Ranking Lana Del Rey's Catalog

11. "Lana Del Ray a.k.a. Lizzy Grant" (2010)

Full disclosure: this was my first time listening to this fabled album. Unlike every other record on this list, I haven’t given it time to marinate in my imagination. With that said, the worst part of the album is that Lana Del Rey would become so much more in such a short window. On the one hand, you can see exactly where “Born to Die” came from. The topics have remained consistent from the very beginning, finding her as much embracing her roots living in a trailer park as she is imagining becoming a movie star and living in a world of luxury. There’s a nice mix of optimism and morbidity. The only issue is that everything since 2012 has been more interesting if just for how much time she dedicated to exploring her greater image.

The legacy of this album is so messy that one would be forgiven for leaving it off of Lana Del Rey retrospectives. Even if she had an even earlier project with May Jailer, this is the initial attempt to brand herself as Lana Del Ray (with an ‘A’). Had she released music in the vein of “Born to Die” for the rest of her career, it’s likely that the novelty of this record would be less scratchy. It’s very much a debut album in that despite the many high points, there’s never a proper cohesion that keeps it interesting. There are more moments of promise, where she is experimenting with every level of her vocal register. She’s at times comical others seductive and even a few shades off from a Portishead tribute singer.

Nothing will be more interesting than knowing that Lana Del Rey was pushing boundaries from the very beginning. Not only that, but had she never gotten a major label behind her, there’s a good chance she’d be churning out the offbeat indie rock like this for the rest of her career. It wouldn’t necessarily be bad, though it would come at the expense of what has made her a generational talent, influencing artists to be more conceptual and create complicated imagery through song. While it’s obvious that vocally she may seem immature at this point, there’s still enough here that’s genuinely pretty good. Had I listened to something like “Queen of the Gas Station” in 2010, I might be more prone to call it brilliant. As it stands, even songs that would be rerecorded later (“Yayo”) show the small ways she improved and quickly. This is not as embarrassing of a footnote as I expected, though I still don’t know that it should be held against her. 

10. "Lust for Life" (2017)

One of the best parts about doing a relisten to every Lana Del Rey album is remembering what you loved about each record while discovering the small things you forgot about. With limited exceptions, I have enjoyed her entire discography and even come away appreciating minor works more. However, there is one truth that I haven’t been able to really shake and hoped to this time. I was hoping that this would be when the back half of “Lust for Life” suddenly clicked for me. Starting about halfway through, the music hits a certain lag that I don’t think it ever recovers from. Given that this includes over a half hour of perceived filler, it makes this record one of the most difficult to want to revisit.

Which is a shame because of how amazingly it starts off. Musically, this stands to rank among her most exciting productions. Tracks like “Love” and “Cherry” have so much personality that makes me wish the rest of the record had this. For the early stretch, this is Lana Del Rey making a Steven Spielberg-level cinematic album, where everything is so big and full of wonder. You’re in awe of the title track where The Weeknd dances with her on The Hollywood Sign. It’s mesmerizing what she achieves for the first five songs especially… and then the rest of the album happens. Maybe it’s the A$AP Rocky and Playboi Carti features or that her strange trap beats on “Summer Bummer” are slightly less embarrassing than that Harmony Korine collaboration. It’s experimentation that is nonetheless interesting but is it successful? I would choose to argue against that.

It would be easy to argue that her “Born to Die” phase is over, but “Lust for Life” strikes me as to what the sequel would’ve looked like. The hits are very good. The sad songs are more introspective. There’s even features from Sean Ono Lennon and Stevie Nicks that finds her nostalgia bleeding into other facets of her music. One can even argue that she seems happier by the end, finding an activist mindset and desire to be more than a controversial singer. There’s an eagerness that makes songs like “Coachella – Woodstock in My Mind” and “When the World Was At War We Kept Dancing” seem like worthwhile detours. Still, for anyone wanting to call Lana Del Rey boring and self-indulgent, this is the primest of examples. I will say some of it still works for me, such as the Radiohead-suing closer “Get Free,” but this is the only time where I’m impatiently waiting for a Lana Del Rey record to end, which is the real problem here. It has so many great ideas, but maybe that’s not always a good thing. 

9. "Paradise" (2012)

In most cases, it would be easy to lump this together with “Born to Die.” The early 2010s was a period where every significant artist would release a small E.P. to accompany their big release. In most cases, it expanded with a few b-sides or cuts that wouldn’t necessarily rank among their best work. However, few artists feel like they benefited from the bump quite like Lana Del Rey. While “Born to Die” came out as a divisive album, “Paradise” helped to make certain things clear in a Pre-“Young and Beautiful” world. She wasn’t a novelty act who would just go away. In fact, her style was only going to continue to grow.

I don’t know that “Paradise” necessarily is that much of a versatile departure, but it does feel like having an eager artist receive the criticism and immediately make music meant to impress. Right off the bat, “Ride” is among her finest moments. The harmonies entering the song are haunting before the chorus makes you feel like you’re sticking your head out the window, enjoying that summer breeze. It’s the road trip song that feels every bit like going 70 MPH along the coastline. Other songs like “American” and “Body Electric” helped to build her mythology as an artist who wanted to deconstruct our love of nostalgia and find something real in the artifice.

With that said, it has a few marks to consider. It’s the shortest work featured here clocking in at roughly a half hour. While the best songs on here rank among her best work, there are moments like “Yayo” and “Bel Air” that don’t quite reach the same highs. With that said, there is a goofy charm to how much she embraces the icons of yesteryear, notably by declaring Elvis Presley as her father and Marilyn Monroe as her mother on “Body Electric.” Still, there’s no moment quite as enduring for me as “Gods & Monsters,” which opens with B-Movie gunshots and proceeds to be a horror pastiche that turns a journey of searching for sex and connection into something more despairing. It’s not exactly scary, but given early criticism of her being a sad girl, it strangely fits with what she would do if she had to be in a movie with the cast of Bride of Frankenstein (1933). It’s a teaser of what came before with some hints of where “Ultraviolence” would take her. It’s not the most stable ride, but nonetheless an exciting detour.  

8. "Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass" (2020)

There’s something inevitable about Lana Del Rey releasing a poetry book. Anyone who has consumed enough of her work will notice how much feels inspired by the free-formed, interpretive style that comes with prose. While the accompanying audiobook doesn’t feature readings of every work (there’s a series of haikus that remain in the physical copy), it still features a fun, interpretive take on her own words. As she reads each poem, producer Antonoff provides a sonic backdrop, creating one of the most abstract albums she’s likely to release. For those looking at Lana solely as a singer, this may be an easy dead-last ranking. However, for someone like me who is as enraptured by her words, there’s something difficult about not appreciating the insight that comes with this project.

While now overshadowed by the notorious mesh-mask incident, the book itself is a great expansion of the mythos. This is especially true of her contemporary obsession with Southern California, where she details driving around town and taking sailing lessons in the hopes of finding some self-discovery. I’d rank this lower, but there is something undeniable about the cadence and flow of poems like “L.A. Who Am I To You?” where she discusses relationships against the backdrop of moving from San Francisco to Los Angeles while contemplating the many environmental and social issues that come with it. Sure, tracks like “Tessa DiPietro” are more obtuse and find her love of a bygone era (in this case Jim Morrison), but they all help to build an image of her that’s not as present on the stricter music structure she usually confines herself to.

Fans will be just as intrigued by how her style changes in poetry as they are finding the recurring themes juxtaposed in different forms. I for one enjoy works like “SportCruiser” and the way the motif builds over the different events. Again, I’d rank it lower in terms of Top 40 potential, but I personally love the lyricism a whole lot on here and while there are some hits and misses, it’s overall a project that feels a little bit above self-indulgent. There’s an actual voice and talent here. With that said, those doing an audiobook read-along with the text may be disappointed to learn that some of the lines are changed and the order they’re read isn’t reflective in the book (nor is there a table of contents). With that said, “Bare Feet on Linoleum” is a fantastic, haunting way to end the audiobook and actually serves as a nice thematic bridge between “Norman Fucking Rockwell!” and “Chemtrails Over the Country Club.”

7. "Chemtrails Over the Country Club" (2021)

The proper follow-up to “Norman Fucking Rockwell!” finds Lana Del Rey getting a little stir crazy in Southern California and needing to travel the United States. While this opens with one of my absolute favorite songs, “White Dress,” I find her turn into more 1960s folk song style to be a bit muted compared to most of her later work. It’s nice to find her style stripped down and focusing more on self-actualization, but the record has always struggled to feel complete for me. As it stands, “For Free” may be nearly five minutes long, but the way that it fades out doesn’t feel like a button or declarative statement. Instead, it just feels like a transition to the next song. Maybe that’s the point, but as a listening experience, it lacks satisfaction.

Which isn’t to say that “Chemtrails Over the Country Club” is lacking substance. There is that sense of adventure in every song. The final minute of “Tulsa Jesus Freak” is a brilliant soundscape where she sings “We’ll be white hot forever” and you buy into that enthusiastic sentiment. Elsewhere, you get songs like “Dark But Just a Game” reflecting the misadventures she gets up to in parking lots. As a snapshot of what a road trip feels like, this is a fairly interesting record when it’s at its best. She’s experimenting with her style and even has fun instrumentation, where songs like “Not All Who Wander Are Lost” includes what can only be described as studio vocals in the background saying some indiscernible comment.

There’s a lot to love about the record as a listen. Songs like “Breaking Up Slowly” find her exploring heartache from a more mature standpoint that makes you see the growth from her “Born to Die” era. Still, this is a record about putting aside the expectations of society and finding yourself in the great outdoors. The best moments feel like echoing into canyons or driving through deserts, though again they’re very sporadic and differ from track to track. For as cohesive as it is, this may be her least cinematic record to date, which may mean that she’s breaking free to a more creative version of authenticity. Given that this was Part 1 of a two album celebration in 2021, the answer came quick on how she changed when she returned home. If anything, this is the calm before the storm that is “Blue Bannisters.”

6. "Born to Die" (2012)

*Bonus Track Edition

Even if there have been better records from her, “Born to Die” has the gift of being the first proper chapter in her mythology. Following the viral sensation of “Video Games,” this album came under vast scrutiny for a variety of reasons from it being outdated to its authenticity and even gender politics. Reviews were quick to criticize the songwriting if they weren’t jeering at the “Gangsta Nancy Sinatra” tag that never fully stuck. Given that the record has become one of the longest charting albums by a female artist, it’s easy to say that she’s outlasted those ready to see her downfall and even has an army of next generation icons who look to her as an inspiration. Many great artists have fallen under pressure like that, which only makes the fact that Lana Del Rey is still relevant all the more impressive.

A major conflict with “Born to Die” for me is that the parts that have become crucial to lore are some of her greatest work. The opening title track is a beautiful, sweeping manifesto with this bittersweet production behind it. “Video Games” and “National Anthem” showed early signs of her building this persona as the patriotic girlfriend while “Summertime Sadness” gave insight into how poetic her vision of grief could be. The cuts on here that are masterful will likely be on LDR-centric playlists forever. Others, like “Radio,” will endure less because of their greatness but because of motifs (like cinnamon) that will continue to be present throughout the rest of this discography.

However, the songs that don’t fully land are mediocre at best for me. There are moments where it’s clear that she’s experimenting with where she wants to take her sound, but “Without You” and “Lucky Ones” are far from essential and add most to the complaints of artifice. She’s still struggling to find the balance of emotion and artistry here, and that’s fine. She’s nowhere near as cheeky as she would be even on “Ultraviolence” nor as painfully earnest. With that said, this is a quintessential record even for casual fans looking to understand just what the LDR phenomenon is all about. It’s an image roughly crafted into something unique. There’s enough there to get excited about, but it hasn’t fully made peace with the Top 40 it sought to infiltrate. The less concerned she’s gotten about being that way, I’d argue the better her music has become. 

5. "Ultraviolence" (2014)

*Deluxe Edition

Some could argue that Lana Del Rey never quite met the potential of “Born to Die” throughout the rest of her career. Then again, did she really want to? Even with a fantastic major label debut that continues to sell, nobody could predict the turning point that “Ultraviolence” was. Her follow-up found her largely abandoning the familiar pop aesthetic and building one of her most cinematic works to date. With help from The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, she took on the role of femme fatale to explore the “Sad Girl” persona and create this deeper, darker commentary on how the public saw her. The results make for her most melodramatic album to date, and one that captured a new generation of ennui forming through the coolest filters imaginable.

For me personally, this is a difficult album to rank less because I think it is bad but more because of how little I revisit it. Even if she’s strayed from Top 40 sensibilities, I’m still unsure why “Ultraviolence” is as praised as it is. Most of the musical criticisms one can have of her music is here – notably the slower tempo and brooding vocals – and I generally find “Born to Die” to have better highs. With that said, my umpteenth revisit for this article at least confirms one thing. This may not be the catchiest record, but to listen to the vocals on “Money Power Glory” is to hear her soaring to new potential. Meanwhile, “Brooklyn Baby” finds her storytelling skills strengthening as she bashfully continues her love affair with the past as she plays guitar and sings Lou Reed. It’s a marvelously accomplished album if judged as a singular work and easily the most methodical she will ever be about deconstructing her image.

With all of this said, “Old Money” remains one of my absolutely essential songs in her career. It captures those perfect low-pitch vocals mixing with those bittersweet harmonies as she incorporates color theory and discusses her family in ways that are beautiful. It’s everything that makes her an endearing force. I love that this established the idea of an atmosphere and that every album from here on out could be very different. Even with the globe-hopping tracks on this, nothing is as amusing or as dated and out of place as “Florida Kilos.” Even as a bonus track, it’s amazing to think there was a time when Lana Del Rey and Harmony Korine collaborated to basically make a reject Spring Breakers (2013) song. Nothing about it fits her personality which makes her trying to make the party state the only baffling track in this whole affair. I also am partial to “Is This Happiness?” which feels like the perfect closer even if it’s not on every version of the album. 

4. "Blue Bannisters" (2021)

Of everything that makes her second 2021 album an incredible listen, the most impressive is maybe how confidently it seeks to rewrite her own playbook. The opening song “Textbook” finds her rewriting her own life story as she highlights everything from her own career to the Black Lives Matter movement. From the opening song alone, there’s a greater sense of purpose to her music, where she’s not afraid to challenge the idea of what can happen over a five minute song. Those expecting more of the same after “Chemtrails Over the Country Club” may prove disappointed as the average song changes tempo and rhythm at least three times, where the experimental pianos and vibrant poetry, such as on the title track, create vivid pictures.

While “Norman Fucking Rockwell!” was able to introduce her new era, I’d argue this was where any complaints of artifice started being ripped to shreds. She was still nostalgic, even incorporating a few early tracks into her new soundscape. Where else will you hear Ennio Morricone mixed with a trap beat? There’s a giant middle finger throughout the elegant production, where her harmonies find her mining deeper for something more personal. It’s why tracks like “Beautiful” resonate and “If You Lie Down With Me” has such a passionate embrace. If nothing else, this is where traces of who the artist really is starts to come out, unafraid of being commercial and doing songs like “Black Bathing Suit” that never settle for long on a tempo.

This is a record of maturity. It’s a glimpse inside Lana Del Rey’s mind as she contemplates the next stage of her life. She ponders motherhood on “Sweet Carolina” and feels unrestrained after a toxic relationship on “Violets for Roses.” If there’s anything to be said for this sweeping epic, it’s that these are some of her grandest tracks, where she’s looking into the future with optimism and acceptance. Even on the album’s more striking cuts like “Dealer,” she’s tying it back to the feelings of change and growth. Overall, it’s maybe her most esoteric record to date and at times difficult to become engrossed with. However, long time fans will be appreciative of the craft and songwriting here that elevates her into a class of her own. This is one of the few records that can truly not be mistaken for anyone else. It’s confidently, stubbornly all her.

3. "Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd." (2023)

There hasn’t been a record in Lana Del Rey’s discography that is as meticulously crafted as this one. Bookended by songs that draw the listener back and forth through memory, she has created a journey through her life as she contemplates the highs and lows of a decade in the spotlight. Following early accusations of being inauthentic, this is the first time where that feels entirely wrong. From the opener “The Grants,” she quickly establishes a sense of family, faith, and religion all butting heads in her quest to create a new Southern California spiritualism. Self-described as a vibe record, she takes listeners through every step of life, recounting joys and pitfalls with the familiar aplomb and some of her finest productions to date.

One of the most refreshing things is even as she dives deeper into her biggest emotions on songs like “Fingertips,” she has a playfulness that reflects her subtle humor shining through. It’s there on tracks like “Peppers” where she hearkens back to her early days as she incorporates a hip-hop chorus and embodies a happiness that “Lust for Life” promised but is put to shame with how willingly “Taco Truck x VB” transitions from a vape smoke-covered journey through mobile eateries into her own past. It may not all make sense upon a first listen, but devout fans will admire what’s achieved with the subtle callbacks and interpolations all painting a picture of where she is now. She’s long been happy, but it feels like she’s officially found her version of nirvana.

It goes without saying that this also features one of her towering achievements with “A&W” turning a seven minute career retrospective into the most cryptic yet enticing listen in her career. It’s nostalgic, painful, and downright hallucinatory. It’s the work of someone not afraid of Top 40 glory. She’ll find happiness and success on her own terms. Even then, there’s something to be said for how effortlessly she builds a world and even finds room for “Judah Smith Interlude” where she laughs at a preacher for five minutes. It may sound self-indulgent, but she makes it all count. Even her wedding song for Margaret Qualley on “Margaret” fits within this view of finding love and embracing that beauty. Long gone are the days when Lana Del Rey was just a pouty girl imitating the charts. Now she’s her own ecosystem, leaving everyone to wonder how it all grows. Like she suggests at one point… who wouldn’t want to skinny dip inside her mind? It’s the closest that she’s come to making a personal, transcendent record, and also maybe her most definitive masterpiece yet.

2. "Honeymoon" (2015)

There’s some relief in knowing that Lana Del Rey didn’t double down on the sad girl aesthetic for her “Ultraviolence” follow-up. Having explored the depths of darkness, she returns a year later with what is arguably her most playful record yet. Sure, there’s songs like “Terrence Loves You” about lost loves, but this is one of those moments where her worldview becomes more exciting. What she lacks in direct pop hooks she more than makes up for with her own cult of personality. If one knows where to look, there’s a whole lot of fun moments on this record where her cleverness is either delusional or downright funny. Don’t believe me? Try to determine if the chorus of “Salvatore” is her undercutting her own cinematic prowess with “soft ice cream” or using the dessert as some greater metaphor. It’s lyrical genius is only matched by a great vocal performance.

Also, this may feature her strongest run of songs from her early run. After establishing a southern tropic gothic tone on the title song, she finds herself digging into various topics of seaside intrigue. This is a vacation trip where everything isn’t what it seems. “God Knows I’ve Tried” sounds like the most regretful hangover. Meanwhile, “High By the Beach” is one of her best album singles. Not only does she manage to make criticizing her man into a fun, echoing verse, but the bridge at the end is a sublime mix of her patented revenge-seeking poetry and the hilarious decision to just sing “high” as long as she could until the wind carries it away.

Some could argue this is where things get very self-indulgent. They wouldn’t be wrong, but I think it’s where she officially establishes herself as a force of nature. She even has her own James Bond song on here (“24”). Still, for those who like the playful side, tracks like “Freak” and “Art Deco” find her at her most interesting, exploring culture and trying to find her own place within it. Maybe she’s not fully over the sad girl trappings that defined her last album, but there are signs that this vacation is having a positive influence. It’s one of her most creatively successful albums, able to make the most of its hour-long run. It’s also a leap vocally for her as songs like “Religion” or “The Blackest Day” find her more convincingly pulling from nuanced emotions. It may take a few listens to fully appreciate its vibe, but once you do, it’s a perfect excuse to pull out that folding chair and just stare at waves for a while. 

1. "Norman Fucking Rockwell!" (2019)

There’s something to be said for Lana Del Rey being a near-decade into her storied career and still proving what she’s capable of. After many had discarded her, she continued to evolve and challenge the pop medium to find a sound that was authentically hers. While every album has its share of success, there was something undeniable about “Norman Fucking Rockwell!” which garnered her best reviews and perfectly encapsulated the mythos that she had been developing her whole career. If thought of as a direct sequel to “Honeymoon,” it’s an improvement on that album’s themes, managing to turn sun-drenched days on the beach into wondrous fantasies as she takes on love in its many forms. Even her political takes feel a lot stronger than the last time out, or at least more sonically pleasing with arguably the punchiest open to a Lana Del Rey album to date.

As a devout fan going back to 2013, there’s too much that this record means to me. It’s the moment where she fully embraced the Southern California mindset, visiting port cities like Long Beach and San Pedro while updating the fantasies of endless summer fun. It’s maybe the moment where she not only gained confidence, but has evolved into another form. “Venice Bitch” veers off into an instrumental that floats like a wave. “Cinnamon” shakes the calm shores with a chaotic conclusion that would predict later releases. Along with “Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman to have but I have it” having the best rhyme of her career with iPad and saying “Hi dad” from beyond the grave, it’s arguably her most accomplished as a lyricist. 24/7 Sylvia Plath indeed.

It's still debatable if “NFR!” is the start of a more accomplished Lana Del Rey, but I honestly believe it’s a zenith for so much. It’s a culmination of themes she has been playing with for years while also alluding to musical styles that she would continue to play with on her next few releases. It’s creative and playful, both indebted to the pop culture of yesteryear while being a genuine stamp of authenticity. Her storytelling has gotten stronger on songs like “Love Song,” “Fuck It, I Love You” and “Happiness is a Butterfly” which is currently my all-time favorite song. She is far more than the sad girl that people stereotyped her as in 2012. She has not only lived to mock the critics, but has proven that she’s beyond them. She can go anywhere from here, and I’d argue it’s the start of the most exciting period of her career yet.