STEFAN MAKHOUL
At first listen, Lana Del Rey’s 7th studio album Chemtrails Over the Country Club may sound like a nostalgic ode to the '60s and to Del Rey’s own Midwest past, with a gorgeous soundscape, wispy vocals and sun-soaked visuals (in the accompanying videos), however one doesn’t need to look past the title to sense that the underlying message of the album is perhaps a little deeper and more cynical than might first be assumed. The referenced "chemtrail" conspiracy theory posits that the (ironically scenic) condensation trails left behind by aeroplanes contain chemicals used for nefarious purposes, undisclosed to the general public. In the album title, Del Rey links this with the ‘country club’, an institution of the middle and upper-middle classes, and an embodiment of Western lifestyle and the "American Dream".
Self-aware nostalgia is a theme that recurs throughout the album both visually and sonically. In particular, the title track of the same name tells a story of glamour, excess and consumption. Blissful visuals and melancholic lyrics precede a dark twist; as Del Rey sings of a simplistic far-gone summer, she references ‘wearing [her] jewels in the swimming pool’ and ‘drag racing in [her] little red sports car,’ both activities which ooze glamour and wealth. However this excessive lifestyle is revealed to be unsatisfying: ‘I’m not unhinged or unhappy, I’m just wild’ . The artist's primal feelings are exemplified later in the music video when Del Rey morphs into a wolf, the embodiment of freedom and the savage instinct. The impression the viewer is given is that despite the glitz and luxury of American life, it’s restrictive and fundamentally unfulfilling.
Even more damning is the song ‘Tulsa Jesus Freak’, a track that sheds light on a spiritual vacuum at the heart of America that not even religion can fill. Tulsa is a city in the state of Oklahoma notable for both its high rate of violent gang crime and (ironically) its high baptist population. Particularly biting are a couple of lines in the first verse:
We should go back to Arkansas
Trade this body for a can of gin
Like a little piece of heaven.
Only in Tulsa - perhaps one of the most religious parts of America - can the lawless and violent claim a ‘little piece of heaven.' Despite the religious fervour, the inhabitants of this city aren’t fulfilled or content. Religion seems at first glance to be an answer to hollow consumerism, something that provides meaning to the American existence. However this too is shown to be false: despite the song's gratuitous displays of piety (‘If you don’t pray you don’t learn’), life is still miserable and short. So, what is the solution in this search for meaning?
It would be uncontroversial to suggest that Del Rey’s persona lives in the sun-soaked past, only occasionally allowing us a glimpse through sprocket hole confined vignettes. While many a time she glorifies wealth, the most breathtaking and sincere song of her career is distinctly muted - the first track of the album, White Dress, features soft piano with gentle synthetic instrumentation, generally staying within a small musical range. This is a far cry from the lush orchestral backing of her debut album, reminiscent of the famous Nancy & Lee collection of the '60s.
Instead, White Dress is a simple song with a simple melody and simple lyrics, but nonetheless, it’s beautiful. It’s an elegy of sorts to Del Rey’s late teens, when she was a ‘waitress wearing a white dress’ ‘down in Orlando, [she] was only nineteen.’ In simple terms it's about a beautifully effortless memory of feeling young, free and content. But what's particularly noticeable in this song is the distinct lack of glamour, a typical trapping of her music videos. Rather, the clip simply features a character rollerblading on the freeway. While this scene exudes style, it doesn’t present opulence or material wealth, like other tracks on the album.
Throughout Chemtrails Over the Country Club, Del Rey glorifies the affluent, consumer driven '60s lifestyle, and taps into the innate glamour of the era, however the White Dress track is the only one on the album which glorifies the past without an undercurrent of criticism. Perhaps the message we’re meant to take from it is this: happiness can't be bought with money; instead it’s found in fleeting moments of freedom, contentment and genuine unadulterated beauty. This is a mantra that’s reinforced by the final verse of the song:
It made me feel, made me feel like a god
It kinda makes me feel like maybe I was better off
'Cause it made me feel, made me feel like a god
Kinda makes me feel like maybe I was better off
As such, despite the Los Angeles romance, retro consumerism and fame that the past holds, Lana Del Rey’s career brings her music to the logical end point: that real beauty and happiness is immaterial and can’t be purchased or neatly consumed.