the heart shaped box

I Think I Like Lana del Ray

Let’s not confuse the incessant hooks in Lana del Ray’s songs with traditional talent. Her voice is unusual, but not necessarily pretty. It doesn’t accomplish any great feats, rather, she more steers her songs with vocal tricks and maneuvers. The production of her widely-hyped “Born to Die” is slick. Her lyrics are terrible.

 ”Now my life is sweet like cinnamon/Like a fucking dream I’m living in,” is the syrupy chorus that anchors ”Radio,” a song she seems to be singing to everyone who saw her Saturday Night Live performance. Newsflash: Cinnamon isn’t sweet, Lana. Neither is the potty mouth.

Lana seems to trade in dualities; she’s touting her success with a metaphor about spices, then following it up with an f-bomb. All this in a synthetic, cuter-than-Hello-Kitty whisper that could rival the nasal-effects of Britney Spears. Yet, her next verse, “I finally found you,” is delivered in the flat, yawning style popularized by Judy Garland. Intriguing, but—which is she?

I can see Lana del Ray being remixed and played at clubs—the beats are solid and her sometimes-breathy, little-girl voice is pure sex—but other times it sounds like she’s going for this tragic, lovelorn, my-man-doesn’t-love-me-but-that’s-okay because-we-are-going-to-do-drugs-and-have-sex, Amy Whinehouse thing. The fact that her lyricism is lazy makes this last attempt seem cheap.

And yet, the songs are still good. They’re annoying—nay—she’s annoying—but they’re catchy at the same time. The melodies are fresh. Her vocal modulations keep it interesting. The instrumentals tend to rush in at just the right moment; the total effect is rich. The number of radio-worthy songs on the record far outlists the duds.

I’m not sure this record will help make Lana del Rey entirely likeable. But, like Britney Spears and others of her ilk, I bet we’ll still respect her music. Unless it’s live.

The Lonely Forest: Now and Then

A year and a half ago, I reviewed a band called We Were Promised Jetpacks at a newer music venue here in Chicago called Lincoln Hall. They were good, but I wasn’t excited to go out and review them that night. I had been having some personal problems regarding a boyfriend and his philandering.

What made the night different than other nights I covered bands was that I had arranged to meet the photographer, Mike, before the show for a drink. I often covered shows alone, and was sick of it. We had a few gin and tonics at the hall’s upstairs bar and talked shop.

The first of the three acts that night was forgettable. The second act was not.

There was a cute guitarist, and we made eye contact a few times. I didn’t read too much into it; as a band it’s hard not to see the people who are in the front row, especially those who are writing furtively in notebooks. After their transcendent set, I went to the ladies room while Mike went about introducing himself to the band. He struck up a conversation with Tony, the aforementioned guitarist, after We Were Promised Jetpack’s performance. Apparently, Mike later relayed to me excitedly, Tony the guitarist had “noticed” me. (I honestly think Mike was just trying to help ease my troubled heart that night.)

When I returned from the bathroom, Tony, Mike and I chatted for awhile at the bar. Tony’s band had just been signed to Columbia records a few days prior. He was excited and had a healthy sense of humility about it. We talked about how things would change for them; how lucky they were; what he ate for dinner last night. I left the bar that night wondering if I should have left a phone number and, more importantly, how long it would take before they became insanely famous.

Fast forward to August 2011—-my romantic troubles have been replaced by a happy relationship and The Lonely Forest has likely more than fulfilled Tony’s dreams. I hear them on KEXP every few days, and the other night they played on Jimmy Kimmel live. 

Way to go, Tony.

Read my review of Wanda Jackson in Chicago!

“When Wanda Jackson arrived onstage Tuesday night at Lincoln Hall roughly 20 minutes after her scheduled performance, the 73-year-old singer handled the situation in a manner uncharacteristic of perhaps any generation but hers: She apologized.”

Continue reading.

Check out my Sun TImes review of Belle & Sebastian at the Chicago Theatre here! http://bit.ly/aZdXCi

Steve Miller Band review up!http://www.suntimes.com/entertainment/music/chicagomusic/2464166,CST-FTR-miller05.article