honeymoon_LEAD

Lana Del Rey has been relying far less on her sultry, over-the-top vocal pout than she has in the past, and frankly, the more she reins that in, the better. What’s left is certainly a listenable bit of drama, but it’s also incredibly sleepy.

Every track on Honeymoon is undoubtedly a ballad, weeping about broken relationships with perfectly crescendo-ing orchestras behind her. Unfortunately, the retro chic goes well beyond that and into melodic copy-pasting, plagueing the entire album of re-purposed riffs. She may have ditched the Betty Boop impersonation, but the album still begs for more originality.

Honeymoon

After teasing fans with a 19-second snippet months back, “Honeymoon” has arrived. It’s LDR doing what LDR’s (always) gonna do. Fans will love it, and some others will as well — she’s still musically a Bond-ian meme, but the track drones well beyond the brevity implied by the term: [LISTEN]

Honeymoon

Music to Watch Boys To

It’s a clever albeit quite creepy title, but this creepiness returns to traditional gender roles in just two lines. Instead of gawking at male passersby, she does their bidding (no matter what that entails) because she “like[s them] a lot.” In other news, reverb and delay are turned up to eleven: [LISTEN]

Music to Watch Boys to

Terrence Loves You

As soon as LDR opens her mouth, she note-for-note plagiarizes the famous “You Only Live Twice” string melody (i.e. Bond theme sampled in Robbie Williams’ “Millenium”). It’s her album fave for its “jazzy” (read: lounge ballad) style. Still a fairly well-made nostalgic breakup track, though: [LISTEN]

Terrence Loves You

God Knows I Tried

The tumbleweeds and “tequila sunrise[s]” vibe here could not be any more Nancy Sinatra (particularly “Bang Bang,” which this track rips off gratuitously). LDR has always bit off this steez, but never as wholeheartedly as here. At least Sinatra’s writers had some versatility:

God Knows I Tried

High by the Beach

This four-chorder relies heavily on trap trend-hopping, copious use lyricism that’s either “baby, baby, bye, bye” dumbed-down or yanked from The Beatles’ “A Little Help” and her usual steez of dark-yet-sunburnt vibes. It’s definitely good and catchy, though; even more so than usual for her style: [LISTEN]

High by the Beach

Freak

Some more trap percussion here, more “slow danc[ing] to rock music,” and more “California” references, although it works a bit more here. It’s probably thanks to the 808 kicks and the “freak” flag flying. Still not particularly refreshing, but at least it’s much more effective:

Freak

Art Deco

This one takes its ambient, reverbed melodrama into a poppier realm, like a The Weeknd track that is equally snobby and hipper-than-thou, but without Tesfaye’s douchey narcissism. It’s generally more of the same from the preceding tracks, but grows on listeners fiending for narcotic vibes:

Art Deco

Burnt Norton (Interlude)

Laid over a pretty electronic atmosphere, LDR gives us an artsy poem that dabbles in cosmic, stoner talk and “what-might-have-beens:”

Burnt Norton (Interlude)

Religion

After two handfuls of consecutive ballads, this 68-bpm groove feels like a regular gallop. It’s another love track (still a ballad, really) that deifies Del Rey’s lover, throwing in some (possibly unintentional) “on [her] knees” double entendre for good measure:

Religion

Salvatore

Someone did the whole ‘upload under a famous-artist’s name to poach views on YouTube’ gig for this track with a heavy, trip hop-py instrumental—apparently, it’s actually “Ride ‘n’ Smoke” by Perry Louis Rich. Anyway, despite LDR’s thick layer of 40s imagery, the no-name jam was far more intriguing:

Salvatore

The Blackest Day

With a Converge/Black Dahlia Murder lovechild title, this breakup track is decidedly less metal. Rather, it’s another sleepy one, pretty much indistinguishable from the rest. To be fair, the album has a definite direction and sound. It’s just a bit monotonous if you want anything else:

The Blackest Day

24

The title refers to “hours in a day,” all of which LDR spends being lied to by a lover in this track, swept up with jazz brushes and castanets fit for a tango (or ballad, of course). There are a few zingers here, though, such as this little set of lines:

24

Swan Song

You’d think that a “swan song,” would wrap up the album, but it just signifies yet another failed relationship ending (this time with “…Watchtower” chords). At this point in the album, even the most melodramatic of heartbroken teenage listeners is thinking “dude, it’s just dating; move on:”

Swan Song

Don’t Let Me Be Misunterstood

This was a classic when Nina Simone first recorded it, and it was still a classic when The Animals pepped it up with a heavy rock coating. LDR doesn’t butcher it, but her version doesn’t really impress nor add anything new of value, either:

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood