The verdict at the end of the show was clear: my two friends had hated her shaky performances, while I noted that I loved her look (floor-length cream-colored dress and long red hair) and the throwback but intriguing style of her music. I would keep her in mind as one to watch for, though that turned out to be unnecessary.
The next day media buzzed with the news that venerable NBC news host Brian Williams (since defrocked for violating his industry's code of ethics) had publicly called del Rey out in a tweet as being the worst performer in SNL history. The bandwagon was swiftly weighted down with concurring opinions: she was emotionless, out of tune, and didn't even have a proper album out; her lips were probably fake, her sentiments Victorian, and Lana del Rey wasn't even her name but a stage name. Who was this woman and how dare she? How dare she?
Her official debut album, Born to Die, was released in January of 2012. The music critics were ready for it. Pitchfork called it "limp and pointless." Rolling Stone felt it "dull, dreary and pop-starved" and gave it two stars. AV Club said "shallow and overwrought." Consequence of Sound gave it a D. Spin pointed out its objective ridiculousness a dozen times and quoted actual lyrics that were objectively ridiculous - for example, "let's take Jesus off the dashboard/got enough on his mind." Additionally, the Spin review starts out by addressing the common knowledge that multiple musical acts throughout history have taken stage names, getting it out of the way in a "yeah yeah" style in order to say so what? Your girl's still shit.
Apprehensively I listened to the previews of the album on iTunes, then pretty much just bought it. And listened to it again and again and again and again. Now, I'm definitely what one might called a "late adopter" or "early deserter," and I enjoy not thinking along the same lines as everyone else. But I wasn't listening to LDR to prove a point. I was listening because it was damn good.
If you read the reviews by average people of BTD on Amazon, the sentiment is completely reversed from what industry critics shared. Instead of getting the feeling you're watching someone actively being thrown under a full-speed city bus, you read of the beauty of the songs and her gorgeous lower register, the subversiveness of her lyrics, the smart marriage of mid-century pop stylings with of-the-moment beats and production.
I'm not writing this to try and convince you that professional music critics are hacks, that you shouldn't enjoy music journalism, that music appreciation isn't ultimately subjective.
No, I'm writing this to put on the record that Elizabeth Grant suffered a coordinated assassination attempt by every publication with a web address, that the reviews were a goddamn Greek chorus of the same illogical complaints and character attacks, that whatever objective quality her music displayed was absolutely ignored and then completely lied about over and over and over again. I'm writing to remind you, in case in the ensuing years you've forgotten, that a young woman with little name recognition and no famous supporters somehow made it through the sustained, concerted effort to reduce her to ash, to leave any trace of her credibility in absolute tatters, done so smugly and glibly that there shouldn't have been any energy or courage left in any of us plebeians to withstand the industry's resounding NO.
I also write this on the eve of the 2020 Grammys, for which del Rey is nominated for Album of the Year for her sixth album, Norman Fucking Rockwell.
Lana del Rey is, in my opinion, the artist of the decade. She has been totally unique throughout the 2010s, to the point where no one has ever dared mimic her. She has stayed consistent, both in her musical style and personal style, through the very same years we saw total transformations from the likes of Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. She is exceedingly prolific - again, NFR is her sixth album release in eight years. (I include the EP Paradise as a proper album; it's got nine freaking songs). And, like all great heroes of myth and legend, she endured tragic beginnings, stayed the course, and has won the war against her - not because the industry quickly heeled, because they did not. But because she was true to herself, she allowed her massive creativity to continue to flow, and she earned fans who have defended her from the beginning and likely will until the end.
I don't want to write a super-long post and take you through the triumphs of each of her albums; you can listen for yourself. What I want to note in particular, though, is this: because she is so consistent, there are plenty of moments on Born to Die, and Paradise, and Ultraviolence, and Honeymoon, and Lust for Life, that would fit seamlessly in NFR. I want to stress that the same things she did to earn an Album of the Year nomination in 2019 were present from the beginning. Lana del Rey has not changed. The world was simply forced to finally shut the fuck up and listen.
If you enjoy NFR, it would be impossible for you to find any fault with songs like "Radio," "Body Electric," "Black Beauty," "Terrence Loves You," or "White Mustang." Or songs like "Blue Jeans," "American," "Money Power Glory," "Art Deco," "or Change." You see, I'm just running through her discography and picking a song off of each album. I could do this all night.
So what is it that the critics find suddenly so worthy this time around? Here is another sampling of reviews, this time for NFR: Pitchfork called it "elegant and complex." Rolling Stone felt it "massive and majestic." AV Club said the album-ending song was "stunningly personal." Consequence of Sound gave it an A-. Spin actually says in the title of its gushing, philosophical review that NFR - and thus, LDR - "Isn't Afraid to Go Where Other Pop Stars Won't." But that's funny 'cause like, when she did that in 2012, it was bad and wrong.
And remember how taking Jesus off the dashboard was completely uninspired drivel? The Pitchfork critic in the review linked to above, swan-dived deep into the fandom by declaring del Rey the next best American songwriter, "period."
Wait, does this mean that del Rey learned from her early mistakes, her naivete, her gumption? Does it mean that she spent the decade taking a humble step back, being mentored by the greats, taking nighttime poetry courses, etc. etc. and now Norman Fucking Rockwell is the butterfly finally emerged? Fuck no. Like I've been saying the entire time, del Rey is nothing if not consistent. Neither she, nor her vision, nor her style, have changed. And if I played a game where you had to decide which lyrics were from BTD and which were from NFR, you would lose spectacularly.
In the same way that apparently everyone in the music industry gathered around a pitch black table in the dungeon of some secret mansion and solemnly swore to tear her to pieces for deigning to release BTD, I'm assuming they all gathered again last year and decided that it was up to them to redeem her, to give her the accolades she deserves, but knowing that an Album of the Year nomination wouldn't be possible without ridiculously glowing reviews by the exact same publications who tried to murder her with their preschool-level pettiness.
But to her millions of fans, they just look fucking ridiculous. Lana del Rey, who honestly seems at first glance fragile enough to fall over in the wind, was stronger than all of their hate. I don't know how she did it - huge personal support network I'm guessing? - but I know I would have crumpled to dust. The world out there, doesn't deserve her. The real fans, however, do, and that is who she keeps making music for (I tell myself, indulgently). We stan because there's every fucking reason to stan.
For the record, I don't think she'll actually win. I think this is just ceremonial. Someone hopefully also deserving like Bon Iver will. And honestly, we never needed her to be nominated. Maybe just respected. Truly, in the Me Too era, the treatment of del Rey nine years ago looks very, very bad. Let that be a lesson that there's no such thing as being "on the right side of history."
And to all you losers who tried to end my girl: I will never forget what you did.
