Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

Great title – shame about the songs: Lana Del Rey’s Norman Fucking Rockwell reviewed

As usual the tracks lack melodic focus and discipline, despite the occasional intelligence and melodic sweetness

issue 07 September 2019

Grade: B+

Get the razor blades out, Ms Misery is back. Only the truly affluent can immerse themselves in such morose and earnest introspection. Listen to the music of Africa’s most benighted countries and, on the whole, you will hear very cheerful fellows.

Not so with the USA. Lana, a middle-class New Yorker of some talent, doesn’t actually tell you in every song that she’s about to top herself, as does, say, Billie Eilish. But you get the suspicion the thought is always hanging around her pretty head.

This is her sixth album and what you get is the usual string- and synth-drenched chamber pop, plangent minor-key piano chords or a tastefully plucked acoustic guitar, agreeable profanities and, occasionally, a tune you might remember for a while.

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