Lana Del Ray

With extraordinary production she presents her exclusive ability to be wonderfully weird and somehow in another place. Disconcerting and odd certainly but will it mature like wine or be consumed and disregarded remains to be bolted down. One certainly hopes so, she brings a patently unique stamp to her genre, which itself may indeed be its very own little subcategory I think that Rickie Lee Jones once occupied but maybe not as cutting as Julie Cruise.

[update] since first impressions and ignoring the media hype her management has achieved granting her a stamp of indy sufferin’ credibility and stories of her millionaire father behind the scenes inferring her talent was thus suspect – but listening to her myspace page is reassuring that this is media games. Her music holds up in produced circumstances, her recent performances I think were directed as part of her image. One she does not really need but it is an entertaining one. She styles herself as through she was a brand of expensive cigarettes invented in a David Lynch movie. Her music is a strange mix of Jim Morrison, Bjork and Johnny Cash. She has a pleasing voice with a fake fairy whisper and edges to it.

Originality rating: ****

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