Welcome to this sonic tour of Los Angeles. From the parties up in Beverley Hills – where movie stars and celebrities pretend to like each other as they dance around a pool that’s bigger than my own house – to the beach, where the tourists relax and get drunk off cheap 6-packs, pretending they’re in their own Hollywood blockbuster for the short time they’re here. Relax, drink, find love with a stranger, but make sure you stay true to yourself. Be unapologetic for who you are, or La La Land may just swallow you up.
Norman Fucking Rockwell is Lana at her unapologetic best. From the title, and two of the singles, you know she’s in control. Her label and marketing team probably had a fit once the news came through that the album title and two singles contained profanties, but that didn’t stop her. Meanwhile, the first lyric may be one of the best opening lines of an album, ever – “god damn, man child”.
This is Lana’s lullaby. Lust, love and loss. It’s an incredibly direct record, as Lana embodies all the emotions: pain, heartbreak and torture, empowerment, pride and hope. Forget metaphors and similes, forget imagery and hyperbole, this is simple, honest and assertive. There’s a real variety of tracks across the album, but they all bind together to develop a narrative of an imperfect love story merged with tales of empowerment as Lana Del Rey confesses everything.
Calm and assured, this is an artist who’s never been more comfortable with themselves. You can picture her sat at the piano, recording these tracks onto her phone before adding in the extra layers later – it all sounds that simple, oh so beautifully simple. Norman Fucking Rockwell is a beautiful piece of art, that sees the author at the top of their game.
