Lying to herself 'cause her liquor's top shelf

I used to hate Lana Del Rey. Hated. Face creeped me out. Music was boring. I couldn't stand the story of her rise to fame. It was all so constructed, such slap in the face to authentic music.

But then I couldn't stop listening to Video Games. It haunted me. Then I got the album and couldn't stop listening to that, either. And the more I look at her the more I want to be her.

I read an interview with her in the October issue of Vogue Australia and I can't help but find her incredibly engaging. Talking about film music, Nabokov and her wild past, I can't decide if Lana Del Rey is a construct or if this woman is a genuine artist. But I do know I want her style.

I've been watching her videos on Youtube this morning and I came across one that hit me like a tonne of bricks. They're all amazing, even her supposedly home-made ones, but one felt like an emotional punch to the guts.

It's this one:



Summertime Sadness is so beautiful and affecting and so reminiscent of Sofia Coppola's The Virgin Suicides. I'm not sure why this one is my favourite, and I don't know why it upset me so, but I love it.

And now I love Lana Del Fucking Rey.