‘Chemtrails Over The Country Club’ is Lana Del Rey at her most honest and reflective.

Credit: Interscope

What does a post-Norman Fucking Rockwell! world look like? Chemtrails Over The Country Club seeks to fill the wake left behind.

The body of work that Lana Del Rey has been putting out for the last decade feels like it might be in its most effusive period. Just shy of two years ago, she released Norman Fucking Rockwell!, and for those shy two years I’ve been obsessed with its autopsy of the California lifestyle dream. It felt like a death knell on the idea of its celebrity-drenched culture ever recovering, a true capturing of the hope-draining illness that is Los Angeles, its album cover adorned with a picture of wildfires burning up the hills in the background.

The cover of Chemtrails Over The Country Club is very, very different. A crisp, warm, happy image of a family dressed to the dime, at once feeling like it was taken years ago, yet also totally in the present. Much of the album’s music follows suit.

Where the nostalgia seemed to be in the undercurrent on NFR!, Lana makes it a central theme of Chemtrails, opening the record lusting and lamenting for simpler times gone by on ‘White Dress’. The sense is not to spend too much time living in the past, however; her words are powered by a need to cherish the people and places she values.

Chemtrails feels like a deliberate attempt to leave the borders of Los Angeles and return to something simpler, purer and more honest. For an artist who has made a home for the characters she plays in her music in the vapid, aesthetic-driven, wealth-ridden world of Southern California’s more affluent neighbourhoods, it’s a rewarding if intrepid change of perspective.

“The characters and imaginary narratives she played up in her past records feel distant here, and in its place is a more personal, reflective Del Rey.”

So much of Del Rey’s appeal comes from the aesthetic of her image, one that allows everyone to play the understated, melancholic West Coast socialite. Where NFR! was able to take a sledgehammer to the vanity of the world that birthed it by honing in on the sheer sadness of it all, without such a defined narrative, Chemtrails appears hindered on paper.

Which is where that album cover comes in; like a family portait, Chemtrails wants capture a more integral side. The constant love for her family, friends and childhood is abundant and nourishing to listen to, whilst the references to Americana ground it in a home-grown United States aesthetic – roadtrips on highways, stories of hometowns and visits to ranches to name a few. The characters and imaginary narratives she played up in her past records feel distant here, and in its place is a more personal, reflective Del Rey.

Much as it looks back in time, the efforts to stay away from living too much in the past pay off – there’s a contemporary nature to a lot of what it deals with. Its blend of rustic, American singer-songwriter stylisations mixed with muted electronic instrumentation give it a clean, thoughtful sound that presents everything in satisfying stillness. The occasional injection of some extra energy, especially on ‘Wild At Heart’ and on the gorgeous harmonies courtesy of Weyes Blood and Zella Day on the Joni Mitchell-cover ‘For Free’, ensure the pacing is kept at a nice idle.

‘Dark But Just A Game’ is an absurdly, deliberately cool track, packing one of her best lines to date – “And while the world is crazy, we’re getting high in the parking lot”. The trip hop beat, balanced against the melancholic chorus is so gorgeous, perfectly conveying the sense of inevitable tragedy its ‘dangers of fame’ lyrics describe. It’s my favourite track on the album so far.

These more experimental moments, including the husky vocals of ‘White Dress’, are where the record feels most interesting, whilst the hooks are sure to satisfy the majority. Those who aren’t as enamoured by her other material as myself aren’t likely to find reason to stay beyond this. Criticisms of its calmness, however, feel lazy; it’s an album for pause, necessary in the wake of something as moving as NFR!.

“Instead, the record cements itself in its rich connections to the past; the images of herself, her friends and family in beautiful dresses, out in a classically American desert, riding horses and visiting country clubs balancing nostalgia with the present. “

The appeal of Chemtrails really comes alive when you flick through the images on its record sleeve. Del Rey’s ability to create an escapism into Sad Americana that she has so gloriously achieved on her previous work is alive and well, only this time without an overwhelming sadness or an aesthetic born to thrive on Tumblr. Instead, the record cements itself in its rich connections to the past; the images of herself, her friends and family in beautiful dresses, out in a classically American desert, riding horses and visiting country clubs balancing nostalgia with the present. 

Del Rey feels like she is at once returning to a place she feels comfortable and also seeking a new perspective on what she holds dear. Without the driving force of a character to play, typical of her previous records, Chemtrails doesn’t leave a lasting impact, and certainly doesn’t make bold statement.

But perhaps, in leaving the ashes of wildfire-torn California and the all-consuming Los Angeles nightmare of her past records, a new, more honest version of herself is emerging. She gave us a record to collectively bask in the horror of what a world defined by vapidity and false dreams looks like. Now, she wants us to focus on what we truly value.

My sense is that we’ll be able to look back on this and upon on any other records she releases in the near future as one continuous era. In that timeline, Chemtrails feels destined to be the necessary moment of recovery and reflection in a wider comment on what the work of Lizzie Grant says about romanticising the American downfall.

Score: 8.0/10