Are any of my ladies out there chummy with men older than is appropriate for your age? Do you really, really, like the movie “Lolita?” Do you look in the mirror when you cry because you think you’re kind of sexy?
What I’m really asking you here is this:
Do any of you twenty-somethings wonder how different you’d be if Lana Del Rey didn’t drop “Born to Die” in the middle of your pre-teen years?
In the same way that Harry Potter has a chokehold on the millennial audience, Del Rey has a chokehold on the girls who were wearing training bras right as her debut album broke.
Released in January of 2012, “Born to Die” was the LP that skyrocketed Del Rey to instant success as pop’s newest honeypot. You might remember the album by the Cedric Gervais remix of “Summertime Sadness” which was literally inescapable ten summers ago, and all the tacky flower crowns and red lipstick that came with it.
It was old Hollywood glamor, upstate New York Americana and one sultry voice – though it really wasn’t that serious.
“Born To Die” is the perfect snapshot of 2012, a year where “Somebody That I Used to Know” and “Gangnam Style” both had their 15 minutes of fame.
The album juxtaposed overexaggerated and cliche lyrics with an angel voice that made you want to believe them. It was truly the pinnacle of aesthetic LPs for a Tumblr obsessed era.
Its release could not have been more earth shattering in the scope of 2010’s music, and 13-year-olds everywhere were downloading it onto their iPod Touches.
Ten years after its initial release, those little girls are now women who have grown up in what I like to call “The Diet Mountain Dew Generation,” named after my all time favorite song on the album.
Del Rey was our patron saint who filled our cups with wisdom on the topics of love and desire. The hot girls version of Brigham Young.
You may be asking, “Isn’t this the same pull Lana had on audiences of all ages?” No, Emerald reader, no it is not.
When you haven’t had your first kiss yet, the topics Del Rey sings of seem much more exciting than they really are, and that’s what separates The Diet Mountain Dew Generation from everyone else. In 2012, we were impressionable little pieces of play-doh and “Born To Die” represented the fantasy of our teenage years to follow. Before we knew that sex is usually mediocre or before learning that not all men are rich, this album seems realistic.
But it wasn’t just her message, it was her look. Del Rey was beautiful, and not just everyday beautiful, she had a timeless charm.
If some washed up fad of a popstar like Demi Lovato dropped the lyrics “Pick me up and take me like a vitamin, cause my body sweet like sugar venom oh yeah”, we’d laugh her out of town. But when Del Rey baby croons these lines in “Radio”, her perfect hair and supple lips have us hooked. Hooked, I tell you.
Now, the children of The Diet Mountain Dew Generation are children no more.
In our early twenties, we’ve come to understand that “Born To Die” severely romanticized literally everything we thought was ahead of us.
Maybe we never made the boys fall like dominos, but it somehow feels cathartic to hear Mama Del Rey sing about it anyway. For me at least, “Born to Die” takes me back to a time when I wholeheartedly thought I’d live out the fantasy she sings of. Somewhere deep down, maybe I still hang on to hope that I might.
Whatever way you slice it, it’s high time Del Rey’s debut gets a resurgence as the soundtrack for the summer, now that the kids raised on it are ready for it.
