vanillaiceys

If you'll notice, the word "racist" was not used once in my post. This was intentional on my part. It's a loaded word and when you throw it at someone's fave, people become more concerned with protecting their fave than thinking "well, is what she did really racist, and if so, how can we stop it from happening again?" It stops discourse, and I think talking about these things calmly is important. Unfortunately a stan forum is probably the worst place to do this, but whatcha gonna do.
 
Intent can only carry you so far. There's a reason people apologize if they accidentally elbow you in the face - despite not intending to hurt you, they nevertheless hurt you. And once they finish their apology, they usually say they'll be more careful from now on not to accidentally elbow you in the face (this has happened to me, so it's not some weird hypothetical). The same should apply to these actions.
 
I would bet you she used it because she thought it looked pretty. She's all about ~aesthetic~. And also because there was a trend of hipster white girls wearing headdresses (see: Coachella). Even Marina and the Diamonds was guilty of this. They probably thought "this looks nice, let me wear it", but didn't realize the value it had to the culture and, moreover, the devaluation of it they were causing by wearing it in such a frivolous manner.
 
For those of you who think this is hoopla over nothing and no tribes were harmed in the making of this video, look up 'the daily nebraska lana del rey war bonnet.' A member of one of the tribes that uses war bonnets (because remember - not all of them do) talks about the significance of it and why it's not okay. She also talks about some other pop artists. Obviously, one member of a group doesn't represent the group. Still, there is such a thing as majority opinion, and most everything I've read from members of war bonnet using tribes say "this item is not acceptable to wear outside its intended purpose."
 
I'm not going to post any further because discussions about this topic tend to turn ugly, so please don't quote this post. I'll just end this by saying that if Art Deco is about AB (which I'm pretty sure it's not, wtf Lipsters), calling her 'ghetto' is tacky, at best. Plus, 'ghetto' is definitely a racialized descriptor, let's be real. When you call someone ghetto, you're not saying "you look like a Jew from the segregated part of town!" You're saying "you look like you come from a poor black neighborhood and you're trashy." "The ghetto" refers to poor black neighborhoods specifically. I've never heard anyone talk about an Asian ghetto or a white ghetto (and the trailer park isn't really equivalent). I don't think this song is racist and I don't think Ghetto Baby is racist either, but let's not pretend that 'ghetto' has nothing to do with poor black neighborhoods.

The real problem with cultural appropriation isn't that some white girl uses a bindi or twerks. Those are actually separate issues about how some traditionally "ethnic" things are considered okay if done by white people but trashy or gross if done by the people who created it. This doesn't really have a name, and it is something that should be discussed, but people call it cultural appropriation and it's not the best use of the term.
 
The issue with cultural appropriation is taking something from its cultural context, especially without permission. That's why war bonnets are a touchy symbol. They're the equivalent of earning a medal in a war. By wearing it to look "cute" or because you "feel free", you degrade it from an actual symbol of heroic bravery into a hipster trash accessory on par with flower crowns. The symbol stops meaning anything significant, and that's part of the culture that eroded away.
 
Intention doesn't really mean anything when it comes to this. All that matters is that you're using something that has special meaning, especially something sacred, and using it outside that intended context, and that by itself causes the object to become associated with the mundane as opposed to the sacred. Even if that wasn't your intention, that is the end result, and it's still harmful to the cultures in question.
 
It's a shame the discussion about cultural appropriation has degenerated into BS like "can white people use things from non-white cultures?" because that just encourages cultural segregation while missing the core of what makes appropriation harmful. Sharing is great. But sharing requires someone to offer you something. Sacred symbols are never offered to other cultures (precisely because they are sacred). There are plenty of Native American decorative items one can choose to use that are sold by Natives and have no special value. Use those. There's no need to go for the one that has an important meaning.
 
I normally try to stay away from political discussions here, but I can't stand to see discussion about appropriation be turned to "twerking! bindis!" because all that does is make people reject the concept wholesale. It is an issue. But not for the reasons most people think. Lana did appropriate the culture by using a war bonnet outside of its intended context. She probably had no intention of doing so. But actions have consequences beyond their intentions (also the 60s and 70s were full of cultural appropriation of sacred things by hippies, so don't be surprised).

There's no solid info on it being about Azealia, bye.

Bob is the cult leader that Lana was talking about   jk

I recorded a video with Lana Del Rey when she was just Lizzy Grant. Watching it reminds me that dreams come true, provided they're flexible enough to include crushing humiliation. Lana Del Rey released a new record yesterday. Honeymoon is, of course, dreamy and dramatic, soaked in Americana and nostalgia, spiked with glamorous violence and loopy nonsensicality. It is the perfect paean for a particular time in particular people’s lives—girls and boys who need a soundtrack for well-outfitted daydreams and cloudy morning-afters.
Every time she releases something new, I rewatch an old video of us tooling around a trailer park in New Jersey on a frigid morning several years ago. Lana went by Lizzy back then, and Lizzy is giggly, wearing a cute little silk jacket and entirely unbothered by the weather. I’m interviewing her, bundled in a long wool coat and an ugly hat I’ve owned since the seventh grade.
We pass a trailer roped off by police tape.                                                                                       
“Did a crime happen here recently?” I asked. My voice is pitched quiet and low, which is how I speak when I’m nervous. I’d never conducted an interview before.
Molly is filming us and she is terrible at it. The video swoops and shakes as she walks and laughs. Molly was a friend of a friend, a cool girl who lived in a gorgeously ramshackle apartment way out in Williamsburg and always had great clothes and dapper boyfriends. I’d tagged along to a Thanksgiving dinner at her place once, where she stuffed the turkey with black truffles and I made awkward small talk with a man who had a Britney Spears sleeve tattoo. 
Onscreen, I say, “We are in New Jersey.”
  “We are, thank God,” Lizzy laughs.
  We walk through the frame, years younger and stupider and fresher, wearing clothes we no longer own, going back to apartments and jobs that no longer exist. Normal people walk along the edges of the video, and I remember them pointedly ignoring us.
Molly kept yelling “Cut!” like this was a real thing we were doing.
    It was a horrifying time for me.
I’d just quit music. From children’s choirs to teenage musicals to singer-songwriter stuff in my early twenties, my identity was built on my dream of “making it” as a famous musician. Sometimes, in my current job, I get cover letters that start with “this has been my dream my whole life.” I was that kind of asshole.
The problem was, I wasn’t any good.
The world had not made a secret of this. I wasn’t progressing like my talented friends, who were starting to get traction with producers and audiences—but it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize it, the knowledge growing unnoticed in the back of my brain like an alien mass.
The trailer park was next to a highway, behind a Dunkin Donuts knockoff. Lizzy was waiting in the parking lot when we got there...  The night I first knew I had to give it up was suitably dramatic.
I was friends with a music industry guy named Bob. He’d been the keyboard player of a band that toured with Aerosmith—or someone like Aerosmith—in the ‘70s and then I’m pretty sure he’d played with Stevie Nicks during the solo cocaine years in L.A. He had signature glasses and five ex-wives. He surrounded himself with girl singer-songwriters—I was one, and so were a whole host of girls who never got famous either, but Lizzy was one as well along with Stefani Germanotta, though she’d started calling herself Lady Gaga by that point. I think. I didn’t write anything down because I had no idea it’d be worth remembering.
   
Bob hosted shows at a Manhattan venue started by a famous actor to meet chicks. It worked—the actor married one of the bartenders—and the place has since been shut down and remade it something more family-friendly.
To be fair, it was never that edgy or sexy or weird. Sometimes on Tumblr, I see kids talking about the early days of Gaga as if it was the bad old days of New York, as if we were crawling through the Lower East Side with needles sticking out our elbows, turning tricks for guitar strings.
Please. Everyone wore Uggs.
Anyway, I was sitting at this venue, drinking house vodka straight because that’s what I drank in those days because I was cheap with control issues and I didn’t like anything pleasant cluttering up my alcohol. I watching Stefani writhe around the stage. She was going to be famous. Even I knew that and I have the worst music industry instincts of anyone I’ve ever met. When Stefani said she was going to write more dance music, I tut-tutted because we were going into a recession and people don’t like dance music in recessions. I’d seen a few Behind the Musicson grunge.
In an alternative universe, “Just Dance” didn’t happen because some idiot listened to me.
But in this universe, Stefani was clearly going to be huge. A&R reps were crowded along the edges of the room, leaning forward and sweating in their button-downs and artfully distressed jeans, ready to sign checks.
I was sitting next to Lorraine who was a songwriter.
“So I was talking to my agent the other day,” Lorraine started as if we’d been having a conversation all along.
“Yeah.” Sip.
As the myth went, Lorraine had been signed to a contemporary Christian label in the early ‘90s, all poised to be the next big crossover star, when they discovered she was living in sin with a Jewish man and dropped her. They’d kept her around as a songwriter and she’d written a big hit for DC Talk or Jars of Clay or someone, but she wanted to be a star in her own right.
“He said fifty is the new twenty.” She’d dusted her eyelids with glitter and the glitter was working its way down her face, settling into her wrinkles. “I mean, it makes sense. We’re living longer. We’re hitting our stride later.”
Another sip of vodka. A big one.
“I’m going to start a band,” Lorraine said.
That’s when I knew it was time. All of those A&R men crowded around the room had already passed on me. And if I wasn’t going to be Stefani, my only other option was Lorraine, halfway through my life and still waiting on validation that was less and less likely to come.
I quit. The music industry wept.
The music industry did not weep.
No one noticed actually, and I just slunk off into the ether without telling anyone. I was embarrassed. I was the first one in that group to quit, the first one to wave a white flag, and I should have persevered because that’s what you did when you had a dream. That’s what you did when you really wanted something. You toiled at it year after year, like Lorraine, hopelessly devoted, even if you had nothing to sustain you but the dream itself.
I was pinwheeling, arms flailing and pulling at anything shiny for a new creative North Star, when I was included on a group email from Molly asking if anyone had any interview ideas.
Molly’s dream was writing. She was making it happen as the editor of a website for a magazine that had been so, so cool in the ‘90s and was trying to reinvent itself as the new Gawker. I read her email and thought, if only I could go back in time and redo my whole life and maybe make writing my dream. I still answered her, feeling like a fraud, to see if maybe she’d be interested in an interview with my friend Lizzy who had a record coming out.
Molly asked if we could also film a video. Video was going to be the next big thing. Lizzy had lived in a trailer park while working on her record, so maybe we could film there? White trash was also going to be the next big thing.
She did not question my credentials or laugh in my face. I did those things, quietly, to myself, because it felt like apt punishment, to leave something I had loved and wanted for something I wasn’t even sure I liked.
I asked Lizzy if she’d be up for a video. 
“Of course,” she said. Because she had always been, fundamentally, a nice person.
“How about 9 a.m. on Sunday?” she suggested, because she was also fundamentally a strange person. Going to the frozen hellscape that is New Jersey at 9 a.m. on a winter Sunday sounded reasonable to her.
Out of all of Bob’s girls, Lizzy was my favorite. We went to the same college—different campuses but still, the same school. We both liked Coney Island and old New York. She had a particular way of articulating her consonants that made her words feel very purposeful, which I liked.
And she was talented. I had everyone’s demos but Lizzy’s was the only one I actually played. I certainly didn’t listen to my own—I was trying to sound like Leonard Cohen but my songs came out like reheated Jewel. If you ever come across those tracks, you should skip them as well.
The trailer park was next to a highway, behind a Dunkin Donuts knockoff. Lizzy was waiting in the parking lot when we got there. I stopped in to get a coffee cup to clutch in the video because I was freezing and nervous and my hands were shaking a little. Before we started filming, she took the hand not holding coffee and squeezed my fingers, hard.
I ask terrible questions in the video. Jessica Hopper from Spin once described them as “tepid,” which is far kinder than she could have been. The night before, I was too nervous to sleep so I walked over to Penn Station at 3 a.m. and stood in Hudson News reading all of their magazines, like I could soak up how to interview by osmosis, until the clerk woke up and yelled at me.
In the video, Lizzy is wearing cartoonishly glamorous fake eyelashes.
“Tell me about these eyelashes,” I ask onscreen.
“I can only say, I wouldn’t be without them,” Lizzy giggles. My own eyelashes were frozen to my cheeks. I put on my sunglasses, which look ridiculous in the video. Everything looks ridiculous in the video.
Afterward, we all took the train together and filled the space between New Jersey and New York with the conversational detritus of women in their twenties. Molly liked my boots, I liked her haircut, we both liked Lizzy’s silk bomber jacket. We should all hang out, get coffee and maybe do a book club. We all needed to read more.
And then we went out into the world— me a failure and the two of them striding nobly toward the stars. Go boldly in the direction of your dreams! If you can dream it, you can achieve it!
Of course, it all broke.
Molly’s dream ended when she got sick of New York, quit her job, moved up and out and up into a life of purpose. She went to law school, learned Spanish, and became an immigration lawyer in Arizona.
Lizzy’s first record bombed—before the success, the acclaim, and the namesake Mulberry bag, she was a failure. When she started crafting the magnificently well-plotted Lana Del Rey, I wrinkled my nose and said, I don’t get it, because again, I have terrible, terrible music industry instincts. Lana happened to stick, but Lana launched out of a crater.
And I’m a writer and editor. It has never been the wistful, glittering carrot of a Dream in the way music was. Writing is a much more fluid goal, growing and shifting to fit wherever I am in life, how much money I need, who wants to hire me, whatever bullshit I happen to find interesting at any given moment. It is an adult plan. I was too stupid to realize it at the time but the necessary shredding of my childhood goal was not a wrenching betrayal of self; it was a healthy and normal part of growing up.
I click play again and we amble through the frame. Everything about that period in my life is sepia tone by default—the venues I played are gone, the musicians I ran with are scattered, but I’m really only nostalgic for us, these sweet idiots committing our fumbling to posterity. There we are on video, trying so hard, hurling forward into certain failure and about to be all the better for it.
 
 
http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/09/19/lana-del-rey-s-trailer-park-days-my-time-with-lizzy-grant.html?via=mobile&source=twitter

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH IM SORRY BUT I FUCKING LOVE HER SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALL IVE BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST DAY IS VOMIT BUTTERFLIES AND SCREAM THAT I ADORE HER I JUST CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE IDK WHY I LOVE HER THIS MUCH BUT ID DO ANYTHING FOR HER FOR REAL ANYTHING IM SO THANKFUL FOR HER EXISTENCE I CANT BELIEVE IM STILL ALIVE BECAUSE OF HER I LOVE HER SO MMMMMMMMMMMMMUCH

yeah, I mean, listen to BE and Cola, it's not her voice! She never done anything like that live, you know? She's a great singer, but that's not her voice
 
(sorry for the bad english, it's not my first language) 

yeah, I mean, listen to BE and Cola, it's not her voice! She never done anything like that live, you know? She's a great singer, but that's not her voice
 
(sorry for the bad english, it's not my first language) 

Yeah, I know that, Lana have amazing high notes, I'm talking about the hook (idk if this is the correct term), you know? 

yeah, I mean, listen to BE and Cola, it's not her voice! She never done anything like that live, you know? She's a great singer, but that's not her voice
 
(sorry for the bad english, it's not my first language) 

I feel like the instrumentals are inspired from UV
but vocals are similar to BTD (Religion - Without You/Ride, GKIT - Million Dollar Man...)
 
So it's a kind of mashup?

I don't feel like it's either tbh, it's more like a mix of the two than a continuation of either.

It's Honeymoon 1.0.

OKAY NEVERMIND ugh he talks superrrrrrr fast in some parts    i'm like "slow downnnnnnnn mon cheri, slow downs!" 
 
but here's what i have so far... 
 
i'm not a native French speaker but i have been studying it for a long time so i thought of giving a shot at the translation  
 
Q: Hi Lana! Thank you for being here, so do you believe in ghosts? 
 
A: Well, it's funny that you ask. i met a very famous psychic in L.A without me telling her who i was, she knew everyone that i knew who had passed over to the other side and she told me little things about their personal lives. 
 
Q: The ghost of Billy Idol, in the form of a hologram; the ghost of Whitney Houston, in the form of a hologram, soon in concert, does that intrigue you? 
 
A: You know, now that you've asked, i've heard a couple different opiniosn about it. because i know some people think it’s a little bit disrespectful to, in some ways, raise a fake spirit from the dead but as a fan and a sprititual person, i think i could see it being really interesting 
 
Q: And that, Lana, does that interest you? To someday have a hologram of yourself [i think he implies like after she dies lol] 
 
A: Well, over the years, me and my manager fought over many tours and i always asked them if i could send them a hologram of me but i think, until this year, the technology would be expensiive but you know 
 
Q: this question about holograms maybe will allow me to ask you a question about technology, Lana, has it already occurred toyou to live in a virtual world? Just to cut ties with the world or at [be] the edge of the world? [3:45] because your songs show/demonstrate that...
 
A: Yeah, i know what you mean lately i’ve been feeling a little bit of merger between the future and the past in the world. i think especially because i’ve been so interested in how fast tech is moving and having met elon musk and heard everything he’s said about artificial intelligence and how fast it’s moving. i’ve been thinking a lot how my sound fits in tothe future 
 
Q: Maybe you’ll hologram yourself? 
 
A: *giggles adorably* Maybe! You can see me!
 
*plays a bunch of songs from btd and then some from ultraviolence* 
 
Q: if you remember, Lana, you released Video Games on Youtube about four years ago which has over a hundred million views today. are you getting fed up with this song? 
 
A: tired of it? um no, i don’t know why i;m not tired of it, i really should be. i think because i sing so many songs on tour that it feels like one of them. 
 
Q: he brings up Born to Die and then he talks about ultra violence, more sombre and how it was “more rock” and now she's returned with  “honeymoon” which is sort of like a return to what made her successful in the first place [~6:45] and he basically asks: do you agree with this statement/observation? 
 
A: yeah i think a little bit it came back to the roots with production. but it’s new in the way it’s closer to who i really am because it has its roots in jazz. at least for about five tracks. 
 
Q: Honeymoon? 
 
A: Well i mean i love beautiful words, i love that word in particular, like i loved ultraviolence. nd i love the idea of bringing up tje most romantic time in somebody’s relationship and kind of living in that mood 
 
Q: this project…. *** ugh i’ve listened to this part like 10 times and i can’t figure out the last word he says, can a native translate this part? but he basically asks her if she thinks she’s accomplished her artistic goals with the project (~7:55)
 
A:  well i think i wanted it to be. i don’t think i’m there yet but i’m reaching i feel like there’s a lot of room for me to have an even more beautiful life so i’m reaching for it 
  I was trained in literature and writing and stuff but not translation so i did the first 8 minutes or so of the translation   like i understand what he's saying but i can't translate. sometimes it's hard to translate even if you are fluent  

On Doing “Ride” With Rick Rubin
 
I was writing that Paradise edition, and originally was writing it as a follow-up record, but nobody wanted to release something eight months later. It ended up being a re-release-slash-second edition, and I loved this demo I did with Justin Parker, who I wrote a lot of things with like “Video Games” and “Born to Die,” “National Anthem,” and Ferdy Unger-Hamilton at EMI hated the song. So I think him and Rick had been talking and Rick was like, “What’s going on with Lana? Can she come over, I hear she’s in L.A.” I think I had been over to say “Hi” to him first. Just to say “​hi.” We took a walk in Santa Monica—he takes the same walking route every morning. Then a few weeks later I brought him “Ride,” and he really liked it. Working with him was good, I was still in my old car, my old Mercedes that was barely making it down that hour-and-a-half drive down to Shangri-La Studios in Malibu, and it was really good. He has this sprawling lawn with all these bunnies and palm trees. He was very relaxed. It was good.
 
On the Most Important Person She Ever Shared a Cigarette With  
Probably my manager, who is still my manager, Ben Mawson, over the last four years. He doesn’t smoke anymore, but he used to smoke more than me and drink 12 beers a day. I met him, he told me to just come to London and I did. I just went and met him. I think they were at Shoreditch House, so we went on the roof and had a cigarette. He felt like I was really worried about everything, and he told me that he had a plan and that everything was going to go OK and not to worry. He was very aggressive, and he was such a believer. So probably with Ben, I guess.
 
 
On Making Art Vs. Satisfying the Major Label Machine 
I came in in a unique position in that “Video Games” had so many views, and that was the reason why Jimmy Iovine at Interscope and Ferdy Unger-Hamilton at Polydor had called me on that day and wanted to revisit the record and hear it again.
So I got signed on great terms because the discussions we were having were that it was always going to be my way. I liked coming from this DIY place where if I had a single that they really felt like they wanted to put money behind or promote—I liked knowing it was an option that I could make my own video at home for it, like I did with “Video Games.” Eventually I tired of that, graduated to working with other people. But in that way I was in a really good place after the record was done with its cycle.
I think the label was half-and-half on this record [Ultraviolence] because there were a lot of jazz undertones and West Coast references. I think they were happy that I was happy with it and that I made it. I don’t think they felt like there were singles that could work at radio. And I kind of felt that, because I have such a good relationship with Jimmy and Ferdy. I’ve been working, “working” [makes air quotes], singing, for years. So the people I’m closest with are like my product manager and the video commissioner, because they’re really good girls. The A&R guys—Larry Jackson and John, if I go out at night I probably go out with them. We’re pretty flexible with each other, but it always come down to differences. For example, the bonus tracks on this record I didn’t feel like had any relation to the atmosphere of the record itself. I think iTunes was like, “You would have trouble promoting a record if it didn’t have a deluxe edition,” so, there’s stuff like that.
 
 
http://www.complex.com/music/2015/09/lana-del-rey-interview-outtakes/?utm_campaign=complexmag&utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social

Anthony Fantano tends to give female artists a lot more of a hard time, with the exception of Twigs maybe, particularly Lana but thats not news

I think I'm going to have to camp out.

I'm almost 100% she says: "I'm not simple, it's trigonometry"
 
Seems like a weird line but its what I hear

the fact that she just goes blueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblueblue at that one part

I know. 320kbps is the highest quality for mp3 files, not for itunes tho. But I was talking about that saavn stream site. They had all songs available at 64kbps as lowest and 128kbps as best quality. Every single leak on the web atm is 128kbps. If anyone thinks they have 320kbps, it's converted from 128 to 320. We can be satisfied with this, it's pretty decent for listening. Album is coming out in itunes quality really soon.
 
And all of you who downloaded the leak... Please support Lana and buy your copy of "Honeymoon". It's not about sales, it's about support & loyalty.

I compressed it as a zip, which is why it is 88 MB. Give it a listen though, and the quality's all there

I hope it's about dick

I hope it's about dick

I hope it's about dick