Born to Die: Paradise Edition
Lana Del Rey
Interscope
With Lana Del Rey’s studio album, the songstress takes her music to the next level — as if her debut album, Born To Die, wasn’t already something to die for.
Although the Bible probably isn’t the first thing that jumped to your mind by reading the album title, there certainly is a lot more mention about beliefs this time around.
The rest, however, is sadly the same: motorcycles, drugs, diamonds, and the list could go on.
Regardless, Paradise Edition is a decadent record, emphasizing Del Rey’s talent. She proves that losing paradise is good — since, as it turns out, the party is much better here on Earth.
The idea was quality over quantity, as six tracks excel out of eight. The album’s opening song, “Ride,” was the first single of the album, with a very artistic music video.
It explores the depths and highs of Del Rey’s unique voice spiked occasionally with some unexpected beats.
The song might sound a bit off at first. It serves well, however, as a preparation for the melancholic tunes that await the listener.
Her second single is an H&M commercial soundtrack, a 1950s song titled “Blue Velvet,” which she covers surprisingly well.
The song suits her image and voice perfectly, singing the word “velvet” in such manner that fills you with lust and makes you innocent at the same time.
As for her religious references, in “Gods and Monsters,” she admits, “Me and God we don’t get along” while adding innocence, sex, and angels to the topic. Nothing new there, but by the sixth track you’re getting the Paradise Lost concept.
In American she’s praying, although she admits, “I don’t even know what I’m saying.” Well, perhaps she should know by now, as Born To Die was criticized for being about women running after men and being shallow and materialistic. This, apparently, didn’t change, as she sings in “Yayo,” “Fifty baby doll dresses for my ‘I do,’” and says something of this sort in almost every other song.
Her upcoming single, “Cola,” is worth paying attention to, with its soon-to-be iconic line “My pussy tastes like Pepsi-Cola, my eyes are wide like cherry pie.” Once again, diamonds and sex — with occasional high soprano screams of orgasm. But Del Rey can pull anything off, and your ears like what they’re hearing.
As for the two weaker songs, they only seem weak because the rest is really good. “Bel Air” is overdone, lacks real spirit and successfully makes Del Rey’s voice seem annoying, which is an achievement — in the bad way. In “Body Electric,” the intention was good, but something went really wrong.
Overall, an excellent record, in which the highs and lows are familiar, but taken to the next level. An invitation to celebrate the loss of paradise and the joys of the lust-filled undergrounds of earth.
However, the time comes when everyone must wake up from their dreams, and Lana Del Rey is no exception to that. When that happens, the world will be asking her: what about the American reality, babydoll? Now, that will be an album worth waiting for.
