In an era where image, aesthetic, and persona rule all, Lana Del Rey is an emblem of pop iconography, withstanding scrutiny over the years for her desire for both anonymity and notoriety in the public eye.
She first came to mainstream fame with her infamous Saturday Night Live performance in 2012, where many criticized her for her performance abilities and confusing musical background, mocking her for completely rebranding herself and making her public identity a “character.”
But what exactly does that mean? How is “Lana Del Rey” a character? Is it a character, or was it a vehicle to create a new life for herself?
Your dose of fabulosi-TEA
Subscribe to our newsletter for your front-row seat to all things entertainment with a sprinkle of everything else queer.
Lana’s career has been a fascinating journey marked by a carefully curated blend of nostalgia, melancholy, and glamor. Long before the flower crowns, pouty lips, and Americana anthems about daddy issues and “hot summer nights,” she was known simply as Lizzy Grant, a humble songwriter from Lake Placid, New York, who sang in bars and lived in a trailer park.
Her long-lost first album, Lana Del Ray A.K.A. Lizzy Grant, is a masterclass in understanding how this enigmatic pop artist became the modern icon she is known for today, and that transition is something queer listeners have flocked to, finding resonance in the public’s misunderstanding of her pursuit in making her life a work of art.
Before she became the cinematic pop icon and queer icon we know today, Lana Del Rey was Elizabeth “Lizzy” Grant, an emerging artist with a vision that was as distinctive then as it is now. Her debut album, Lana Del Ray A.K.A. Lizzy Grant, originally released digitally in 2010, offers a glimpse into the nascent stages of her musical evolution.
Lana Del Ray A.K.A. Lizzy Grant wasn’t the singer’s first foray into music—Sirens, an album under the May Jailer moniker, preceded it. However, A.K.A. marked her debut on a record label and was her first commercially available album.
The origins of A.K.A. can be traced back to 2006 when Lizzy wrote “Pawn Shop Blues.” Her performance of the song in a songwriting competition caught the attention of Van Wilson, a talent scout for 5 Points Records. By 2007, Lizzy had signed a multi-record contract with the label.
Initially working with her then-boyfriend Steven Mertens, the album underwent significant changes before its final form. Early recordings, under the working title God Bless America, were largely scrapped. Lizzy’s collaboration with producer David Kahne eventually defined the album’s sound, which she described as “surf noir.”
The final masters were completed by February 2008, with a provisional release set for February 14, 2009. However, delays and financial issues at 5 Points Records postponed the release, which finally happened digitally on January 4, 2010.
Despite initial enthusiasm, the album’s buzz dwindled due to the delayed release, and it was pulled from purchase within three months and has since only existed online through old files.
Lana bought the rights to the album before her major-label debut in 2012 with Born To Die, further adding to its mystique that matches the album’s eerie sensibilities. While rumors of a re-release have persisted for the better part of a decade now, the album remains a rare “collector’s item” that is cherished by die-hard fans (like most of Lana’s unreleased music that has since leaked online).
The album sonically sets the stage for elements Lana would eventually become known for. It’s a cinematic experience, reflecting her affection for nostalgic elements like Coney Island, trailer parks, America and black-and-white movies. This nostalgia, often with an eerie tinge, is central to her style, and reflected in her homemade music videos, which were crafted by blending videos of herself taken on her laptop and spliced with B-roll film from decades past.
Promotional photographs highlight her platinum-blonde hair and mod-style makeup, featuring washed-out colors reminiscent of earlier decades. Heavy on Americana themes, including images of surfing, carnivals, and Lizzy dressed as Marilyn Monroe or wearing an American flag.
A.K.A. showcases Lana’s heady, jazzy voice reminiscent of a 1950s nightclub singer, with music highlighted by burlesque-style drumming and cascading Wurlitzers. It also incorporates modern elements, with some tracks featuring electronic beats and vocals that slide into whispers and minor chords, evoking artists like Courtney Love and Fiona Apple.
Described as glam/surf/Hawaiian on Grant’s MySpace page, the album evokes a cinematic and nostalgic atmosphere, transporting listeners to a dreamy, mysterious, and sometimes sultry world filled with streamers, neon lights, and kitschy motels.
Track-by-track breakdown
Kill Kill: Opening with haunting vocals and cinematic instrumentation, “Kill Kill” sets the tone for the album’s exploration of Americana and personal longing, crooning about a relationship that is dying while mending blues and electronic elements.
Queen of the Gas Station: This track showcases Lana’s knack for storytelling as it blends upbeat melodies with whimsical lyrics about life on the road, putting her debutante, nomadic character study center-stage.
Oh Say Can You See: A somber reflection, this track’s sparse production highlights Lana’s evocative lyricism and eerie vocals that linger throughout the record. Inspired by the “Star-Spangled Banner,” America’s national anthem, “Oh Say Can You See” hints at Lana Del Rey’s recurring theme of patriotism and historical symbolism, as seen in her later song “National Anthem,” hinting at what’s yet to come.
Gramma (Blue Ribbon Sparkler Trailer Heaven): With its nostalgic and vivid imagery, “Gramma” is a tribute to Lana’s grandmother Madeline. In an interview with Index magazine in 2008, Lana shared: “I remember telling my grandma, ‘I wish I could meet someone.’ And she said, “When I was young, we didn’t have the chance or the choice to try and see a lot of people– you had to meet a man and that was kind of it– but don’t be afraid to meet everybody.” And I thought, you’re the first person in my family who’s ever made me feel like it’s okay to want to try and find the right thing.”
For K, Pt. 2: Though many iterations of this song exist online, the version that exists on A.K.A. is a sweet, slow burn that delves into complex emotions, combining introspective lyrics with layered production.
Jump: Featuring an upbeat tempo, “Jump” contrasts its lively sound with themes of escape and freedom, while delving into drug addiction and using many lyrical elements found throughout Lana’s discography in the future (palm trees, Cadillacs, heroin, etc.)
Mermaid Motel: This song’s lush, atmospheric production and mesmerizing vocals paint a vivid picture of escapism and fantasy, capturing the essence of the world Lana created for herself during this time in her life.
Raise Me Up (Mississippi South): Another more upbeat offering that is a nod to Southern roots, this track’s soulful melody and lyrics evoke a sense of pride and elusiveness.
Pawn Shop Blues: One of the earliest songs written for the album, its raw emotion and stripped-down arrangement make it a standout even today. With themes of letting go, chasing success and fame, and being willing to give up everything just to “know what God knows,” it encapsulates much of Lana’s initial journey as an artist.
Brite Lites: With an energetic beat and catchy chorus, this track features almost spoken vocals and a shifting, rambling melody that tells a tale of a vivid love affair set against the backdrop of Hollywood.
Put Me in a Movie: The most provocative song on the album, its lyrics and dreamy soundscape reflect Lana’s fascination with fame and a “Lolita” complex prevalent in much of her earlier work.
Smarty: Written in-studio with Kahne, this track’s playful lyrics and upbeat rhythm add a whimsical touch to the album, but with a dark twist, as much of it is alluded to an abusive relationship.
Yayo: Closing the album, “Yayo” is a haunting ballad that has seen several re-recordings, even being officially released on Lana’s third EP, and second major-label release Paradise in 2012. The track captures an ethereal and melancholic scene described by Kahne as “a film noir trailer park escape to bright futures on a stranger’s motorcycle.”
The album feels like a mix of watching an old movie, taking a peek at a life path Lana could have taken. The album was written during her time living in a trailer park in New Jersey, and this 2008 Index Magazine interview offers a glimpse into her life back then.
Though backlash has persisted throughout Lana’s career of people accusing the singer of lying about not having money, thus her rise being inauthentic, when listening to this album and taking a deep dive into Lana’s past, you’ll find that she “had nothing” because she was trying to gain independence from her parents. She carved her own path and left them behind in order to live the life she wanted and become the artist she is today.
She sought true freedom in order to express herself in the ways she always wanted, and this record encapsulates that raw, world-building sense of artistry that is evocative to the care Lana has continuously put into her music and image. It’s not an act, nor is it technically a character, it’s the life and name she forgered for herself, and this sentiment is all too familiar for queer people who may have once sought the same.
Perhaps that’s why these songs hit so strongly in the hearts of LGBTQ+ fans who have given it a listen and been transported to the world she built. It allows us to experience someone’s life during a lonely yet creative time through melodies and imagery of her own design.
