lili

plasticbag

My favorite part of the lead-up period of an album is watching the aesthetic world slowly come to life, and I don't know why, but this one seems like it's gonna be really fulfilling

The only producers I've ever really wanted Lana to work with more regularly again are Dan Heath and Tim Larcombe, so it'd be super cool if she did some work with them for LDR9. I mean, she went back to her OG makeup team, so I guess anything's possible

unmanifesting

Magazine shoot is gorgeous the insights provided are very very interesting.
 
Raw, orchestra, reverb, wordy, angry, and no room for color. More automatic writing/singing which I am totally here for. Really curious to see how they translate with the orchestral compositions and further production which I am sure is to be added. It is very exciting.
 
Idk can we just take a moment to really appreciate and think about how prolific and amazing Lana is. Like 9/10 records if you count both AKA and Paradise in slightly over a decade and always quality. Like really nobody else compares or is on that level. It really is kind of awe inspiring and beautiful to witness in real time. 
 
She really has been reliving/referencing her past a lot, especially Honeymoon. It's super intriguing and makes me think they will be connected in some way. It may not be noticeable per se but just a vibe I have. Either way very excited and hoping we get some more concrete info soon but this interview/shoot has me ready lol!

I get the feeling she's been very inspired by Honeymoon lately. The last post on her main was from the HBTB music video, she returned on her Honeymoon account, she sang God Knows I've Tried in Italy (she did also sing BTD songs, but only with fans, this was the one time we know of where she chose one song to sing of her own accord), and she mentioned Honeymoon several times in the W Mag interview. Not sure what this means/how it relates to her new sound or lyrics, but those are my thoughts. 

THIS INTERVIEW WAS EVERYTHING. 
 
Her mentioning Swan Song as the song that makes her cry is very very very telling.

When I look back, tracing fingertips over plastic bags
Thinking I wish I could extrapolate some small intention
Or maybe just get your attention for a minute or two?
 
Will I die?
Or will I get to that ten-year mark
Where I beat the extinction of telomeres?
And if I do, will you be there with me?
Father? Sister? Brother?
 
Charlie, stop smoking
Caroline, will you be with me? 
Will the baby be all right?
Will I have one of mine?
Can I handle it?
Even if I do, they said that my mind
It's not fit, or so they said, to carry a child
I guess I’ll be fine
 
It wasn’t my idea, the cocktail of things that twist neurons inside
But without them, I’d die
They say there’s irony in the music, It’s a tragedy, I
See nothing Greek in it
Give me a mausoleum in Rhode Island with dad, grandma, grandpa, and Dave
Who hung himself real high
In the national park sky
It’s a shame, and I’m crying right now
I didn’t get to you, save you
If I take my life, find your astral body
Put it into my arms
Give you two seconds to cry
Take you home, I
I’ll give you a blanket
Your spirit can sit and watch TV by my side
‘Cause baby I
 
Went through a time when I felt you were doing it
I couldn’t handle it, I was in Monaco
I couldn’t hear what they said on the telephone
I had to sing for the prince in two hours
Sat in the shower
Gave myself two seconds to cry
It’s a shame that we die
 
When I was fifteen, naked
Next-door neighbors did a drive-by
Pulled me up by my waist, long hair to the beachside
I wanted to go out like you
Swim with the fishes that he caught on Rhode Island beaches
But, sometimes, it's just not your time, Caroline
 
What kind of ~~~ was she to say I’d end up in institutions?
All I wanted to do was kiss Aaron Greene and sit by
The lake, twisting lime into the drinks that they made 
Have a babe at sixteen, the town I was wed in and die
 
Aaron ended up dead and not me 
What the fuck’s wrong in your head
To send me away never to come back? 
Exotic places and people don't take the place of being your child
I give myself two seconds to cry
Let it crash over me like the waves in the sea
Call me Aphrodite as they bow down to me
 
Sunbather, moon-chaser, queen of empathy
I give myself two seconds to breathe
And go back to being a serene queen
I just needed two seconds to be me

Not the mouthful/non-melodic lyrics 

Well everyone… the time has come.
 
Welcome to the LDR9 Pre-Pre-Release Thread - Annual Discussion & Meltdown!
 
Lana Del Rey has revealed to W Magazine that a new, still untitled album is in the works.
"I’ve been practicing meditative automatic singing, where I don’t filter anything. I’ll just sing whatever comes to mind into my Voice Notes app. It’s not perfect, obviously. There are pauses, and I stumble. But I’ve been sending those really raw-sounding files to a composer, Drew Erickson, and he’ll add an orchestra beneath the words, matching each syllable with music and adding reverb to my voice. For this new music, it’s more just like: I’m angry. The songs are very conversational. For the first song, I pressed record and sang, “When I look back, tracing fingertips over plastic bags, I think I wish I could extrapolate some small intention or maybe get your attention for a minute or two.” It’s a very wordy album."
 
 
What we know so far:
- Lana will make an announcement about the album on December 7th, as stated in an Interview on November 30th, 2022
- Lana is working on an untitled album with a completed opening track, confirmed in her interview with W Magazine in May 2022
- Lana is collaborating with composer Drew Erickson, confirmed in her interview with W Magazine in May 2022
 
 
Speculations
- Neil Krug & Anna Cofone may have involvement with the album photoshoot, as hinted in various Instagram posts, stories, and comments made by the three in December 2022
- Jack Antonoff worked with Lana on a song completed in April 2022 that could be on her record, as stated in his interview with The New Yorker in May 2022
- There is a possible collaboration with Jon Batiste, as Lana shared a video in a studio with him as a song snippet played on @honeymoon in August 2022
- Ian Kirkpatrick may be involved with the production, speculated after Lana shared a picture of a video call with him on her IG stories in September 2022 
- Her father may be involved with the record as he shared photos in Jack Antonoff's studio in March 2022
- The record may be a digital-only release, per her statement during an Instagram Livestream in October 2021
- Lana wore a custom-made jacket by the director of LDR Village with a patch that said "DNC" that may pertain to the record in December 2021
 
 
 

I had a plan to listen all of Lana’s discography yesterday. When I reached NFR, I realized something. I love the idea of the songs on it, but not the songs themselves. I love the title track, MAC, Venice Bitch, think they’re great but also can’t help but feel annoyed… like they’re missing something, like they’re songs that couldn’t reach their full potential somehow. Anyway, I turned it off after Love Song.
 
My personal opinion on what Lana and Jack do together is that I love and get the idea that is there, but it seems to lack the “alchemy” Lana said to have with Dan for example. I’m not saying I want Ultraviolence 2.0, Ultraviolence was a gem on its own, but because I believe in her ability to play in new, exciting soundscapes, I do hope she finds that “alchemy” with another producer. This is just my take on the situation as a listener though and nothing else.
 
 

I feel like this was pretty important “But I’ve been sending those really raw-sounding files to a composer, Drew Erickson, and he’ll add an orchestra beneath the words, matching each syllable with music and adding reverb to my voice.”

So she says the album is untitled so far, has no color references and is very wordy 
 

Lyrics from one of the new songs
 
“When I look back, tracing fingertips over plastic bags, I think I wish I could extrapolate some small intention or maybe get your attention for a minute or two.” 

Lana Del Rey graces the cover of W Magazine’s May 2022 Vol. 3 The Music Issue.
The issue will hit newsstands on May 24th. The covers and spread images were photographed by Jamie Hawkesworth.

 
Lana Del Rey Unfiltered
With new music on the way, the singer-songwriter sits down with Gucci’s Alessandro Michele to discuss her unique creative process. 
  Sands Point, the tip of a peninsula on the North Shore of Long Island, was the inspiration for East Egg, the fictional Gold Coast setting of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Once a rural retreat for robber barons, it’s now a nature preserve that abuts a New York City suburb. But a few Gilded Age mansions still remain along the shore, among them Castle Gould, an imposing stone pile modeled after an Irish manor. These days, from the beach, instead of a mysterious green light, one sees the high-rise buildings of downtown New Rochelle. Where champagne-fueled lawn parties might once have taken place, there’s now a dog run with a chain-link fence.
A castle in the suburbs feels like a very Lana Del Rey sort of place. Throughout her career, the 36-year-old musician, born Elizabeth Grant, has turned a hazy but unflinching lens on the concept of Americana, peeling back the sunny veneer of the American dream to reveal what’s really there. On her album covers, she’s a flower child in front of a beat-up pickup truck or a passenger on a sailing yacht, reaching out for help with acid yellow nails as the shoreline burns behind her. Even the titles of her records—Chemtrails Over the Country Club; Norman Fucking Rockwell!—hint at elements of the mundane or even sinister beneath a glamorous ideal.
It’s clear that the world Del Rey builds in her music is the one she inhabits. From the minute she steps out of a wardrobe trailer looking like a modern-day Jackie Kennedy in a black Gucci dress, holding a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, she imbues her surroundings with a certain charge. And she seems to literally radiate warmth: On an unseasonably cold, damp afternoon, as production and hair and makeup teams shiver in fleeces and anoraks, she wades into Long Island Sound in a sheer Valentino gown and emerges from the gray-brown water laughing.
As she prepares to release new music—a still untitled album is in the works—we invited the musician to have a conversation with Alessandro Michele, the creative director of Gucci, who, like Del Rey, has an alchemical relationship with nostalgia. Friends and collaborators for years, they both have a talent for twisting and prodding at tropes and historical references, using them as grist for work that feels entirely fresh. Here, they discuss the creative process, finding inspiration in the natural world, and working from the heart. —Andrea Whittle
 
Alessandro Michele: We met when we first did the Met Gala together in 2018, I think? I’m not good with dates.
Lana Del Rey: That’s why we’re creatives. I remember talking on the phone years ago. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you had been listening to my record while working on a new collection.
 
I think that you are going to remain forever in everybody’s mind with that Met Gala outfit—you looked like a goddess, like a saint. When you’re a creative person, it’s beautiful to be in touch with people like you, who are so delicate and sensitive. I’m still listening to your music, and I’m dreaming with your words.
I think delicacy comes out of being in a world where people can be very rough. When someone is quick-minded and smart, it’s rare that they’re also really kind. Working with you, I could finally take a breath and let fashion be fun again, and try on different silk robes and remind myself why I loved it in the beginning. Because when I was younger, I always thought stepping into fashion would be like slipping on a gauze gown. With you, that’s literally what it was like. When we worked on my dress for the Grammys, it was a bold entrance into a bigger world, and I thought, Can I do it? Am I allowed to present myself in a beautiful way? And what I learned through you is that sometimes, stepping into beauty doesn’t provoke criticism; it invites more of an understanding, where your inside does shine out through your outside.
 
Do you remember the shoot we did for the Gucci Guilty campaign, when Los Angeles was on fire?
Ashes were coming into my car vent on the 405 highway because Bel Air was burning. We were in the Valley shooting a scene, and everyone was in gas masks, and the sky was orange, which somehow seemed perfect.
 
It was so surreal, as L.A. is surreal.
From that point on, I added fire to the hillsides in my music videos.
 
I like the way you use elements of nature—not just fire, but water and weather—in your music and your videos.
My dad is a deep-sea shark fisherman—he has been for 15 years—and he lived on a boat in Providence, Rhode Island, from the age of 15 to 18. He was also a storm chaser. In California, earth, wind, and fire are huge. All the elements are taken into consideration with my art, all the time. Which is funny, because people often ask why I sing about California. But I usually sing about wherever I am, and it just so happens that California is such a storm center right now. I mean, I’m from Lake Placid, the coldest spot in the nation. For me, the California landscape never gets old.
 
In 2020, you released a book of poetry, Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass. When you’re writing poems, is your creative process different from when you’re writing music?
There’s a big difference. First of all, to write poetry, I have to be in a really good mood and have nothing distracting or wrong going on. I almost have to be in a state of non-thought, and it can’t be forced. When a couple of lines come into my head, it’s like they’re completely channeled—I hate when people use that word, but I’ll use it. If I’m driving, I have to pull over and think, Well, where did that come from? I remember one time I had been sitting waiting for some food, and I started thinking:
Violet bent backwards over the grass
Seven years old with dandelions grasped tightly in her hand
Arched like a bridge in a fallen handstand
Grinning wildly like a madman
With the exuberance that only doing nothing can bring...
And I thought, Am I Violet? That is a family name. Is that a little bit of karmic lineage coming in? I definitely think that writing my poetry was the beginning of a more psychic, energetic opening to my family of origin. It’s also a little more nerve-racking, because the last thing you want to end up doing is sounding like Dr. Seuss. And no one can help you with it. The only person who every now and then sparks me to write is my friend Annie, because she’s so damn funny she makes me forget myself. And it’s through that act of self-forgetting that my channel is open again. All of a sudden, the first few lines of a poem will come, and I’m reminded, Oh yeah, you work well when you’re having a good time. You can’t push it. It’s a reminder to stay serene and balanced, which is really my priority: that psychological, spiritual preservation.
 
Are there any poets who have been important to you?
When I found out that Allen Ginsberg wrote Howl in a few days, and then I saw Lawrence Ferlinghetti reciting Loud Prayer, I realized that I didn’t have to go slowly to have something be good. I could work fast if I wanted to. I also relate to some of the sentiments from Walt Whitman’s work, and Sylvia Plath’s—she wrote with blatant honesty about the experience of being a woman, and the history of hysteria.
 
In the past, you’ve used colors and certain words to describe your records. Are there words or colors you’re using to describe your new music? 
I’ve been practicing meditative automatic singing, where I don’t filter anything. I’ll just sing whatever comes to mind into my Voice Notes app. It’s not perfect, obviously. There are pauses, and I stumble. But I’ve been sending those really raw-sounding files to a composer, Drew Erickson, and he’ll add an orchestra beneath the words, matching each syllable with music and adding reverb to my voice. When I’m automatic singing, I don’t have the time and leisure to think about things in terms of colors. It’s very cerebral. In Honeymoon, there were so many color references: “Sometimes I wake up in the morning to red, blue, and yellow skies. It’s so crazy I could drink it like tequila sunrise.” For this new music, there’s none of that at all. It’s more just like: I’m angry. The songs are very conversational. For the first song, I pressed record and sang, “When I look back, tracing fingertips over plastic bags, I think I wish I could extrapolate some small intention or maybe get your attention for a minute or two.” It’s a very wordy album. So there’s no room for color. It’s almost like I’m typing in my mind.
 
I remember during the Gucci Guilty shoot when you started to sing. Your voice is so evocative. I would say when I listen to your music, I don’t know why, but I get the color white. It’s like there is no color for me; it’s just light.
I’ve been told that I am a very black and white thinker, and I’m actually working on that, because I think it’s born out of being in survival mode. With Drew, as I send him my songs, I can see that my thought process is either very joyful or very “Look, this is how it is.”
 
Do you remember your dreams? Do you ever use them in your work?
I’ve only recently started having dreams that are not stressful. My dream life is this intense other life. I think that’s why I’m tired during a lot of the daytime, because my dreams are so intricate. They’re obstacle courses, and I never use them in my work. In my work, if anything, I might even be trying to calm myself down from the way my mind is churning 24 hours a day, by just talking it all through. Do your dreams dictate your creations?
 
Not really, but I think that using creativity in a very dreamy way is something we have in common. I dream a lot every night. Sometimes I try to write what I dream in a book, and I love when I feel myself wild and free, because the unconscious part of us is beautiful. I think that when you use creativity, you are in touch with your unconscious parts.
I’m a big studier of Carl Jung, who says that the only opportunity that the unconscious has to speak to you is through your dreams, or through automatic writing, which is similar to what I do when I’m singing into my phone in the mornings. He even suggests you write with your left hand if you’re right-handed, so you can see what comes up first. Because you have to write so slowly, you might end up writing, “Help!” Whereas with your right hand you might say, “Today went well. I took out the garbage, I did the laundry, I did phone calls,” and then suddenly you say, “And I really miss him. I really, really miss him.” And then you think, Oh, I just got to the heart of it.
 
In the beginning of your career, you would write lyrics on the subway late at night. Where do you write your songs now?
Well, I probably have the lowest sleep drive of anyone I’ve ever met. I have zero desire to sleep. When I lived in the Bronx, we were about maybe a half mile from a D train stop. It was always running, and you could take it to Coney Island and back. I come from a town of 700 people, and I couldn’t believe that I had the opportunity, when I wasn’t tired, to take a long walk, get a decaf coffee and a banana, whatever I could afford on a college budget, and take that D train. Now there are so many fewer words that come to me when I’m alone. I seem to need to be sitting with someone. It’s a little frustrating, because for so many years I was rich with ideas. Now I need someone to force me into the studio. Ideas don’t even come to me in the car anymore, my favorite place.
 
One thing we share is a love for Old Hollywood. What is it about that era that inspires you?
Everything. When I was younger, my grandparents would let me watch their old movies, and I related to the subtle nuances of the female characters. Not much needed to be said; a lot was inferred between the lines. When things got bigger for me and my career, I always assumed that just by me speaking and being myself, people would know who I was inherently. I learned that was not true. You had to really spell things out, and that was very hard for me.
 
When are you happiest?
When I trust my gut and follow through. I’m happiest when I see my brother and sister thriving. One of my goals is to make sure that my siblings and I are always safe. I’m happiest around my three girlfriends, Candy, Jen, and Annie, because they make me feel understood. I’m happiest when I’m lying down in the park, and I look up and I think to myself, Isn’t it beautiful that just lying on the grass and feeling the support of the earth underneath me is enough for today? I spent so much time trying to ask myself, “Why me?” and “Why this?” It’s so nice to be over that. I also love to dance. Joan Baez has a dancing party every Saturday night on Zoom, which I’m so grateful to be invited to—there’s something beautiful about dancing with very down-to-earth people.
 
Which song makes you cry?
“Swan Song.” It’s on my album Honeymoon. It’s the antithesis of hopefulness. It’s about trying to find beauty in giving up. If I had my way, I would continue to persist in all areas of my life, but it can be quite challenging because I can be too trusting too soon. The burn that can come from that really can incinerate your whole thinking life and your daily processes. At the end of every album, I say goodbye and thank you—very Old Hollywood style—and yet I cannot help but just continue to write.
   
 
Gallery:  

the ultimate 555 song for page 555 
 
 

gotta give my mommy some streaming
 

Off to the races blasting at my gym bc I’m the only person here 

I had a plan to listen all of Lana’s discography yesterday. When I reached NFR, I realized something. I love the idea of the songs on it, but not the songs themselves. I love the title track, MAC, Venice Bitch, think they’re great but also can’t help but feel annoyed… like they’re missing something, like they’re songs that couldn’t reach their full potential somehow. Anyway, I turned it off after Love Song.
 
My personal opinion on what Lana and Jack do together is that I love and get the idea that is there, but it seems to lack the “alchemy” Lana said to have with Dan for example. I’m not saying I want Ultraviolence 2.0, Ultraviolence was a gem on its own, but because I believe in her ability to play in new, exciting soundscapes, I do hope she finds that “alchemy” with another producer. This is just my take on the situation as a listener though and nothing else.
 
 

I had a plan to listen all of Lana’s discography yesterday. When I reached NFR, I realized something. I love the idea of the songs on it, but not the songs themselves. I love the title track, MAC, Venice Bitch, think they’re great but also can’t help but feel annoyed… like they’re missing something, like they’re songs that couldn’t reach their full potential somehow. Anyway, I turned it off after Love Song.
 
My personal opinion on what Lana and Jack do together is that I love and get the idea that is there, but it seems to lack the “alchemy” Lana said to have with Dan for example. I’m not saying I want Ultraviolence 2.0, Ultraviolence was a gem on its own, but because I believe in her ability to play in new, exciting soundscapes, I do hope she finds that “alchemy” with another producer. This is just my take on the situation as a listener though and nothing else.
 
 

I had a plan to listen all of Lana’s discography yesterday. When I reached NFR, I realized something. I love the idea of the songs on it, but not the songs themselves. I love the title track, MAC, Venice Bitch, think they’re great but also can’t help but feel annoyed… like they’re missing something, like they’re songs that couldn’t reach their full potential somehow. Anyway, I turned it off after Love Song.
 
My personal opinion on what Lana and Jack do together is that I love and get the idea that is there, but it seems to lack the “alchemy” Lana said to have with Dan for example. I’m not saying I want Ultraviolence 2.0, Ultraviolence was a gem on its own, but because I believe in her ability to play in new, exciting soundscapes, I do hope she finds that “alchemy” with another producer. This is just my take on the situation as a listener though and nothing else.
 
 

I had a plan to listen all of Lana’s discography yesterday. When I reached NFR, I realized something. I love the idea of the songs on it, but not the songs themselves. I love the title track, MAC, Venice Bitch, think they’re great but also can’t help but feel annoyed… like they’re missing something, like they’re songs that couldn’t reach their full potential somehow. Anyway, I turned it off after Love Song.
 
My personal opinion on what Lana and Jack do together is that I love and get the idea that is there, but it seems to lack the “alchemy” Lana said to have with Dan for example. I’m not saying I want Ultraviolence 2.0, Ultraviolence was a gem on its own, but because I believe in her ability to play in new, exciting soundscapes, I do hope she finds that “alchemy” with another producer. This is just my take on the situation as a listener though and nothing else.
 
 

Wordle 332 4/6
⬛⬛🟩🟨⬛
⬛⬛🟩🟩🟨
⬛🟩🟩🟩⬛
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

I feel like Lana’s long-term working partnership with Rick knowels produced some of her best work, where as this long-term Antonoff partnership is giving some of her most dull work. lyrically her stuff remains great, but everything post-NFR lacks seasoning