One of the bigger downsides to The Memory Tourist going on hiatus was that it happened a few weeks before Lana Del Rey dropped “Chemtrails Over the Country Club.” This isn’t to suggest that it’s one of the biggest albums of the year, let alone in the artist’s career. I would argue that it’s one of the lesser commercial releases she’s made over the past decade, even if it’s another essential cornerstone to understanding her appeal in the greater pop echelon.
The main reason that I was disappointed was that there are few artists that I clamor onto with as fervent energy these days as her. Ever since “Ultraviolence,” I have bought the album right when it’s released and made a night of it. With the headphones on, I transport myself into her world, eager to hear what new melodies she’s crafted. I rarely listen to the singles initially outside of this context, if just because I adore the experience of discovery that comes with her albums. While it’s all part of one body of work, every album has its own slight tweak, whether it’s “Ultraviolence” sounding cinematic with film noir lyrics, or “Honeymoon” conveying a melodramatic beachside honeymoon. She transports the listener into these worlds, and I wish that anyone else had as much distinction as her.
Considering that this all could read as escapism, I’m impressed how long it took me to realize that the bigger theme of “Chemtrails” was, in fact, escapism. This is especially true of her escape from stardom and the Los Angeles/Southern California lifestyle that she had become known for. She was a celebrity, but now all she wanted to be was a no-name wandering around Yosemite, seeing the great wonders while taking snapshots with her friends. It may be why the album feels removed from the pop glamour and lives in a folksier vibe, full of guitars and twangs that find her at times singing in her most peaceful of registers.
The one advantage to waiting four months to share my opinions is that I can confess something fairly blasphemous: I didn’t really like it. For those first few listens, I struggled to really connect in the way that I had her previous album “Norman Fucking Rockwell” (a Top 10 overall favorite). I didn’t sense the immediacy nor found myself wanting to go back. Sure I enjoyed “White Dress,” though it was in part driven by her high-pitched register that she had rarely sung in (that and the all-timer “down at the music men’s business conference” line). I’ll confess that part of my rejection came from not being in a state to appreciate her laidback intentions. Still, I refused to give up on it.
To be completely honest, this was a week that should’ve been dedicated to her follow-up “Blue Bannisters.” It seemed perfect that she was finally releasing an album on Independence Day, the one holiday her work seems to have critiqued in the background of every song. What did it mean to be free? Instead, she took to Instagram to announce that it would be released “later later.” Also, she updated the album cover which itself was a relief, though it left a big gap on what to put here. As a result, I decided to finally address “Chemtrails” and determine just how I felt about it.
The best that I could say besides the cheap opinion that it is a “grower” was that the album was vocally her most ambitious. Considering that I usually adore her work more for lyrical creativity, this to me was disappointing. Gone were the theatrics and turn of phrases in favor of something resembling clarity and peace. This isn’t to say that the album lacks memorable lines, but nothing on par with “Happiness is a Butterfly” or “Off to the Races.” This was very sincere where even the opening song felt sparse. As much as I enjoyed the song “Chemtrails Over the Country Club” and its waltzing melody, it wasn’t enough to immerse me. It’s clear that she was over California and that the subtextual narrative was pushing her to a road trip with her gal pals.
But to back up for a moment, I want to talk about her ambitious harmonies and melodies. “White Dress” exists almost in a hushed harmony, airless and without a deeper bass to ground her voice. It sounds like she was on the breeze, being carried out by The Santa Ana Winds. To those vocal purists, it’s a difficult song to do justice to because, as one YouTube commenter suggested, it makes you sound like a screeching cat. However, it’s the peaceful resonance that is necessary for what is going forward. By the end of the song, the vocals become fuller, finding a sense of peace as she suggests that maybe she was better off as a waitress working the night shift.
The album is about the simple life, the need to escape the trappings that have defined celebrity. In that respect, the best way for Lana Del Rey to symbolize this vocally is by playing with her range. “Chemtrails Over the Country Club” is hypnotic, bouncing highs and lows before returning to a higher-pitched chorus in “Tulsa Jesus Freak” where she decides that she can be “white hot forever” and have this exuberance. The accompanying harmonies on this line sound cavernous, creating an expansive wonderment of where her journey will take her. Given that later tracks like “Not All Who Wander Are Lost” continue to play with her higher range, it’s interesting to see this reinvention as one perpetual journey.
The few songs that play with poppier melodies (“Dark But Just a Game”) have this youthful rebellion that her earlier work was known for. Even then, it’s a recurring theme that suggests a young love on the lam, “getting high in the parking lot” and finding ways to kill the boredom. By “Dance Till We Die” where she announces the name of her unborn daughter Clementine, it’s clear that there was a love story buried underneath this journey, where the lust for life was with someone who meant the world to her. Considering that she wears her influences on her sleeve, her shout outs to Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell help to make sense of where she is at. She feels displaced, eager to be part of the 60s counterculture movement.
For those listening to her albums chronologically, there’s a good chance that this feels understated. Despite my growing appreciation for the record, I still find the finale “For Free” to be a lackluster conclusion. Sure it culminates the album’s themes of breaking free of industry and performing on street corners for adoring passerby’s, but it’s such a slow-tempo number that doesn’t leave the audience with any relief. Sure the harmonies with Zella Day and Weyes Blood are nice, but it feels like it ends on an ellipse. What is Lana Del Rey going to do next? Maybe the point is that not even she knows.
That’s the thing about “Chemtrails” compared to every other album. While it’s more concise than something like “Lust for Life,” it lacks the production flairs that would make this an exemplary work. Even the way that the vocals never quite hit a conventional register for more than a verse suggests that this is more designed as personal work, the artist growing vulnerable and attempting to find something greater than her own artifice. That’s fine and she still has something to offer in her craft. I love that right as you think you’ve figured her out she switches things up, but this is one point that caught me off-guard.
Considering that I haven’t listened to any of the singles off of “Blue Bannisters” yet, I am unclear on if this is her new direction. Will she be branching out more into folk-rock and songs that are more meditative, or will she one day return to the beachside hits? Given that she’s recently announced a pregnancy, odds are that she’s mellowing down, maybe releasing another poetry book where she continues to explore her fraught relationship with California. More than anything, “Chemtrails” suggests how much of a free soul she is, eager to not be tied down for too long. I would like to imagine she goes where her heart wants her to, and that may take her in an even more random direction.
With that said, I really like all of her albums in spite of finding many flaws. Part of listening to a new album is determining whether it’s a new favorite or one that I will fall into the lesser rotation. Is this bound to be full of “Born to Die”-level hits that transport me into this melancholic landscape of self-exploration? If nothing else, I’m happy that Lana Del Rey is finding some form of peace. Her lyricism has grown increasingly optimistic, dreaming of a future that is less and less cynical. For whatever features I find lacking on “Chemtrails,” none of it comes from her perspective. It’s even more jubilant and unrestricted this time around.
Maybe all it will take is a road trip to understand this album. With a crackling bonfire going wild in the desert one late night, friends sitting around drinking and taking in the ambiance with random stories, I imagine that this album makes sense. It’s a look back that is for once positive. More importantly, it’s a look forward that suggests something unprecedented for our times: things will be okay if you are true to yourself. There are enough clever twists here to suggest that even more creative days are ahead. Until then, I’ll have to wait for Lana Del Rey’s personal journey to bring with it some personal revelations. They come from the most unlikely of places, maybe staring up at the stars and admiring how beautiful the world is. She seems to be having a good time, and that’s enough for me.
Comments
Post a Comment