Norman Fucking Rockwell!

Attuned to diversity and experimentation within her music, Lana Del Rey’s latest release Norman Fucking Rockwell! (2019) compells us to explore a new style from the artist; in comparison to previous albums such as Ultraviolence (2014) Norman Fucking Rockwell! embodies a cinematic style ballad, and an ode to exploration and progression that Lana has, and will, continue to possess over her personal, political and artistic endeavours.

Speaking to a narcissistic “man child” within the immediate lines of the title track, Lana playfully reminisces “you fucked me so good that I almost said, "I love you``''. Embedded within the smooth, jazzy ballad of ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell’, a song which embodies the title of the album, the opening lines are an indicator that this is a work hugely influenced by Norman Rockwell himself. Despite the reference to the illustrator in the title, it is the album, as a whole, which demonstrates this; Norman Fucking Rockwell! is bold, authentic; it is whatever the creator wants it to be. A new genre for Lana, perhaps, but nevertheless, representative of the diverse style and creativity she continuously produces.

Carefree as ever, the opening song humorously berates the “know-it-all” protagonist, brazenly stating “your poetry’s bad and you blame the news, but I can’t change that, and I can’t change your mood, ah.” Despite the ambiguity surrounding this “self-loathing poet, resident Laurel Canyon”, this ballad does not shy away from exposing the self-absorbed narcissistic tendencies of the man she describes, as it should.

In the words of Lana herself, ‘the lyrics made me laugh…I guess I was just cracking myself up.”

The album however, and, in turn, the wit of the title track, is at the heart of Lana’s, and our own, complexity; the battle between realism and romanticism, identity, politics and lost love explore the overriding density of life, which Lana celebrates, laments and wittingly muses over, throughout the album.

Within the song ‘Cinnamon Girl’ against an undercurrent of smooth, dreamy rhythms, etched within a psychedelic style, Lana delves into an exploration of a painful relationship. “Cinnamon”, the epitome of the bittersweet love she describes for a man whose substance abuse, and the emotional burden this brings, starkly contrasts the playful opening song of Norman Fucking Rockwell!.

Jarred with vulnerability and withdrawal from the hurt she is suffering, Lana meditates “there’s things I wanna say to you but I’ll just let you live”. Ultimately, the conflict that the artist wishes to express to her lover will not actually be voiced directly. Potentially an acknowledgment of her pain, past and present, and her desire for reciprocated love will not actually change the man he is. Instead she chooses to spare him, and herself, from the reality of the realism this relationship encompasses.

Both the intoxicating, chaotic undertones of ‘Cinnamon Girl’ in contrast to the simple, steady tempo of ‘Love Song’ and the “high life” Lana paints in this ballad, juxtapose the helpless transparency of the lines “like if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did”.

Amongst the themes of heartbreak that are undoubtedly present within previous albums such as ‘The Blackest Day’ and ‘Terrence Loves You’ in Honeymoon (2015), transformation and hope are a source of salvation for listeners within songs like ‘Happiness is a Butterfly’.  Even within the ballad, Lana asks “do you want me or do you not?”, navigating the uncertainty and insecurity of the love she has with this “serial killer” (“If he's a serial killer, then what's the worst, That can happen to a girl who's already hurt? I’m already hurt”).

Reflecting on who she was before her relationship and the insecurity of the heartbreak that is associated with the protagonist of the song, Lana attests “I was one thing, now I’m being another”. The central theme of transformation and growth crystallised by this introspective line offers hope to the listener, and herself, that we are destined to change and transform, and that ultimately this metamorphosis into something new, or old, is inevitable, no matter the reason.

‘The Greatest’, one of the signature songs of NFR, and perhaps the most impactful, is plagued with nostalgia and sentiment. A song written in retrospect, with a sense of love, acceptance and appreciation for the past, and the people Lana left behind, it is a song devoid of resentment.

People and places become the central motifs within ‘The Greatest’, as Lana’s lyrics yearn for “Long Beach”, “New York”, and “dancing with you the most of all”. An ode to the innocence of youth, Lana states she wants “shit to feel just like it used to, When, baby, I was doing nothin’ the most of all”. Evoking sentiments of a wistful longing for what once was, Lana invites us to join her in a celebratory, yet contemplative reflection of years passed, asking us, daring us, to let go.

Politics is also at the heart of ‘The Greatest’, despite the sentimentality associated with her own life, showing us that as an artist, Lana is not afraid of fusing the conflict that emerges between the personal and the political. In an exhausting statement, “the culture is lit, and if this is it, I had a ball. I guess that I’m burned out after all” Lana appears to be accepting of the frail state we are often met with, and that has emerged from politics within the last couple of years, since she explored the pressing need for political activism in her album Lust for Life (2017) following the presidential election of 2016.

The outro of ‘The Greatest’ transforms into a critical commentary on current affairs, stating “Hawaii just missed that fireball, L.A. is in flames, it’s getting hot” and criticizing artist, Kanye West, for his right-wing associations, as Lana sings that he is “blond and gone”. Encompassing the helplessness of a generation who is exhausted by our current lifestyle, Lana urges us to reflect on our past to discover a way forward, and a way out of the predicament our world finds itself in.

Amongst a soothing tempo, likened to that of a lullaby, the piano becomes the last traces of the nostalgia that both Lana and the listener alike, are left to ponder.

In sync with the realism depicted within Norman Rockwell’s work of the 20th century, in the outro Lana bluntly declares “if this is it, I’m signing off’.

Unlike the unapologetic honesty of the opening lines of her title track ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell’ to denounce her narcissistic lover, her boldness here deals with, seemingly, a much greater issue; signalling a somewhat apocalyptic and not so unimagined exhausting future, unless we change.

By Molly Sharples