Perhaps the only other “pop star” who has been able to get away with noticeably long (a.k.a. more than three words) titles for single names is MARINA’s Tumblr counterpart, Lana Del Rey (see: “Hope Is A Dangerous Thing For A Woman Like Me–But I Have It”). While both women have their devoted fanbases, we know there is a certain risk in remaining forever “under the radar” (compared to, say, Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo) when one makes this artistic choice to eschew “brevity.” Chemtrails Over the Country Club falling off the charts fairly quickly was pretty strong evidence of that whole “overly long title” thing not being helpful for mainstream success (then again, neither were Del Rey’s “Karen” tendencies over the past year). MARINA feels a similar lack of concern as well in choosing a name like Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land for her fifth record.
And why shouldn’t she? The strength of her work has long allowed her to call the shots with all of her projects. As is the case with the “visualizer” element of the video for “Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land.” The effect of this series of montages interspersed with Marina herself dancing about makes for a decidedly “found footage” vibe à la early era Del Rey (“Video Games” and “Carmen,” most specifically). And it’s something MARINA also showed a predilection for on 2019’s “To Be Human.”
But with the freshness of MARINA’s spin on things—perhaps so fresh from a literal standpoint because of her fondness for nature (therefore the presence of images like butterflies, mountains, ruins [lest you forget her Greek heritage], etc.)—the video passes as far more than just a “visualizer.” And indeed, it’s more like hybrid video/visualizer, in the spirit of “Purge the Poison” (which is more aesthetically aligned with “Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land” than “Man’s World”). Seeing where MARINA took her album photoshoot from with the moving images of it present throughout, her mid-/late 90s look (something about it absolutely screams Aqua’s lead singer, Lene Nystrøm), complete with metallic blue and silver costumes, are part of what lends her a Charlie’s Angels (sorry Ari, Miley and Lana, there’s a new angel about to take over) meets Bond girl flair (here, too, Billie must step aside).
The Bond girl evocation in particular is created when the silhouette of MARINA’s iconic figure is placed against the backdrop of a colorful, patterned tableau framed in a circular shape. And it makes sense—for you can take the woman out of Britain, but you can’t take Britain out of the woman, hence this perhaps subconscious pop culture allusion. Talking of being a woman, MARINA’s feminist overtones throughout this single are also more manifest than ever. She’s no longer going to tolerate being defined by her gender—or corporeal form in general—as she sings, “I am not my body, not my mind or my brain/Not my thoughts or feelings, I am not my DNA/I am the observer, I’m a witness of life.”
So should we all be, while also subsequently taking action based on that which we see around us. Kind of like a Charlie’s Angel, which is surely where this subtle aesthetic nod must come from in the video, most apparent when polychromatic silhouettes bounce off MARINA’s true physical form in the spirit of the signature titles from this staple of a 70s TV show.
MARINA’s decided “in touchness” with the past—whether the not so far-off twentieth century or the primordial essence of prehistory—is what lends her the conviction in the overly modern present to declare that we need to truly get “back to basics” if we ever want to have any hope (a dangerous thing, like Lana said) of realigning ourselves with some modicum of spirituality and higher consciousness. That much sought after sense of “oneness” that we’ve all lost sight of in our bid for economic glory.
With MARINA herself describing the musical tone of the album as more “in your face” than ever before, the aggressive rhythms of “Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land” pick up where “Purge the Poison” left off in terms of goading the Establishment. This is also made evident in lyrics like, “You don’t have to be like everybody else/You don’t have to fit into the norm/You are not here to conform.” The idea of MARINA once again remarking upon how we’re living in a “seminal age”—one that provides what feels like a final opportunity to make a conscious shift in how we live and what we prioritize—ties in with her revelations in “Purge the Poison” regarding how “nothing’s hidden anymore/Capitalism made us poor.”
Here again, she urges the masses to think about how they want to behave “moving forward” from the pandemic as she reminds, “The walls are being broken/And we’re ready for change.” Not climate change, but social change.
