Listening to any one of these songs is sufficient to determine whether you'll enjoy the album, which doesn't necessarily mean that they all sound the same. Rather, Lana Del Rey is the holder of the music industry's most credible claim to a singular identity, a characteristic that has the win-win effect of repulsing dummies and raising her to veneration beyond comparison in the eyes of the faithful. The effect is similar to finding that entirely unknown artist who was somehow communicating your exact emotional state, but the artist happens to be internationally recognized and the you've now spent years in the headspace. Lana fandom, Lana listening, Lana life is thus communicable to an extent that few others attain, simply on the strength of its philosophical world-building. Can you imagine what a listening party for this thing would look like?

Surely there's a collective name for Lana fans (Lanadvocates? Del Reydioheads?), but as someone who's not quite there the introduction of features is a welcome break from tradition. First, because there's now a Lana Del Rey and Stevie Nicks song, a wonderful bit of self-awareness that on its own warrants re-consideration by the unconverted. I haven't had time for A$AP Rocky since 2013 (or whenever the Pretty Flacko remix dropped), but Playboi Carti is an inspired inclusion - I could listen to him whet / what-ing for hours (and have, shouts to his album), and look forward to his rebrand as a Fruity Loops percussion plugin once his moment begins to fade a bit.

It's the right leap forward, scarcely re-treading any already-tilled soil - a neat sidestep, as the Ultraviolence era especially, lovely as it was, remains under constant threat of full-on adoption by those bad, dark bars that take their whiskey lists incredibly seriously. Thank god; as down as I am to commiserate with my fellow Lana Fauna (there it is!), I need a moment before I can hear this thing out in public.

Highlights: Love, 13 Beaches, Beautiful People Beautiful Problems