Lana Del Rey’s ‘Ultraviolence’: Track-by-track review

Lana Del Rey is a divisive character. When she burst onto the scene in 2011, people questioned her “authenticity”, her background and even her face – but there’s no denying she made an impact.

Her debut album Born To Die, a gloriously melodic collection of hip-hop beats, lush strings and chic ‘n’ twisted lyrics, managed to sell over seven million copies worldwide. Originally Lana claimed she’d said all she wanted to say, and didn’t really want to be a popstar anyway, but nevertheless, she’s now back with her eagerly-anticipated follow-up.

Largely ditching the beats and strings for guitars, her new album Ultraviolence is sonically different to her debut, but explores similar themes. Produced nearly exclusively by Dan Auerbach from US indie duo The Black Keys, the album isn’t fuzzy or cute. But is it any good?

Here’s a track-by-track exploration into the gloriously dark and glamorous life of Lana Del Rey…

Cruel World

With softly reverbed guitars and heavily reverbed vocals, Cruel World sets the scene for the album – a sinful one of lust, love, despair, dependence, misanthropy, sex and, of course, America. What’s apparent here is that Lana feels at home amidst the loose-fitting production, with her rather powerful vocals playing naughtily on the fringes of wildness as she sings: “Put my little red party dress on / Everybody knows that I’m a mess, I’m crazy / Get a little bit of Bourbon in ‘ya / Get a little bit suburban and go crazy, yeah.” It’s a blissful, raw and hazy introduction to the album, one that lingers long after the track’s crashing finale and diminuendoed ending.

Ultraviolence

Whether it’s about the cult that she apparently joined, or whether she’s lamenting a destructive and abusive relationship, the theme of this song is a difficult one, as Lana references The Crystals’ somewhat controversial 1962 hit He Hit Me (And It Felt Like A Kiss). Here, Lana’s signature strings make a muted return, lurking in the periphery of Dan Auerbach’s leisurely production. It’s creepy, enthralling, distasteful – and just so Lana.

Shades of Cool

On the third track, Lana’s vocals are thrust to the forefront as a cutesy melody is juxtaposed with the dark subject matter of a drug-addled partner. “I can’t fix him, I can’t make him better,” Lana sings. A tumultuous guitar solo brings the reality of the situation alive, and dripped in sadness from start to finish, this track is just glorious.

Brooklyn Baby

It’s often forgotten that Lana Del Rey has a sense of humour – and this side of her shines through on Brooklyn Baby. This track is an obvious two-fingers to the blogs who questioned her “authenticity” when she first emerged back in 2011, featuring obvious hyperbole (“I’m churning out novels like / Beat poetry on Amphetamines”) and an ironic acceptance of her ‘hipster’ tag (“Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool / But he’s not as cool as me”).

West Coast

The lead single from the album, West Coast is a disconcerting mix of changing tempos, Californian decay and old-school glamour. Lana’s vocals blend into the dusty mist of the song’s production, which swirls around with wah-wah’d guitars and train-like drums.

Sad Girl

This adultery anthem straddles its difficult subject matter precariously, as Lana sings: “Being a mistress on the side / It might not appeal to fools like you.” Glorifying the pitfalls of being The Other Woman won’t please the feminist contingent, but Lana doesn’t give a shit – she’s a “bad bitch” and “on fire”.

Pretty When You Cry

Here, Lana’s ill-fated romantic shtick begins to wear a bit thin. The lyrics deal with a drug-addict lover who’s gone AWOL, as Lana laments: “I’ll wait for you, babe, that’s all I do, babe.” It all seems a bit repetitive, and the weak production lacks the subtleties of the previous tracks.

Money, Power, Glory

A sinful sermon to the seductive powers of Lana’s holy trinity: money, power and glory. Surprisingly, this laid-back track is produced by pop hit-maker Greg Kurstin, but it couldn’t be further from his usual bright and breezy work with the likes of Kelly Clarkson and Lily Allen. When Lana calls, “Alleluia! I wanna take them for all that they got!”, it’s almost sacrilegious, and the gist of the song is pretty grisly: dope and diamonds, that’s all Lana wants, man.

Fucked My Way Up To The Top

It might be a diss track about another popstar, but Lana sings it first-person: “I fucked my way up to the top / This is my show.” Production-wise, this track is the closer to the Lana of Born To Die, with light drums pattering in the background. It’s an amusing, very her approach to the old “casting couch” pop culture phenomenon, as she sings: “I’m a dragon, you’re a whore / Don’t even know what you’re good for.” Ouch.

Old Money

Old Money is the Blue Jeans of Ultraviolence. Here, the strings of her previous album make a pronounced return, and her vocals are more prominent than on any of the previous tracks. The lyrics calling her lover to return are haunting, and contain just the right amount Lana’s trademark: sorrowful romantic dependence. It’s a devastatingly sad song of unfulfilled love and broken dreams that holds its own amongst the more heavily-produced fare on the rest of the album.

The Other Woman

Nina Simone is one of Lana’s favourite artists and, rather surprisingly, this cover of one of the jazz legend’s signature songs works very well. However, rather than placing herself as the wronged party, it’s clear that Lana is ‘the other woman’ here, a role she has already played on the album, of course. It’s a fitting end to the standard edition of the album, one that neatly sums up one of Ultraviolence‘s recurring themes.

Overall: 4.5/5

This album won’t be for everyone, but there’s something devastatingly beautiful about it. While Lana’s character – the ill-fated and damaged woman – may become repetitive, there’s no denying she fully embraces the dark and destructive elements of her personality. Likewise, the hazy and loose-fitting production ensures that the album glides elegantly from start to finish, giving it a cohesion that’s often lacking in today’s pop albums.

It might be morally-complicated, emotionally destructive and cripplingly sad, but Ultraviolence is total class.

Listen to the title track, Ultraviolence, below: