Lana Del Rey is a little like Kopparberg strawberry and lime cider. In small quantities she’s delightful but prolonged exposure leads to headaches and depression.
This chilling chanteuse has a voice to stand the hairs on the back of your neck, however, what her new album lacks is variety. It’s hard work getting to the end of this 11-track album of haunting ballads, and sadly, Boston Baby excluded, there’s few moments that continue to haunt once playback has finished. GC