Gone are the old money aesthetics, the Cadillacs, sail boats, and palm trees that featured in her early album imagery, replaced with another American ideal: the white picket fence. An enormous southern gothic house takes over the stage, complete with a front porch, garden and enough musicians, backup singers and dancers to fill it. When Lana arrives, it’s whenever she wants (a different time each night, somewhere between the 8:30 and 9:15 point, so seemingly random that the venue haven’t bothered putting set times out) and it isn’t the grand entrance you’d expect at Wembley Stadium. Hidden inside the house, she starts with the unreleased ‘Stars Fell on Alabama’, revealing herself half way through to deafening screams, then onto one of the only tracks from this project that are released ‘Henry Come On’, and a cover of Tammy Wynette’s ‘Stand By Your Man’. An unconventional start, but when has Lana Del Rey ever played by the rules?
The setlist, when revealed on night one of this tour in Cardiff, divided fans. Some were puzzled by her choice to play so much unreleased material to such massive audiences, others defended her right to play her favourites. If there’s anything undeniable about this show though, it’s that none of that matters when she steps on stage. Despite their collaborations and omnipresence in pop culture, Del Rey is sort of the anti-Swift in that she’s never been a people pleaser. Not even for her fans. But they worship her all the same.
When ‘
Chemtrails Over the Country Club’ kicks in, it’s warmly welcomed, followed by cult favourite ‘Ultraviolence’. They’re tracks she’s done time and time again, but they, maybe unexpectedly, blossom in a stadium. Complaints about the setlist feel misguided; it’s a strong run through of Lana’s greatest hits, and there are more than you’d think. ‘Ride’ and ‘Video Games’ come in as an early burst of energy, and within the context of the rest of the show, the country storytelling in their lyrics feels like this was perhaps always where she’d end up.
There’s some sort of story being told with this set, but even in its grandeur, it’s unclear what that is. A hologram appears in one of the house’s windows and it sings ‘Norman fucking Rockwell’ and ‘Arcadia’ for her. An affecting performance of ‘Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Blvd’, with its extended outro led by a trio of singers whose powerful voices contrast with Lana’s delicate chorus refrain, makes for a stunning centrepiece, leading into the unreleased ‘Quiet in the South’ and a burning of the house on stage. For a second, it feels like this might be where the new era is revealed, from the ashes of the last one, but after reciting Allen Ginsberg’s ‘Howl’ poem offstage and a quick costume change, it’s back to the classics with ‘Young and Beautiful’.
While ‘Summertime Sadness’ and ‘Born to Die’ are as magnificent as ever, it’s the late addition of ‘Venice Bitch’ that garners the biggest reaction. Then she welcomes support act and pop’s next it girl Addison Rae to the stage to cover Rae’s track ‘Diet Pepsi’; Lana’s been an inspiration for much of today’s rising pop crop, with her evocative storytelling and wistful vocal delivery. When the two perform it together, there’s no denying ‘Diet Pepsi’ read the Del Rey textbook and aced the test.
The show ends on cover from the Great American Songbook, John Denver’s ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’. It’s another choice that baffled fans on night one, and maybe they’ve forgotten, but Lana has always had an affinity for covers; even ‘
Norman Fucking Rockwell!’, widely regarded as her magnum opus, included a bizarre cover of Sublime’s ‘Doin’ Time’. For all of this show’s oddities, it’s sort of everything you’d expect from a Lana Del Rey stadium tour. She’s an artist who’s consistently made headlines for her live performances, be that good or bad, and the divisive nature of this tour is no different. But isn’t that exactly what makes her an icon? Before it kicked off, it was hard to imagine what a Lana Del Rey stadium show would look like; by the end of it, it was obvious: pop’s most quietly rebellious star taking on some of the biggest audiences of her career was always going to be on her own terms.
