Lana Del Rey is trading in her alter ego for Elizabeth Grant, ditching an air of mystery to get to the crux of her humanity in this 77-minute record.

Yes, it’s finally here. 

Del Rey’s release was pushed back two weeks, though there were short-lived plans to wait until August, and it officially launched on March 24. 

(And the music may be the least exciting part of her ninth studio album). 

Del Rey surprised fans by announcing the upcoming album in Dec. of 2022, while subsequently revealing the cover art, releasing the title track and unveiling the one and only billboard to promote the record…in her ex-boyfriend’s hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Del Rey keeps us on our toes, though. There was a huge assumption that the album would develop into a “hating exes” manifesto, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, especially when the title track spends more time with Harry Nilsson than any failed relationships.   

And in spite of the fact that she employs the sultry, vintage voice that fans have arguably missed since “Norman F— Rockwell!” to sing lyrics like “this is the experience of bein’ an American whore,” Del Rey spends most of her time singing about philosophical subjects. 

The album spans from her family and death (“The Grants”) to motherhood (“Sweet” and “Fingertips”), cracking pottery metaphors (“Kintsugi”) and many more instances of familial deaths, both figuratively and literally.  

However, with deeper meanings to Del Rey’s personal life in the record come the controversies that have surrounded her for years.

“Grandfather please stand on the shoulders of my father while he’s deep-sea fishing” couples a whispered, yet unapologetic voice and white privilege with lyrics like “…a white woman, but I have good intentions, even if I’m one of the last ones.”

It may have been better to let this lyric pass her by, especially with the criticisms that she’s faced for responding to allegations by simply insisting she’s not racist, but she’s committed herself to a certain level of personalized honesty with this album. These lyrical styling choices may not be as shocking when we take the whole record into account. 

There are some odd choices in this album, too, including two interludes. The stranger of the two is certainly the “Judah Smith Interlude,” which is about a pastor’s sermon about fidelity and the occasional sound of someone’s – presumably Del Rey’s herself – laughter and approval. 

The “song” set to a somber piano could have easily been cut from this entirely too long record, but the end makes sitting through the four-and-a-half minutes all worth it. 

“I used to think my preaching was mostly about you…I’ve discovered that my preaching is mostly about me,” Smith concludes, swiftly answering all of the audience’s questions about this new album’s meaning from an artist whose previous discography can best be described as aestheticized.  

The other bizarre choice that Del Rey makes for this album is a song dedicated to praising co-producer Jack Antonoff’s partner, Margaret Qualley. Nonetheless, it’s easy to disregard its oddity when the audience is still reeling from lyrics in “Candy Necklace” like “sittin’ on the sofa, feelin’ super suicidal…I do feel like it’s you, the one who’s bringing me down.”  

Overall, the record is in a category of its own. Although there are small throwbacks to the ghosts of albums past, like the line “cinnamon on my teeth” that stems from a fan-favorite, references in the last track to “Venice Bitch” and familiar chords from her beloved 2019 album on “A&W,” Del Rey’s “Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd” is unlike anything she’s put out before. 

There’s a good reason for that, though. Del Rey spoke to Billboard earlier this year about how her relationship with creating music has changed. 

“Eleven years ago I wanted it to be so good,” Del Rey said. “Now, I just sing exactly what I’m thinking.” 

Honestly, die-hard fans may not love this album. Although, with a record that debuted at No. 3 in the United States, that’s something the fans should decide for themselves, especially since this was the only reasonable evolution for Del Rey in a world searching for authenticity. 

This album marks a new era for her, and with a career spanning over 10 years in this fickle industry, she’s up for the challenge.