Lana Del Ray

I just kinda came up upon this lady and I'm listening and not really sure if I adore her or if she's just meh.

Are you familiar with this female singer watmm?

zzzZZZZzzzzZZZZzzzz

who dis b?

she sounds like she just swallowed half a bottle of ambien

soooo dreary and boring and blah

Reminds me of Boy George's Kissing Game song.

glorified christina aguilaera

She's a Faye Reagan without the tits

I'm sorry gaarg, but I'm calling jb7. I trojan horsed her into genban.

http://forum.watmm.com/topic/68589-hot-duckface/page__fromsearch__1

  On 12/17/2011 at 9:29 PM, disparaissant said:

she sounds like she just swallowed half a bottle of ambien

soooo dreary and boring and blah

Pretty much.

My wife said she sounded like a miserable Stevie Nicks with smoker vocal chords. And she hates Stevie Nicks.

  On 12/17/2011 at 10:20 PM, chassis said:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TLeakz7eiug

Wow, that makes me sad.

I love the original.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HO1OV5B_JDw

Also, she's cute as fuck.

yeah, i like her music that i've heard, video games ep. she reminds me of a modern nico kinda

She's a living marketing exercise. So, so creepy and calculated, but a fascinating case study nevertheless. Her management is paying through the nose for a lot of credible Pitchfork-level coverage in the hope that she can transition to mainstream.

Good review from NY Times:

Finally Taking the Stage, Direct From the Internet

By JON CARAMANICA

Lana Del Rey is a singer of songs that are very popular on the Internet. Stop. Rewind. That’s not quite it. Let’s try again.

Lana Del Rey is a person who makes music that is much discussed online. O.K., that’s closer, but still not there. A music-making thing? Nah. One more time.

Lana Del Rey is a tabula rasa, a punching bag, a reflection of our collective nightmares about American cynicism and disingenuousness. Sure, that’ll do.

Really Ms. Del Rey is a singer, sometimes a very good one, who wouldn’t deserve the degree of scrutiny she’s been subjected to online, even if she were far worse, or far better. In her current incarnation, she’s released exactly three songs, which all would sound fine in a Tarantino film or in an Urban Outfitters or in the lobby of the Ace Hotel. (She is releasing an album next month.)

That she in fact performed at all on Monday night at the Bowery Ballroom, in her first proper New York show, qualifies as a victory of sorts. (There was also a short, unadvertised set at the Glasslands Gallery in Williamsburg in September.) The Internet has not yet killed Ms. Del Rey.

But oh, is it trying, with a combination of skepticism about her motives and skepticism about her appearance and skepticism about her identity. Last year, under her given name, Lizzy Grant, she released a benign album of misty, semi-baroque singer-songwriter pop. But everything about Ms. Del Rey’s current phase is carefully plotted: it’s woozy and sometimes soporific soundtrack soul, glued firmly in the mid-1960s, with debts to Nancy Sinatra and Dusty Springfield.

At this show she came onstage to the nervous strings of the “Psycho” theme, and she was backed by dusty old footage displayed on three large white balloons, including several clips of President John F. Kennedy. Like her video for “Video Games,” the song that placed her in the line of fire this summer, it looked like the montage clip at your uncle’s retirement party.

Still, Ms. Del Rey can’t help feeling like another in an endless stream of sonic rediscoveries and repurposings facilitated by Internet access and distribution: Lana Del Rey is baile funk! is chopped and screwed! is doom metal!

Ms. Del Rey also follows the example of Amy Winehouse, another singer who took vintage styles and packed them with modern lyrical moments: She likes to curse, but only in contrast to her otherwise smooth demeanor and presentation. She wore a demure white dress here, with mustard collar and rosette-studded belt, and her hair was sprayed into a hard shell.

Backed by a band that too often mistook lethargy for melancholy, she proved herself to be far more active as an Internet meme than as a human being onstage. It felt like a rehearsal. Maybe it was.

“I have no time to practice, so I’m practicing with you,” she said. It wasn’t an apology.

And what a relief that was. Ms. Del Rey has a bad, maybe even terrible, attitude underneath the pristine exterior, and it’s trying to claw its way out.

At her best moments, she gave glimmers of being a Fiona Apple manquée — the voice, yes, was almost there, but the orneriness, the potential for rupture, is very much there already. She was chafing against the amber she’s trapped in.

After one song she said, “I’m not gonna lie — I’m not feeling that song lately.” After another, one that has not yet been the subject of Talmudic dissection on the Internet, she snipped: “I know you don’t care. You’re gonna” — really, except choosing a more emphatic word — “like it when it’s on the record.”

Clearly, she wants to be something different, but for now she’ll take just being something.

“I’m not doing an encore,” she said, “so don’t think I’m coming back.” And she didn’t.

king's wool looks like somebody socked her in the mouth.

Hmmmmmmmm, sounds like a lot of musicians, though I don't like that kinda attitude.

  On 12/18/2011 at 12:42 AM, Lucy Faringold said:

She's a living marketing exercise. So, so creepy and calculated, but a fascinating case study nevertheless. Her management is paying through the nose for a lot of credible Pitchfork-level coverage in the hope that she can transition to mainstream.

This. Very well put, btw. She's super creepo.

I got it in my head that I was gonna do a somewhat cheeky remix of ‘Video Games’ (terrible idea, I know) so I copped some WAVs. Up close in sample-cutting mode, you can tell there's some serious dollars behind her sound. Nothing lo-fi or indie at all about it.

fake lips are stupid that is why i will never enjoy her music

there are no more metanarratives. /give up

  On 12/18/2011 at 12:42 AM, Lucy Faringold said:

She's a living marketing exercise. So, so creepy and calculated, but a fascinating case study nevertheless. Her management is paying through the nose for a lot of credible Pitchfork-level coverage in the hope that she can transition to mainstream.

 

Good review from NY Times:

 

Finally Taking the Stage, Direct From the Internet

 

By JON CARAMANICA

 

Lana Del Rey is a singer of songs that are very popular on the Internet. Stop. Rewind. That’s not quite it. Let’s try again.

 

Lana Del Rey is a person who makes music that is much discussed online. O.K., that’s closer, but still not there. A music-making thing? Nah. One more time.

 

Lana Del Rey is a tabula rasa, a punching bag, a reflection of our collective nightmares about American cynicism and disingenuousness. Sure, that’ll do.

 

Really Ms. Del Rey is a singer, sometimes a very good one, who wouldn’t deserve the degree of scrutiny she’s been subjected to online, even if she were far worse, or far better. In her current incarnation, she’s released exactly three songs, which all would sound fine in a Tarantino film or in an Urban Outfitters or in the lobby of the Ace Hotel. (She is releasing an album next month.)

 

That she in fact performed at all on Monday night at the Bowery Ballroom, in her first proper New York show, qualifies as a victory of sorts. (There was also a short, unadvertised set at the Glasslands Gallery in Williamsburg in September.) The Internet has not yet killed Ms. Del Rey.

 

But oh, is it trying, with a combination of skepticism about her motives and skepticism about her appearance and skepticism about her identity. Last year, under her given name, Lizzy Grant, she released a benign album of misty, semi-baroque singer-songwriter pop. But everything about Ms. Del Rey’s current phase is carefully plotted: it’s woozy and sometimes soporific soundtrack soul, glued firmly in the mid-1960s, with debts to Nancy Sinatra and Dusty Springfield.

 

At this show she came onstage to the nervous strings of the “Psycho” theme, and she was backed by dusty old footage displayed on three large white balloons, including several clips of President John F. Kennedy. Like her video for “Video Games,” the song that placed her in the line of fire this summer, it looked like the montage clip at your uncle’s retirement party.

 

Still, Ms. Del Rey can’t help feeling like another in an endless stream of sonic rediscoveries and repurposings facilitated by Internet access and distribution: Lana Del Rey is baile funk! is chopped and screwed! is doom metal!

 

Ms. Del Rey also follows the example of Amy Winehouse, another singer who took vintage styles and packed them with modern lyrical moments: She likes to curse, but only in contrast to her otherwise smooth demeanor and presentation. She wore a demure white dress here, with mustard collar and rosette-studded belt, and her hair was sprayed into a hard shell.

 

Backed by a band that too often mistook lethargy for melancholy, she proved herself to be far more active as an Internet meme than as a human being onstage. It felt like a rehearsal. Maybe it was.

 

“I have no time to practice, so I’m practicing with you,” she said. It wasn’t an apology.

 

And what a relief that was. Ms. Del Rey has a bad, maybe even terrible, attitude underneath the pristine exterior, and it’s trying to claw its way out.

 

At her best moments, she gave glimmers of being a Fiona Apple manquée — the voice, yes, was almost there, but the orneriness, the potential for rupture, is very much there already. She was chafing against the amber she’s trapped in.

 

After one song she said, “I’m not gonna lie — I’m not feeling that song lately.” After another, one that has not yet been the subject of Talmudic dissection on the Internet, she snipped: “I know you don’t care. You’re gonna” — really, except choosing a more emphatic word — “like it when it’s on the record.”

 

Clearly, she wants to be something different, but for now she’ll take just being something.

 

“I’m not doing an encore,” she said, “so don’t think I’m coming back.” And she didn’t.

This is easily the most interesting, as well as the most damning, information about her. I know that (what appears to be a terrible site called) hipster runoff ran a poorly-spelled campaign making the point of her existence as the product of a marketing machine, as well as a number of other sites. It's almost creepy in how 1) easily-accepted, or 2) totally unremarked-upon this fact is in her career to some degree.

It's a weird comparison, but I thought the initial aesthetic of Lady Gaga as a "machine of the system" was a really smart way of getting future fans to accept her.

With Lana Del Rey, though, it's either a secret, or it's just okay, both of which are actually creepy to me.

her little mime for 'go and get high' was awkward as fuck

woops

  On 12/19/2011 at 6:21 PM, beerwolf said:

I found it all a bit weird tbh.

 

Out of nowhere comes this bird who appears on front pages and main articles on almost every music publication in existence.

 

I don't like music being shoved down my throat so I avoided all this bullshit. I aint no sucker.

 

As for the song? Granted its different to most chart music, it has a different angle. But carefully manufactured so. There is a massive, well-oiled coperate machine behind her.

I got all the data I need, thanks fellows.

So bitchy pornchick-looking singer, languid ballads, produced by Moby?

That first video cost some money, so she definitely has some financial backing.

i don't like this woman