I have had a complicated relationship with Lana Del Rey. My first taste of her work was in late 2011 when “Diet Mountain Dew” was teased before the release of her debut smash, Born to Die. I loved her old Hollywood/femme fatale aesthetic against the pop, hip-hop, and alternative music mix. Lana hit a career peak with the lush, critically acclaimed album Norman Fucking Rockwell in 2019. However, her abrasive rebuttal to some negative critics of this record, some bizarre mask etiquette during the pandemic, and her tone-deaf social media essay ““Question of the culture” all gave off an air of self-importance that left a bitter taste in my mouth.
This schism in public perception has been something she has struggled with since her debut. With her latest album, Did you know there is a tunnel under Ocean Blvd., she addresses her thoughts on the matter and discusses her battles with mental health, death, salvation, and family. The album has a sense of hope and optimism in even its darkest moments. Her vocal and lyrical growth is beautifully displayed on the hour and 18-minute record. Producer Jack Antonoff had the following to say in his Rolling Stone interview about Lana at this point in her career:
”Lana is boundaryless… She’s reached a point in her work, which is really my favourite place to work from, where there’s nowhere to go but way out into the fucking wilderness artistically. Go chase radio? That’d be so stupid. Go chase trends? So stupid. She created all the trends. It’s a freeing place, if you can accept it. The only place to go is to be a leader. So, she sauntered ahead with the bird on her shoulder to create what was, according to her, the easiest album she’s ever made.”
I wanted to divide up my review based on central themes on the record: family, relationships, self-reflection, and miscellaneous topics.
Family
You get a touching perspective on moments she will take into the afterlife on the opener, “The Grants.” The title is a nod to all the moments with her family that have left a spiritual imprint on her. The gospel-inspired start of the song, performed by Melodye Perry, Pattie Howard, and Shikena Jones, bolsters her underlying awakening around her priorities. The warmth that the mix of strings, piano, and backing vocals takes Lana into much brighter territory.
She uses the metaphor of taking beauty from the healed cracks in your armor wonderfully on “Kintsugi.” The reference to this Japanese pottery repair finds strength and hope that time will gild these emotional wounds brought about by loss. Lana pours out how distraught she had been over several deaths in the family in a short time, “Chucky was there for three out of three/ I was there for the third ’cause I couldn’t be/ There for the one who was closest to me/ But I can’t say I run when things get hard/ It’s just that I don’t trust myself with my heart.” This is yet another song that gripped me lyrically and sonically.
Her most transparent moments around her mental health come in on “Fingertips.” She told Rolling Stone the following about her thoughts around the track:
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“‘Fingertips’ is not a good song or a big song but it definitely explains everything. I felt like that was important because everyone was always like [whispers] explain yourself. And I was like, ‘Okay, let me do this really quickly, I’ll tell you everything I’m thinking in two minutes in a seven minute song and just rip through it and edit it.’ That song kind of says it all. Between that song and ‘Wildflower Wildfire’ on ‘Blue Banisters’, you can get a lot [whispers and laughs] of everything.”
The knots of confusion, questioning, and hopelessness shed a new light on her struggles. The most telling of these moments is her fitness to be a mother, “Caroline, will you be with me?/ Will the baby be alright?/ Will I have one of mine?/ Can I handle it even if I do?/ It’s said that my mind/ Is not fit, or so they said, to carry a child/ I guess I’ll be fine.” She also discusses her struggles with suicide in the past. I felt very moved by this song on a personal level.
Relationships
The title track, “Did you know there is a tunnel under Ocean Blvd,” is a plea for self-confidence. This really comes through in the line, “love me until I love myself.” This metaphor around the spectacularly crafted tunnel under Ocean Blvd. in Long Beach, California, plays strongly towards this wish to pull an internal beauty outwards. I love how grand and vast the song gets through its strings swelling. I also applaud Lana’s vulnerability she puts forth here.
There is a purity around this affection Lana puts forward on “Sweet” that really grabbed me. The cottony softness of the piano and string melody matches this. You get a sense of old Hollywood here, but more around the notion of that genuine feeling you have with first love. Lana sells this through her longing to spend time with this man, “I’ve got things to do, like nothing at all/ I wanna do them with you/ Do you wanna do them with me?” It has a lovely mix of sass and coyness that makes the song special.
Lana brings in Americana artist and Grammy winner Jon Batiste on “Candy Necklace.” She continues the threads of depression that provide this relationship with its ache. While the attention gives her the momentary high that a candy necklace would, she quickly descends back into that darkness from the rest of his actions. Jon’s backing helps to bring out the drama of this song. Again, I like the richness of the live strings and piano.
The second interlude, “Jon Batiste Interlude,” has a much more candid beauty. The bright piano melody underlining this track gives these spoken and sung moments much more weight. Jon’s spoken words against Lana’s sung lines toe the line between comparing a relationship to something holy and a spiritual awakening. Again, I think these moments could be cut down, but I prefer this track over the first intermission.
I love the sonic textures on “Let The Light In,” featuring Father John Misty. It’s the first time on the album we get acoustic guitar and organ that takes us into a more 70s folk-pop sound. Her hope of letting light in sees Lana desperately wanting to return to the honeymoon period of this relationship. I love how Father John Misty and Lana play off each other.
“Margaret” bring in long-time collaborator and friend Jack Antonoff (under the moniker The Bleacher). I can hear a little bit of Taylor Swift in Lana’s diction. It’s a playful look at the love Jack has for his fiancé and something I am not used to from Lana. The more synthetic strings on this song bring me back to Norman Fucking Rockwell’s sound. I like how knowing the right time continues from the last track, “Paris, Texas.”
A sonic change by “Fishtail” brings us back to the hip-hop-inspired textures of Lana’s debut, Born to Die. Lana calls out her lover for his coldness and uses the metaphor of braiding her hair to show she doesn’t want affection if she can’t have companionship. She calls out her ignorance of their incompatibility, “I know that we’ve got problems/ I plan to address them another day/ Palm trees in black and white/ I see in technicolor/ Maybe I’ll take my glasses off so I stop painting red flags green.”
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“Peppers” continues the Born to Die sound with its hook sample from Tommy Genesis’s “Angelina.” The mix of psychedelic rock and hip-hop sounds she incorporates add a rich texture. She flips the sentiment of wanting to swim in his mind to him. The dangerous sexuality that Lana has often expressed comes forth here. She doesn’t care what happens to herself as she’s blinded by love, “I sit, upskirt, I don’t have much to lose/ I got a truck, I take it for a midnight, a midnight drive, yeah/ My boyfriend tested positive for COVID, it don’t matter/ We’ve been kissing, so whatever he has, I have, I can’t cry.”
Self-Reflection
I was taken by the 7-minute epic “A&W.” There is an unease in the upright piano and down-tuned guitar that casts a shattered feeling to her word. Lana tackles the duality of using sex for attention (both in a sort of euphoric and empty manner). The title, “American Whore” (taken in a cheeky nod to the American root beer company), highlights this outlook.
The second half is similar to her earlier works as she paints the hedonistic night of drug use between her and this man. The hook, “Jimmy, Jimmy, cocoa puff, Jimmy, Jimmy, ride/ Jimmy, Jimmy, cocoa puff, Jimmy, get me high,” calls back to the Little Anthony and The Imperials “Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko Bop” continuing this retro meets modern tone.
“Judah Smith Interlude” follows “A&W” as controversial megachurch pastor Judah Smith preaches on turning against the temptations of sin. Taking aside his prior homophobic remarks, you could easily chop up this 5-minute song into a minute and a half and get a much more concise idea of guilt, spiritual redemption, and lust.
“Paris, Texas” is another highlight on the album. I love the arpeggiated piano lies that flutter you through the song. Here, she discusses her need to escape her surroundings to free herself from the chains of loss and depression. I like the central idea of knowing when you need a change, “When you know, you know/ When you know, you know/ It’s time, it’s time to go/ When you know, you know.” I also appreciate the sense of healing this moment brings.
She continues the theme of seeking guidance on “Grandfather, please stand on the shoulders of my father while he’s deep-sea fishing.” The addition of horns takes this song to another level. Lana also addresses the constant criticism around her authenticity. The potential call back to her misguided essay “Question of culture” in the lines, “I’m folk, I’m jazz, I’m blue, I’m green/ Regrettably, also a white woman/ But I have good intentions even if I’m one of the last ones,” may rub the wrong way on first listen. Still, additional plays bring the message into focus.
Miscellaneous
The final track on the album, “Taco Truck x VB,” is a mix of a new track, “Taco Truck” and a new mix of the Norman Fucking Rockwell epic “Venice Bitch”. “Taco Truck” evokes the 60s psychedelic aesthetic vibe that Ultraviolence went for. I think here it comes off much better. This also seamlessly blends into the new mix of “Venice Bitch.” This new mix of “Venice Bitch” that calls back to the sound of her debut is a cool way to close the project.
Overall Thoughts
This was a radical change in direction sonically and lyrically for Lana. Everything feels very organic and honest. There is so much depth to her vocal performances and change in backing instrumentation, creating a real sense of emotion. I like the underlying tone of lightness that I haven’t heard much from her before. This is one of the best records Lana Del Rey has put out in her catalog. The more I listen to this album, the more I love it. I can see how the disjointed nature of the last three tracks (being more hip-hop inspired) feels a bit out of place for some. That said, I highly recommend listening to this album for its honesty and soundscapes.
