In an odd turn of events that, like bankruptcy, happened gradually then suddenly, Taylor Swift has managed to out-Lana Lana Del Rey, leaving the latter somewhat in an identity crisis from the looks of her latest video and single. While Del Rey would never admit such a thing about that “other” singer-songwriter, it was bound to happen, of course, with the two sharing a producer. But Antonoff belonged to Tay Tay long before he did to Lana, and perhaps that loyalty is only just now becoming fully apparent.
Even if we try to imbue meaning that is not there into the schizophrenic video that is “Chemtrails Over the Country Club,” the best that could be attempted is that in a seemingly perfect world of white folks living in the bubble of their country clubs, there is the ever-looming and ominous presence of chemtrails (hence, duh, chemtrails over the country club) threatening the perfect veneer. Complete with white people activity cliches like golf (you know who else likes to golf? The Orange One). And beneath the pristine facade of the people who inhabit this world of affluence are wolves in pastel clothing, as we can pretend Lana wanted to make very literal at the midway point of the video (with a tornado blowing through around the 2:55 mark that prompts a tonal shift). With her recent obsession with the Midwest, the twister that alters the mood can only be a subtle homage to the region and, of course, to Dorothy Gale.
As the wolf “plot” intensifies, she stays true to her “I wear my diamonds on Skid Row” philosophy by donning her pearls in the dirt as she writhes around with her “friends of color.” This is before they all stand in front of Lana’s now burning red car as though it’s some sort of ritualistic sacrifice for California itself. Suddenly, it seems these she-wolves are also vampires too, in yet another confused aesthetic that finds Del Rey trying desperately to combine a hodgepodge of imagery that has worked well for her in the past, but here, it’s what Cher Horowitz might call a “big ol’ mess” (on a side, note, throughout most of the song’s visuals, you half-expect Cher’s voiceover to come on with, “Okay, so you’re probably going, ‘Is this like a Noxzema commercial or what?’ But seriously, I actually have a way normal life.” This, too, is what Del Rey appears to want to assure us of with her friend group in an opulent setting).
In another black and white scene (again, this can only be an homage to the black and white versus color contrasts of The Wizard of Oz), Del Rey is back in her Benz, being swept up into the tornado, in an instant that comes across as highly metaphorical for her own ongoing car crash: a constantly escalating media backlash over the course of her career. Part of the criticism often tends to come from Del Rey’s romanticization of an era that, more and more, seems barbaric for its, shall we say, decided lack of inclusivity. To that end, Del Rey driving around in a vintage red Mercedes wearing white lace gloves and hanging out at some private Estate with a pool doesn’t really scream “relevant!”
Apparently not lying when she told Q Magazine (RIP) in October of 2019 that the theme of her album boiled down to, “I only think of star signs for the next thing I’m doing,” she is sure to mention many times, “My moon’s in Leo, my Cancer is sun.” In addition, she seems to call out ex-(cop) boyfriend Sean Larkin with the lyric, “You’re born in December and I’m born in June.” Lest we forget, the contents of this record were written when the breakup was still fresh. Even so, a new breakup didn’t seem to give her much in the way of new emotions or subject matters, with many of the motifs presented echoing the imagery of “Venice Bitch,” as well as other tracks on Norman Fucking Rockwell. Namely, when she croons such things as, “We laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool/It’s beautiful, LSD, normality settles down over me/I’m not bored or unhappy, I’m still so strange and wild,” or mentions, “White picket.”
This is the idyllic yet somewhat resigned narrative that heavily punctuates “How To Disappear,” on which Del Rey nostalgically remarks, “I’ve got a kid and two cats in the yard/The California sun and the movie stars/I watch the skies getting light as I write…” But, more than anything, the lyrical parallel of “Chemtrails Over the Country Club” rests within “Venice Bitch” by way of, “You’re in the yard, I light the fire/And as the summer fades away/Nothing gold can stay/You write, I tour, we make it work/You’re beautiful and I’m insane/We’re American-made.” This last pair of lines could have easily been played over scenes of the Capitol riots, while also being a precursor to LDR making her pronouncement, “I’m not unhinged or unhappy, I’m just wild.” Sounds like the perfect excuse for just about anyone these days… to do pretty much whatever they want.
More astrology allusions abound when Del Rey makes reference to water and air signs with, “You’re in the wind, I’m in the water” (as well as being an unwitting nod to that adage from Ever After, “A fish may love a bird, but where would they live?”). And yes, speaking of water, the pool scenes are laid on thick, like some sort of stylized ad for an expensive real estate community. And perhaps Del Rey, previously name-checking the “upper echelon,” has herself been too long in it to notice that she’s lost touch with the common (wo)man. For there is a difference between glamorizing glamor and living the insulated lifestyle Del Rey is currently depicting. Of course, because of the plague times we live in, we can all be accused of a similar insulated perspective, albeit with slightly less mention of “turquoise” and “jewels.”
Even if the BRTHR-directed video was something resembling “innovative” (girl, you know Shakira and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina already pulled this lycanthropy storyline), Del Rey decided to go ahead and cock up any good will for it with her usual martyr-centric attempt at “getting ahead of the PR spin.” That is to say, for someone accusing the nation of a dangerous narcissism problem, Lana herself was more than a bit guilty of it with her since deleted Instagram comment, “I’m literally changing the world by putting my life and thoughts and love out there on the table 24 seven. Respect it.” Lizzy, dear, please do not fucking flatter yourself. You are not David Bowie. Or even, at this point, Taylor Swift.
Still, she managed to find a phantom leg to stand on long enough to tell BBC Radio 1, “The madness of Trump, as bad as it was, it really needed to happen [did it though?]. We really needed a reflection of our world’s greatest problem, which is not climate change [um, actually it is], but sociopathy and narcissism. Especially in America. It’s going to kill the world. It’s not capitalism, it’s narcissism. I was surprised we didn’t have a live television psychopath crazy person as a president a long time ago because that’s what we see on TV and that’s what we see on Instagram.” Ah yes, Instagram. Where Del Rey in particular likes to cause a similar oblivious-in-her-own-narcissism splash. Ergo, to further detract from any perceived “pithiness” to her statement, Del Rey managed to reference the political unrest/failed coup of January 6th as a means to promote her album via the caption, “There’s always turmoil and upheaval and in the midst of it-there’s always beautiful music too introducing my new album chemtrails over the country club [insert wilting rose emoji here].” Okay… your album has absolutely nothing to do with what happened, and trying to make it seem like some panacea for the societal ills of America is rather, well… narcissistic in its presumptions. We get it, art is important–absolutely imperative–for coping. For finding some beauty in the tragedy of existence. But honestly, darling, did you have to make it so much about you?
The next comment that came was a real doozy, and here it is in full (complete with the requisite spelling and grammatical errors), before it was kiboshed: “I also want to say that with everything going this year! And no this was not intended-these are my best friends, since you are asking today. And damn! As it happens when it comes to my amazing friends and this cover yes there are people of color on this records picture and that’s all I’ll say about that but thank you. My beautiful friend Valerie from Del Rio Mexico, my dearest friend Alex and my gorgeous friend Dakota Rain as well as my sweetheart Tatiana. these are my friends this is my life [a sentiment already echoed in 2017’s “Groupie Love”]. We are all a beautiful mix of everything – some more than others which is visible and celebrated in everything I do. In 11 years working I have always been extremely inclusive without even trying to. My best friends are rappers my boyfriends have been rappers. My dearest friends have been from all over the place, so before you make comments again about a WOC/POC issue, I’m not the one storming the capital, I’m literally changing the world by putting my life and thoughts and love out there on the table 24 seven. Respect it.”
There is so much wrong with this statement. But apart from the obvious “Black folk love me because I have some ‘rapper’ [arrogant euphemism for Black] friends” defense, how did we make the leap that anyone who didn’t go to the extreme of storming the Capitol is inherently good? That’s like saying, “Well, I’ve never stabbed a man, so you can’t call me a bad person.”
Del Rey’s continued foray into the careful cushion of “white spaces” (like the country club) is something she seems subconsciously at odds with as she makes these vague attempts at being “fringe” in the video. And maybe, on some level, she just wanted to create her own little episode of True Life: I’m A Furry (a nod to that time someone asked her if she was one). Even if only for a small portion of the child-plagued video (catering to “the kids’ swimming pool” line), co-starring Logan Laurel (the girl who takes center-stage at various moments, whether sitting with Lana in a “screening room” or in the bedroom in front of the vanity mirror). Perhaps it’s a signal to Del Rey’s own rumored fiancé, Clayton Johnson, that she wants to get started on pushing them out as soon as possible. What with her missed calling as a doula and all.
Chemtrails themselves (featured throughout the early stages of the video) are a long-standing source of sinister conspiracy theories. This renders their presence rife with poetic symbolism at this particular moment in time. Being that QAnon was (and is) the driving force behind so much of the catastrophe that hath been wrought over the past week. The phobia most conspiracy theorists have regarding chemtrails is that it is a vast government-manipulated enterprise designed to control weather (maybe that’s why the weather Del Rey shows us is so erratic) and the human population, plus its psychology. Sounds like a perfect recipe for someone to interpret this entire concept as LDR’s cry for help from being brainwashed into a clueless Karen.
Talking of that, Del Rey, not ever one to back down on being called out for things she doesn’t feel she should be ashamed of, brings back that illustrious mesh mask (that turned out to have an invisible protective covering underneath it). The one she wore to her Barnes and Noble reading in October for a reading of Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass. It’s donned as an overt biting of her thumb at those who would accuse her of being a superspreader. While she might not be of germs, she certainly is of something else. Though, honestly, based on this video, it’s not quite clear what anymore. The message has been so overly distilled that it’s as lost as Lana when overtaken by a tornado.
