“Self-styled ‘gangster Nancy Sinatra’” is the phrase you read in most interviews with it-girl Lana Del Ray. Self-styled seems a little forgiving if coverage around the 25 year-old singer is to be believed.
But what makes LDR so divisive? In spite of all the negative press around her, debut album Born To Die has sold shedloads, becoming the first ever album to sell over 50,000 UK download copies in a week.
Persona should not be problem for pop. After all Bowie, Madonna and Beyonce have all dabbled in reinvention (some more than others), and we love them for it. But don’t be fooled. LDR is not the output of an artist using an alter ego to express herself creatively. It is a persona created to satisfy market demands.
Every appearance and every interview-answer seemingly carefully structured to craft a personality to fill the void. If Del Ray dreams, she dreams in grey… she was a teen drinker, and she did charity work, and taught herself to play guitar and struggled as an artist in the big city, and she still lives on her ex-boyfriend’s couch; paint by numbers stuff to add a bit of colour.
But Del Rey’d come a long way. After signing to Polydor, all trace (aside from a few YouTube videos) of Lizzy Grant disappeared. Lizzy couldn’t sell a dollar for 50 cents, but Lana was a different product. Q named Del Ray the most promising artist of 2012, Pitchfork became the official champion for ‘Videogames,’ and NME provided the now tediously inevitable tabloid gossip.
But just six months later and Born to Die has been panned, and by some of the very people whose incessant LDR coverage put her on the public radar to begin with.
We can be forgiven for thinking LDR was so much more. In our disposable culture, with our fame in a fortnight mantra we have neglected the time needed for artists to develop. The short-term shelf-life of the recording artist and the consumer-need for wanting fully formed pop acts straight from the first release puts a huge amount of pressure on new acts, and a whirlwind of hype and buzz around the few with potential.
Born To Die was pushed for so vehemently that LDR reportedly only handed in the completed product a week before its release. The final product could have been 8 or 9 finely polished songs, but instead Born To Die delivers in disappointment with 12 tracks all lyrically patchy. In the end, nothing comes close to ‘Videogames.’
Until the consumer, reviewers and bloggers learn to accept that artists need time to grow and find their own sound, we’ll stay stuck in this love/hate cycle of manufactured pop.
In the meantime, the follow-up to Born To Die, if it happens, won’t garner the same anticipation or hype. She isn’t the first casualty of pop, but maybe Lana Del Rey was just born to die?
Jim Campbell






