Lana Del Rey may, or may not, be a new star
Lana Del Rey
Lana Del Rey
BORN TO DIE
Lana Del Rey is a self-invented instant icon who sings sonic-noir and Cabaret-hip-hop in the unadorned fashion of Marlena Dietrich, Marianne Faithfull, Madonna and Mazzy Starr’s Hope Sandoval.
Following the international success of her single, “Video Games,” and a puzzling pre-album release guest appearance on Saturday Night Live that spawned much anonymous hatred on the Internet, Del Rey’s debut album arrives this week.
Girls who love bad boys run thick through Del Rey’s slow-moving, string orchestra-draped songs. Although the self-destructive tract of her lyrics and their accompanying music grow repetitive, her lushly produced songs have a kind of automobile-accident allure.
In title song “Born to Die,” spaghetti western-style guitar adds subtle seasoning to the already atmospheric string arrangement. “Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry,” Del Rey sings in her understated way. “Let’s go get high, ’cause you and I, we were born to die.”
She celebrates more poisoned bliss in “Video Games” and the hip-hop-flavored “Off to the Races.” “My old man is a bad man but … he loves me with every beat of his cocaine heart.”
Within the cathedral ambiance of “National Anthem,” featuring some of Del Rey’s more girlish vocals, she raps verses and sings choruses like the hip-hoppers do. Alongside Madonna-styled music, the sophomoric, silly love-obsessed lyrics of “Dark Paradise” edge Del Rey into self-parody.
Del Rey’s world-weary performance of “Million Dollar Man” suggests black-and-white visions of smoky ’50s chanteuse Julie London crying a river into her black coffee. “You look like a million-dollar man,” the once again trouble-loving singer complains of her latest flame. “So why is my heart broke?” But Del Rey isn’t in London’s league, at least not yet.
Whether Del Rey — aka Lizzy Grant, the 25-year-old singer-songwriter from Lake Placid, N.Y., who gave herself a name that resonates of old Hollywood — ascends to stardom as Lana Del Rey or not, she possesses something of the kind identified with that rare and profitable commodity, star quality.
John Wirt
Tim McGraw
EMOTIONAL TRAFFIC
Tim McGraw never has lacked ambition, as illustrated by the country star’s film acting and self-named cologne.
That ambition comes across most clearly in his music. On Emotional Traffic, his 11th studio album, McGraw continues to expand country music’s boundaries. That’s why, 20 years into his career, his music still sounds so fresh, even though a legal dispute with label Curb Records delayed the release of these songs, recorded in 2010.
But there’s no dust on these tracks, as McGraw and longtime co-producer Byron Gallimore create a sound marinated in modern rock yet crisp with catchy melodies and real-life, country-music themes.
McGraw’s range shows on the album’s first two hits. “Felt Good On My Lips” — also released against the singer’s wishes as a bonus track on last year’s two-CD Curb compilation “Number One Hits” — is buoyed by an infectious chorus and dynamic musical twists. Meanwhile, the thoughtful ballad “Better Than I Used To Be” finds a man pressing to become more responsible. It starts with quiet piano, and then builds to a crescendo that underscores the emotion of the lyrics.
McGraw’s progressive artistry also comes through on “Only Human,” a duet with sweet-voiced R&B singer Ne-Yo, and the cover of “One Part, Two Part,” originally written by Georgia soul singer Dee Ervin.
Emotional Traffic may contain two-year-old recordings, but for McGraw’s fans, it will shine like tomorrow’s sunrise.
Michael McCall, The Associated Press