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Naturally, this isn’t an original thought: the bulk of her fan base (sad girls and wistful gays) seems to feel the same. I’ve always felt Lana del Rey and I had a lot in common. Lana’s lugubrious grandiosity just about pulls it off. Yet, it is this adolescent melodramatic quality which makes it so perfect as a post-breakup anthem: the brokenhearted are all foolish teenagers and every possible way of describing the grief of separation risks cliché or tacky allusion. Del Rey calls herself a “24/7 Sylvia Plath” and “the most famous woman you know on the iPad”. In it, Del Rey intones “Don't ask if I'm happy, you know that I’m not / But at best, I can say I'm not sad / 'Cause hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have.” The song is, at times, comically overwrought and senseless. People going through heartbreak are addicts going through a withdrawal, and like any addict, my ritual soon became less elaborate and more reductive: all my feelings, it seemed, could be expressed by the album’s final track “Hope Is A Dangerous Thing For A Woman Like Me To Have (But I Have It)”. In the month that followed, I listened to Norman Fucking Rockwell by Lana Del Rey, while crying, every day.
#Lana del rey unreleased song tik tok tv#
“I want Lana in a short-lived relationship of highly public devotion to a reality TV pig who was 12 years her senior. We told each other we loved each other, lay in each other’s arms for a few minutes, then I left him at his home in another city for the last time and we both knew we wouldn’t see each other again. When the end came, it was peaceful and devastating. In the end, it started to become clear the futures we envisioned were vastly different and I spent months churned up there were ever more frequent flashes of realisation that our differences were irreconcilable. Long distance relationships are defined by absence and yearning, in which the thought of the person abides with you more than he does. The fact the relationship was long distance had, initially, only added to my Del Rey-esque sublimation of the inherent conflicts in the pairing. I soon threw myself headlong into the oxytocin and dopamine induced fantasy of our future together. He and I had fallen reciprocally in love, unexpectedly, the previous spring. I didn’t pay it much attention because it came the same night that I realised, just like Lana Del Rey, I was going to break up with my boyfriend. The first time I heard about “the coronavirus” was in a text from my mother in late January 2020. Lana Del Rey is, after all, a role model for ideals and impulses that we know shouldn’t be role modelled. Where’s the fatalistic breakup album in that? I want Lana in a short-lived relationship of highly public devotion to a reality TV pig who was 12 years her senior. I don’t want Lana Del Rey to date a left wing social worker in corduroy. Everything I do”, the woman who idly told The Guardian she wished she was dead already, the woman who said she was more interested in humanity’s “intergalactic possibilities” than feminism. This was the woman who broke out with the refrain “It’s you, it's you, it’s all for you. I’m not sure why people expected Del Rey to select a more politically progressive partner: her entire oeuvre is devoted, after all, to the regressive yearnings for self-effacement and humiliation that are inherent to heterosexual femininity.
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The fact that Del Rey was dating a cop was apparently jarring to many of her millennial fans, given that her rise to superstardom had occurred in the 2010s: an era of renewed political resistance to and political critique of police brutality and state authoritarianism. It seemed to be Del Rey’s hint that she had broken up with boyfriend Sean “Sticks” Larkin or, as he was known to Lana fans, Lana’s Cop Boyfriend (Larkin himself subsequently confirmed the breakup in a New York Times profile he most likely got because he… er, was Lana Del Rey’s boyfriend). The second, a file which was five minutes and 12 seconds long, was titled “If this is the end …I want a boyfriend”. The first was called “Grenadine quarantine 2” – in an allusion, I’m going to take a punt and guess, to being quarantined in the Covid-19 pandemic that has consumed all our lives. In a now-deleted Instagram post originally published last week, Lana Del Rey indicated via a screenshot of her iPhone voice memos that she had recorded two audio files.