It would definitely be worth inventing. In case she hadn't been born on her own. To invent Lana Del Rey. Do not indulge in anxiety - you are spared the tedious enumeration of her awards, her albums, her videos and her sweethearts.
Let's talk about metaphysics.
Rock 'n' roll has long been the light of the stars.
We contemplate its glow, hear its breathing, think of its images, while he himself, the generous herald of the "era of energy and excesses," long ago rested in the Bose. Not as a style, but as an image of the Great Unfulfilled. In fact, why would there be such love for Lana Del Rey? To this languidly majestic, gloomy procession of shadows are past grievances, past sorrows, past "past". Unreliable men, unreliable love, and the world itself ... It's not very well cut - if you look at it through a glass and cigar smoke. You can reconcile with him, yes, live for love - that's excuse.
It was supposed to appear.
We had to come up with it.
We are. All those who are alien to falsehood and momentariness: "Take even more, rake, and let everything fall out of your hands - so what! And that's right, passed through the sausage apparatus of show business, rock and roll, like Rome, plundered by barbarians, remains the center of attraction for wanderers of eternity, looking for an answer in the bottomless silence of emptiness. Rome is silent. However, like rock 'n' roll. Of course! After all, we are almost our own gods! Any vinyl with "gold junk" will be delivered, unpacked and thrown under the needle. And we will dissolve in what was the rebellion of generations, but became the background of megaburgers and milkshakes that kill not even a horse - the very essence of being.
We're going to make rock 'n' roll sing and jump on the stage of our lives. But we will not be able to climb it and ride with him. This untimely, stupid and some kind of extremely absurd loss that Lana Del Rey has been mourning for a year in a row with maniacal consistency and enviable perseverance.
Don't you hear the funeral march?
It's all dulling of hearing from commercials - they go right over you.
One day she departed from the canon and challenged. Norman Rockwell himself, the creator of the magic mirrors of America, the creator of the very mirrors that prolong both life and youth - while you look in them. They say that old Rockwell did not accept the challenge, did not consider it necessary to bend down and raise the lady's glove. Old Rockwell was tired. And his mirrors now reflect the shining nothingness. There is no ageless and eternal America. There is no love. There are no those two - boys and girls - and a puppy behind them that look, embracing, at the huge, golden, half-sky moon.
There is nothing.
There is a requiem by Lana Del Rey.
As it always happens, if a master gets down to business, you won't find a better requiem. This is truly the immortal Ultraviolence of 2014 - it can be assumed that it will be used in the voice acting of the finale of our civilization.
This is a painfully tender, touchingly crazy Norman Fucking Rockwell! 2019: how modern it is to challenge graves.
"I showed the America I knew and observed to others who might not have noticed it," Rockwell said.
"I've always wanted everyone to like my job. I could never be satisfied with the approval of critics or a handful of soulmates. I painted pictures about which I knew that everyone would like them and everyone would understand them ... "- so said Rockwell.
"As I grew up and realized that the world was not the most pleasant place I thought at first, one unconscious decision was born in me that determined my whole life: even if the world is not perfect, it still has to be just like that, and that's how I'm going to draw it!..," Rockwell said.
His America did not take place. Thank God, he himself did not see this, having gone back in 1978 on a journey from which there is no return. And so Lana Del Rey, who came into the world in 1985, obviously, once (perhaps she was 15), flipping through his absolutely divine illustrations, still could not understand: "So where, where is this damn America drawn by you ?! Answer immediately, or I'll do something to myself!!!"
There is none.
And it's too late to look for the guilty.
Maybe there is no Lana Del Rey.
It's just that the angels chose one of their own to tell us a sad story about naughty boys and girls... And the name... It's just a pretty name.
Listen to decent music.
Remember that time will devour everything and itself.
There, in the trembling darkness "after", there will be only love - nobody's own, dissolved in the atoms of the primordial world ...
Wop bop a loo bop a lop bom bom!..
The author's point of view may not coincide with the position of the editorial board.