Part of the intrigue of Lana Del Rey's breakout "Video Games" was its two-sided nature. It's ostensibly a love song in which the singer rhapsodizes devotion to her man ("Heaven is a place on Earth with you/Tell me all the things you want to do"), but there's a stinging quality to both the words and her blasé delivery: "Open up a beer/And you say get over here...It's you, it's you, it's all for you/Everything I do." It's unclear who's being played: the guy, who might actually think he's worth her time, or Del Rey, deluded and desperate enough to stay with somebody who's so clearly no good for her.

This slippery question of identity and intention is also, of course, what's made Del Rey the center of a national conversation in recent months. Simply put, Del Rey isn't the singer the viral "Video Games" had led people to believe she was—the "authentic" singer-songwriter ingénue plucked out of obscurity based on the merits of a DIY music video. Her Lana Del Rey persona is the latest incarnation of several years spent putting in time in the industry. Nor is she the kind of pop artist we've come to expect these days—the primetime-savvy vessel of club-ready hits. She's awkward in interviews and on stage, with a high-pitched speaking voice and vampy mannerisms, expertly imitated by Kristen Wiig on Saturday Night Live last week. She seems to be both trying too hard and not trying hard enough, stoking questions about whether she even means any of what she's singing. Continue Reading »