Interscope
Pop, 2021

Getting cancelled by imbeciles on social media seems to have done a butterfly out of cocoon effect on Lana Del Rey. Her second album of the year, Blue Banisters, is set in the present day with her referencing more contemporary matters such as Black Life Matters and Zoom, but the music has taken a bent from “I want to be Grace Kelly” to the territory formerly ruled by angry, kooky queens such as Tori Amos and Kate Bush. This is, in my opinion, a good kind of evolution, as she has already been so many teenage girls’ vicarious experiences when it comes to everything from sex to drugs.

The title track is easily the result of the mating of the musical sounds of the two aforementioned queens, although there is no mistaking that this is a song by Ms Del Rey through and through. What I’m saying is that the stripped down, acoustic nature of the songs here bring out the clarity of her voice, and for once, without the overly processed studio effects on her voice, some emotions slip through for once. Perhaps the polished façade of the lady, so determined to channel glamour of black and white movie divas and pop tarts of those days long gone, is finally cracking.

For once, I feel some melancholic undertones in songs, like the ridiculously graceful and catchy Arcadia and the moody If You Lie Down with Me, that feel genuine, authentic. Also, these songs see Ms Del Rey actually working those vocal pipes of hers, as if she wanted to demonstrate that she too has a set of pipes that can go above “slurring”.

Speaking of If You Lie Down with Me, it’s the perfect bookend to the trilogy that began with Love and followed by Let Me Love You Like a Woman—listening to all three songs in order is like living vicariously the experience of falling in love in all shades of intoxication and, eventually, toxicity. This song plays on the double meaning of the word “lie”. He lies with her, and he lies to her, and she wants him to do both to her because she wants to hold on to that fraying love a little longer.

Then there is that ballad Beautiful, which, as corny as it sounds, is indeed what I find to be. The lyrics are pretty cringe-inducing, but the melody and the vocals are impeccable. Ditto Violet for Roses, it just sounds so, so good yet so melancholic. Again, the lyrics are awful, but I am sold by the vocals that the emotions are genuine.

Then there is Black Bathing Suit, which is her musical summation of her experiences and feelings at being cancelled at social media for daring to express a thought that stray from the acceptable group think of the hive mind that run amok on those toxic cesspits. It’s brooding, dark, and strident—a shockingly coherent and quietly violent song that has glimmers of the title track of Born to Die here and there, but with enough evolution to become a completely different, more confident anthem. It’s an intriguing parallel to the possible character evolution of that singer known as Lana Del Rey from the Born to Die days to present.

Really, every song here is a musical journey of sorts, and I don’t know whether I’m just caught up by the moment or what, but I feel that there are no clunkers here. Every song feels unique, distinct with its own story to tell, and for once, I find myself not feeling bored and trying to figure out which songs Ms Del Rey had recycled to fill this album.

Hence, I almost feel embarrassed to admit that my favorite song of the lot is Text Book. My embarrassment is due to how the chorus of this song bears a rather disquieting similarity to the chorus of Demi Lovato’s Give Your Heart a Break and, eeuw, Demi Lovato. Loving this song is like loving something that came from Ms Lovato, and that’s a new low to confess in public. However, I love the story of this song the most. There is a vivid, effective, and nostalgic—for folks that live through older days—atmosphere evoked by this song, even as Ms Del Rey, admittedly clumsily, tries to portray taking part in Black Lives Matter protests and other activism of today as a form of rebellion against convention.

I’m sure the people behind those movement may not appreciate being dragged into such things, but folks that have lived long enough surely recall how the defiant activists of during the Vietnam War years eventually settled down to become die-hard capitalistic cogs of the system. Hence, there is some truth to what Ms Del Rey is saying here: most of today’s armchair activism is just kids screaming at clouds, and there is nothing more cringe-inducing than rich white kids wearing masks to join a Black Lives Matter protest, only to throw rocks and more at the cops before fleeing and leaving the actual black people in the protest behind to answer the cops for the actions of these kids. Someone’s genuine activism is always also some dumb rich kid’s way to get back at Mommy and Daddy, but that’s always the case, from the past to today.

This song is more about that, though. As a song about rebellion, it’s also about, oddly enough, falling for a guy that reminds one of one’s father. Only, Ms Del Rey insists that this bloke isn’t just like her father, he’s going to be better than her father, in that this bloke doesn’t have her father’s annoying character flaws and his tendency to impose limitations on her behavior. Oh look, Sigmund Freud has entered the chat.

Also, my embarrassment at liking this song best is because it’s the most regressive of the songs here. This one sounds the most like a generic Lana Del Rey song; the other songs here see Ms Del Rey moving outside her box and flooring me with just how much she shatters my perception of her as an artist. However, this song has the most introspective, coherent story, and hence, it gets under my skin the most.

Nonetheless, I’m not playing favorites much here. Blue Banisters is easily the best Lana Del Rey album I’ve heard to date, and it’s truly an experience to savor. Absolutely exquisite; I can’t recommend it highly enough.