In the beginning, there was Lana Del Rey's 'Honeymoon'

In the beginning, the Earth was merely a void and darkness ruled. Then, Lana Del Rey said: "All I want to do is get high by the beach."

The Sept. 18 release of Lana's album "Honeymoon" is the biblical third coming of the word according to Del Rey. While significantly less energetic than her first two albums (and certainly less provocative), it celebrates her as both an artist and a character to be evaluated.

In the past, The State Press has published negative discourse on the singer, going so far as to call her and her music "shamelessly provocative and ideologically gross," "a hipster redux of Amy Winehouse" and "romanticizing domestic abuse."

Read More: Lana Del Rey's "Ultraviolence" is as gratuitous as the name implies.

In the title track, "Honeymoon," Lana croons, "We both know / that it's not fashionable to love me," but, continues on with, "But you don't go / 'cause truly, there's nobody for you but me." 

These are the first words on the album, an album without any kind of thread other than trap beats as dry as California, the color blue and a penchant for the fastidiously religious. 

Once you believe in Del Rey's direction that "there's nobody for you but me," either as reality, a brilliant media construction or a commentary on the ability for that kind of illusion to even exist, you're hooked.

I think there's one solid argument for the extraordinary ability to be manipulated by music made in 2015: six days ago, the album was streamed at 3 p.m. in Urban Outfitters stores. Selling out? Too commercialized? Welcome to the future. 

Speaking of the future, trap snares come out in full-force in songs "High By The Beach, " "Freak" and "Art Deco." Del Rey, in "High By The Beach," trains a huge rocket launcher on a helicopter full of paparazzi, shooting them down. Her complete control of her situation blew me away and is probably the coolest take-down of 2015. 

As for the trap underpinnings, well, I don't like it. Musical genres are converging (See: Miley's "Dead Petz"), but I don't think the only reason for developing as an artist should to be because it's trendy or that it will make the festival-goers happy.

Weirdly enough, "Salvatore" stood out to me on the album. It's a ballad with the usual Del Rey, uh, "quirks." She talks about dying (happily) by the hand of a foreign man. Let's be honest — we've all thought about it.  

One point for the commentary on pop aesthetic comes in the middle of the album. When I bought it on iTunes, there was a T.S. Eliot poem, "Burnt Norton," right in the middle of it. Buy the album, kids, it's worth it. 

I was bored by both "Terrence Loves You" and "Music to Watch Boys To." The message is dull and there's not even a good hook for either track.

The last track again seems to address the listener directly, as a cover of a Nina Simone song with the same name — "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood." This is my final defense for Del Rey as a masterful critique on pop music and the industry in general. 

There's a yearning, as an artist, to truthfully express what you want to express. However, we're all going to rabidly analyze, argue and misinterpret what an artist wants to convey. Del Rey removes herself completely from this by covering another artist's plea to be understood. There's no actor here, only message — Lana's not responsible for what you think about her. 

Del Rey turns your judgment of her music back to you, completing her critique and washing her hands of the album's potential to be emotionally provocative. 

Related Links:

Lana Del Rey's music filled with outdated, antifeminist ideas

Surprise Miley Cyrus album ‘Dead Petz’ a time-traveling acid drop made for the club


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