Dear Lana Del Rey,
It’s not like anyone actually reads this blog, but I feel compelled to let you know that you are appreciated. All the haters, mainly self-proclaimed hipsters that live off their parents trust funds and wouldn’t know what a hard day’s work was if it slapped them in the face, don’t know what they’re talking about when it comes to you.
Everyone seems to be in a tizzy; like their panties are in a bunch or their skinny jeans are just too damn tight. They seem to believe they’re entitled to say your album isn’t good or talk trash about you because they’re jealous. They’re jealous because not even mommy and daddy’s money can make their pseudo band that performs in a bed bug infested apartment become successful. Okay, maybe I’m being a bit harsh on them, but who are they to complain about you?!
Your music is like a breath of fresh air, the first snowflakes on a winter’s day, the taste of perfectly brewed coffee in the morning. I’ve been listening to your music on YouTube since last year, and now with the full album being out for a week, I may or may not have drained my iPod battery on multiple occasions. I keep trying to decide what my favorite song is but it’s really an eight way tie between “Off to the Races”, “Blue Jeans”, “Video Games”, “Diet Mountain Dew”, “Radio”, “Summertime Sadness”, “Without You”, or “Lolita”. Deciding just makes my head hurt.
I’m also trying really hard to remember you. We went to Fordham at the same time and may have even had a class or two together but I just can’t remember you, Elizabeth Grant. I’m sure I wasn’t memorable either; it was hard enough trying to keep track of all the homework we had.
Either way, I think you’re great. Anyone who got turned off from you after your Saturday Night Live performance should get a hobby because really, SNL isn’t as important in pop culture as it used to be now that Tina Fey is gone. But you represent the future of pop culture- a singer who can make her name known on the Internet with a sultry voice and intriguing music videos. You managed to sell out the Bowery Ballroom 1 minute after tickets went on sale back in the Fall. Trust me; I’m still bitter about not being able to see you live.
Next time you come back to New York, I better be in the audience with real fans. If any haters are around, I’ll be the girl getting into a fight on stage left.