Let me preface this review by noting the grudge I hold against Lana Del Ray for shaming SNL with the most breathy, awkward, wince–inducing performance I’ve seen since passing an asthmatic homeless woman choking out “At Last” in a New York subway station. That said, Born To Die isn’t as horrible as I wanted it to be. Sure, Del Rey’s roofied Marilyn Monroe vocals aren’t everybody’s cup of tea, but you gotta admit, she creates a convincing world. Full of unrequited love and lofty, if sometimes uncanny, orchestration, Born To Die’s universe is an enthralling one. No one will ever agree on the “gangsta Nancy Sinatra,” but it looks like she’s here to stay. Now someone teach that girl to lip sync.
Album Review: Born To Die
