With the “in-between” Euphoria episodes that were made for Rue (Zendaya) and Jules (Hunter Schafer) a.k.a. “Rules” to tell their sides of the story in the wake of a dramatic train station denouement, Billie Eilish was given an opportunity to craft a song especially for the occasion with Rosalía, called “Lo Vas Olvidar.” The show itself was already awash in the narratives of an Eilish track, she merely saw fit to finally tailor something for it—“it” being Euphoria and Gen Z’s simultaneous brand of horrification and malaise. And yet, lest y’all fuckin’ forget, millennials were at the helm of perfecting that steez in the post-2000 internet age (while Gen X was stuck perfecting it with flannel and Nirvana). One millennial in particular, of course, was Lana Del Rey, when she burst onto the scene in the most millennial way possible (via the virality of a video for “Video Games”).
Now somehow viewed as the “original Billie Eilish,” Del Rey is stepping in to throw her own lyrics down for the show (which she also should have done for a James Bond movie before Eilish got her vocals on that, too). And yes, come to think of it, maybe this season does make one reassess the notion that Euphoria is actually an LDR song. Complete with the drama, the devastation and the overall cinematic aura (something the chanteuse actually reached an apex with most overtly on 2015’s “Salvatore”).
Like most Del Rey jams, this one is slow as well—and repurposes a phrase—“rock candy sweet”—Del Rey had originally intended as the name of the album that would become Blue Banisters. That’s the thing with Del Rey, she’s always filing away words and phrases that might be used later (Woody Allen style—except Allen likely won’t ever get a chance to use any of his filed-away ideas again). And it is indeed kismet that a phrase like this one should end up being reserved for Euphoria, what with its drug-addled characters enjoying, among so many other substances, crystal meth. This is, after all, Florida.
Then there is the exploration of a doomed relationship, Del Rey’s area of expertise when it comes to songwriting. What’s more, considering that she had her breakthrough with a record that was entirely about her first great, all-consuming love, it’s only right that she should revisit that kind of intensity on a track geared toward the relationship narratives in Sam Levinson’s world. Enter “Watercolor Eyes,” an ideal title for referencing the importance of makeup application in this show. The Del Rey die-hards will also note the parallels between this and having another song about eyes for a soundtrack, specifically 2014’s Big Eyes (Del Rey offering a track of the same name, as well as another called “I Can Fly”). Not to mention the significance of constantly ending up crying over someone. Whether because they overdose or they abandon you.
Co-produced by Nasri, Drew Erickson, Dean Reid, Michael Harris and Adam Ayan (Del Rey loves her sausage in the studio), the effect of the drugged-out, languid sound is immediate as Del Rey proceeds to lament, “Why’re you always doing that?/Breaking up with me, then making up/Just to make me mad.” Anyone who has ever been in a so-called toxic (sometimes known as “torrid”) relationship will understand the pain of these lyrics. As well as the sentiment, “Why do you leave me with watercolor eyes?/Young love don’t always last forever.” This obviously alludes to the dynamic between Rue and Jules, a duo that, although very much in love, can’t see past the fact that the intensity of their feelings for one another won’t be enough to stamp out some glaring issues that will come to roost time and time again. Most especially Rue’s drug addiction, which, as of season two, she’s still concealing from Jules, allowing her to believe she’s not using to the extent that she is.
Just as drugs have been a constant in Del Rey’s oeuvre (e.g. “Yo soy la princesa/Comprende these white lines,” “Come on down to Florida/I got somethin’ for ya” and “All I wanna do is get high by the beach”), so have they been in Euphoria. The match is natural. Whereas, surprisingly, Billie Eilish never went the route of romanticizing drugs by way of intertwining them with the high of a relationship, instead writing them off as the source of all eventual agony and loss (hear: “xanny” and “bury a friend”).
A more “out of nowhere” line in “Watercolor Eyes” with regard to the narrative of the show is, “Why’re you always doing that?/Playing guitar while I’m sleeping/Acting like a brat.” Here, Del Rey’s parlance/use of the word “brat” makes her sound like some kind of “old-timey,” out-of-touch millennial. Soon to be the case for many as they transition into a new age bracket. Nonetheless, the timeless quality of most of her music remains—perhaps precisely because she continues to lift so many lyrics that are actually from a different time. In this instance, she references The Rolling Stones’ “Wild Horses” by ruing, “Wild horses can’t keep us together/So what if you taste just like heaven?/That don’t make it right.” In contrast, Mick Jagger, who was, in turn, alluding to something Marianne Faithfull said after overdosing (again, it’s one big circle jerk of everything going back to drugs being a stronger pull than true love), sang, “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
Del Rey turns that notion on its ear, instead suggesting that continuing to pursue someone like they’re a drug themselves can only result in greater emotional damage in the long run. Evoking a pretty picture as she always does with some usual keywords (including, at one point, “sweet” and “beaches”), Del Rey describes that combination of agony and ecstasy as follows: “Hot summer and cold watermelon/Your love stings like blood and a lemon.” This is the essence of Euphoria, wherein the characters derive an almost masochistic pleasure from the pain because, well, at least it connotes they’re still able to feel anything at all.
