apparently homemade collage of old Hollywood fixtures, grainy home movies, and Lana herself. The next twelve months would be a whirlwind for Elizabeth Grant, the quiet singer who had been trying to make it for years – now Lana Del Rey.
A few months later, Lana Del Rey dropped her second music video, Blue Jeans. Her few live shows sold out. She was nominated for and won awards. Normally, this would signal a clear upward trajectory; but, as fast as she rocketed towards cultural adoration, she imploded on the very same place it had started – online.
The smoke started rising as the internet caught wind of Elizabeth Grantâs origins. An inspiring rags-to-riches story? Turns out sheâs a millionaireâs daughter. A DIY music video and song? Apparently, sheâs backed by Interscope, a major label. Even the reveal that her obviously fake stage name had been picked by her management read as betrayal.
But the true fire starter was an appalling Saturday Night Live performance in January of the following year, which was trashed by everyone from anonymous bloggers to NBC News anchor Brian Williams (who called it one of the worst outings in the showâs history). At the time, the singer lamented to Rolling Stone: thereâs a backlash to everything I do. True, that. By the time âBorn To Dieâ came out, two weeks later, the public was already cold.
The culture is lit and I had a ball: from redemption arc to cancelation
How did Lana Del Rey survive such a disastrous start of her career, fuelled by one of the most ferocious (and, as many have pointed out, misogynistic) character assassinations in recent memory?
According to Reddit user gabachoelotero, it happened through sheer grit and fan adoration. These were crucial not just for Lana Del Reyâs progress, but for her triumph. Lana kept on releasing music, all the while continuing to hone her glamorous persona through sound, aesthetics, and fashion.
As Lana carried on the fantasy – draping herself in the American flag, double-cosplaying as Jackie and Marilyn, and playing the troubled nymphet – it continued attracting controversy. One of her critics was Lorde herself, who said the gloomy singerâs world was unhealthy for young girls. In a culture that increasingly pushed for self-awareness, Lanaâs out-of-touch dreamscape made many uneasy.
Still, her fan base grew, steady and ferocious, until, in 2019, she got her due. âNFRâ was a certified critical darling. It nabbed the singer two Grammy nominations; Pitchfork called her one of Americaâs greatest living songwriters. But, with Lana Del Rey, there is always a twist.
The day is May 21st, 2020. Lana Del Rey takes to Instagram with a question for the cultureâŚ. In her text post, which garnered over 1.6 million likes in a day, she says she is disgruntled with how her music is being treated by the critics, in comparison to other female artists. She protests about how other singers found success with songs about being sexy, wearing no clothes, cheating – while she has faced backlash for singing about sometimes submissive or passive roles in relationships. Many noticed that the other artists she compared herself to favorably – Doja Cat, Camila Cabello, Beyonce, and others – were almost all women of color. It was – as Twitter put it relentlessly – a bad look.
To make it worse, Elizabeth Grant proved she had no awareness whatsoever of how the cancel culture machine operates, and later committed the cardinal sin; defending herself. Donât ever, ever, ever, ever call me racist, because that is bullshit, she cried.
It was bad, really bad. Even I could tell her career was over.
Question for the culture: are we done with artistic personas?
Looking back at Lana Del Reyâs trajectory, itâs safe to say playing the part got to her – and to us. But she hasnât quit; since her infamous outburst, sheâs released a poetry book and an album – âChemtrails Over the Country Clubâ, which garnered positive reviews. Now, sheâs back with âBlue Banistersâ. The albumâs first single, Arcadia, sees her tally the usual; cars, hotels, heartache, and, of course, America – a word she has alluded to so often it no longer resembles anything real.
But there is something truthful here, as was on her last outing. In Arcadia, Lana Del Rey may still be singing her brand; but now sheâs on the outside looking in. She no longer sounds cool and detached – on her chorus, her voice quivers. When she promoted the song on Instagram, she said; âlisten to it if you listened to video gamesâ. Then, she dipped.
Only Lana Del Rey herself can say until when she intends to chase her fictional muse; her new, unpolished sound makes it seem like sheâs retired it for a new, permanently offline one. Maybe the only way to have an artistic persona nowadays is to disengage completely, or else your social media presence will find a way to break the veneer.
Revisiting Lana Del Reyâs magnum opus, Video Games, a decade later, I find it has now the same quality of a precious antique. Itâs the product of a time where the internet was radically different, as was our relationship to the artists we listened to.
In 2011, all I knew about Lana Del Rey was what she told me; that she was an elusive âvamp of constant sorrowâ, as Brian Hiatt of Rolling Stone once profiled her. Hell, she might have not been a real person, for all I know – with no real intent, thoughts, politics. Now I know far, far too much.