#in my defense the g ones are based on my vague memories of watching g when it aired

[thebladeblaster]

I suddenly decided to make this tier list of the antagonists

Note: This is strictly them as antagonists and not characters.

I used a template and added Psychi because I feel like he should count. Poor Aichi is on the list more than Ren oof. I would add Suo but he doesn’t feel antagonist enough and I am not caught up with season 2 of DivineZ.

Edit: Somehow I forgot E and skipped to F.

[lanadelreyfiles-blog]

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness: A Conversation With Lana Del Rey. On the eve of her fourth album, the pagan pop star sounds more content than ever. How did she get there? Interview by Alex Frank for Pitchfork. Famous artists are notoriously late, but when I arrive about 20 minutes early for an interview at Lana Del Rey’s Santa Monica studio, she is ready for me, offering a handshake and a smile. It is the week before her new album, ‘Lust For Life’, will be released, but she seems unhurried and relaxed; when I ask if she’s been busy in the leadup to such a big day, she says “no” with a laugh, as if she knows she probably should be. She is not dressed like the glammed-up mystic you see in music videos and photographs: her hair, long and brown, is tied functionally behind her neck, and she is in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, with cream canvas sneakers and white ankle socks on her feet. Right away, she invites me through a side door into the inner sanctum where her brooding songs are created. For Lana acolytes, this is a mythic place. She has recorded here since 2012’s ‘Born To Die’, her major label debut. It is a beautiful room filled with sun coming in from a skylight and two windows, the opposite of the average dank music studio. It looks a bit like how you’d expect Lana Del Rey’s workplace to look: vaguely and warmly retro, with dark wood cabinets and a mid-century-looking painting with interlacing geometric shapes hanging on the back wall. In the center of the room is a scratched-up leather club chair with a Tammy Wynette album cover facing it. (“I always have Tammy there,” she says of the country singer best known for her ode to everlasting devotion, “Stand by Your Man.”) This chair, and not the actual booth in the front of the room, is where Lana sits to record her vocals. “I get red light fever in the booth,” she says. She likes that the studio is by the beach, where she’ll sometimes go to listen to mixes of songs on her iPhone. The studio is owned and operated by Rick Nowels, her longtime producer. He has come down today to listen to the album with us, a pair of sunglasses firmly on his face. Nowels has more than 20 years on Lana, who is 32, and he inhabits something of an uncle role, making the songwriter a bit bashful when he sweetly refers to a ballad called “When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing” as a “masterpiece” for its lyrical message about the importance of finding ways to have fun, even in the Trump era. Gearing up to record what would become ‘Born To Die’, Lana had met with a number of producers who all tried to tell her what she should or should not sound like, with some encouraging her to ditch the breathy vocal style that would become her signature. When she finally met Nowels, he didn’t want to change a thing. “I went through a hundred and eleven producers just to find someone who says ‘yes’ all the time,” she says. “Everyone is so obsessed with saying ‘no’—they break you down to build you up.” Lana is a studio junkie—’Lust For Life’ is her fourth album in about five years. She says a day that she works is better than a day that she doesn’t. Nowels tells me that even though the new album isn’t out yet, she’s already making new music. “If I get a great melody in my head, I know it’s a gift,” she says. As we sit down to listen to ‘Lust For Life’, she is clearly at home: Like a good host, she offers me her comfy leather singing chair and instead curls up on a blue velvet couch nearby. She has a familial rapport with not just Nowels, but engineers Dean Reid and Kieron Menzies, who she credits again and again for making her work better, and the four of them ruminate on mastering, making jokes about Lana’s perfectionism when it comes to the final cuts of her songs. The album, like all of her work, is fastidiously and emphatically Lana in its sound and atmosphere: a haze of lazy pacing and flowery melodies, conjuring a foreboding backdrop for lyrics about summer and antique celebrity icons and dangerous, dissatisfying relationships. Front and center in the mix is her voice, which has a crooner’s tone and an especially wide range, from deep and low to high and sharp. Most pop stars rely on reinvention to retain relevance, but her output is remarkably consistent. She says her main criteria is whether or not a song sounds like it will transport listeners to somewhere else in their minds. On each album, the skeleton remains more or less the same while she infuses her work with stylistic elements from different genres, from rap to rock to jazz. ‘Lust For Life’ draws from folk and hip-hop, two genres that she says she loves because they both privilege real storytelling. The new record is a departure in key ways, though. In the past, Lana has become famous for themes that are, at times, hopeless: toxic romance, violence, drug use, despair, aging, death. This isn’t to say every song she has ever recorded is a downer, or that she hasn’t displayed a knowing sense of humor about her reputation. But her relentless obsession with the dark arts is a reason why her fans love her with an almost religious fervor; she’s had issues with people breaking into her house. “They want to talk,” she says chillingly. Her menacing themes have also led to resistance at certain moments from larger audiences who, perhaps trained to think of pop music as a tool of empowerment and empathy, just can’t face her nihilism. While ‘Lust For Life’ certainly has its share of grim moments, it is not as much of an avalanche of gloom, and perhaps offers signposts to a happier future. At times, Lana even approaches uncomplicated joy, like on first single ‘Love.’ The album also contains some of her first songs that deal with a universe larger than the tangled intensity of one-on-one relationships—there are tracks intended to be balms and battle cries for trying times, which, like many Americans, she found herself fretting over constantly during the 2016 election campaign. And for the first time on any Lana album, she’s also opening the door to a number of guest vocalists: A$AP Rocky, Playboi Carti, the Weeknd, Stevie Nicks, and Sean Ono Lennon on a Beatles-referencing song called ‘Tomorrow Never Came.’ “I FaceTimed with Yoko, and she said it was her most favorite thing Sean’s ever done,” Lana says.

After listening to the album, Lana and I peel off to a small office on the other side of the studio for our interview. Before we begin, she pulls out her iPhone to record the conversation along with me, a defensive move she’s taken up after years of feeling manipulated and harangued by the media. When answering questions, she is at turns thoughtful and strident, seriously considering topics like her attempts at a brighter life and how Trump has affected her love of Americana, and also entirely unafraid to bat away questions she finds boring or irrelevant. At one point, she laughs so hard at a silly sidebar in our conversation that she has a coughing fit and has to take a break. She says she binge watches ‘The Bachelor,’ and that while all of her friends now call her Lana—not Elizabeth Grant, her birth name—her parents are the two people who do not. She is wry about the new song ‘Groupie Love,’ in which she writes herself not as the star but in the role of a worshipful devotee: “Old habits die hard—I still love a rock star.” When I ask her if she is bothered by TMZ dating rumors, which have recently speculated about her relationship with rapper G-Eazy, she gives an unexpectedly goading answer: “They’re usually true. Maybe where there’s smoke there’s fire.” Which is to say: She’s kinda regular, not the hardened artist we’ve heard in her songs, but someone, it would seem, who likes to hang out and chat about life and music. Talking about good times brings up memories of rough ones, and when the conversation veers towards rocky terrain, she reveals an artist-and a person-at a pivotal moment. — A few years ago you were singing lyrics like “I have nothing much to live for,” and now you’re smiling on the cover of ‘Lust For Life.’ How’d you get to a happier place? Lana Del Rey: I made personal commitments. — Commitments to what? LDR: Well, they’re personal. [laughs] I had some people in my life that made me a worse person. I was not sure if I could step out of that box of familiarity, which was having a lot of people around me who had a lot of problems and feeling like that was home base. Because it’s all I know. I spent my whole life reasoning with crazy people. I felt like everyone deserved a chance, but they don’t. Sometimes you just have to step away without saying anything. — Your past albums often presented a claustrophobic universe made up of just you and one other person, but all of a sudden it’s like you’ve got your eyes wide open and you’re looking at the world around you. Developmentally, I was in the same place for a very long time, and then it just took me longer than most people to be able to be more out there. Being more naturally shy, it’s taken stretching on my part to just continue to integrate into the local community, global community, to grow as a person. Also, getting really famous doesn’t help you grow with the community. It’s important to have your own life. It’s hard with how accessible things are. Hacking? E-mail is just a no for me. I do a lot to make sure I don’t feel trapped. — Your fans are famously obsessive. Do they ever cross the line? They fucking have. Someone stole both my cars. All the scary shit. I’ve had people in my house for sure, and I didn’t know they were there while I was there. I fucking called the police. I locked the door. Obviously, that’s the one in one-hundred-thousand people who’s crazy. But I [had a hard time sleeping] for a minute. — Fame can be isolating, but you are making a real effort to not let it be. It’s going to be isolating. Period. Unless you stretch past it. But it takes so much footwork. Getting over the uncomfortability of being the one person in the room who everyone recognizes. The last few years, I’m out all the time: clubs, bars, shows. For years I was more quietly in the mix, always through the back door, do not tell anyone I’m coming. And now I’ve relaxed into it where I’ll just show up. I don’t need a special ticket. I’ll just go sit wherever. It feels a little more like I’m myself again. — If you’re happier these days, what do you think when you hear an old lyric from an old record, like, “He hit me and it felt like a kiss,” from ‘Ultraviolence’? I don’t like it. I don’t. I don’t sing it. I sing ‘Ultraviolence’ but I don’t sing that line anymore. Having someone be aggressive in a relationship was the only relationship I knew. I’m not going to say that that [lyric] was 100 percent true, but I do feel comfortable saying what I was used to was a difficult, tumultuous relationship, and it wasn’t because of me. It didn’t come from my end. — Now you want to present a different face to the world on ‘Lust For Life’? No. I don’t care. I would just say I am different. And even being a little bit different makes me not want to sing that line. To me, it just was what it was. I deal with what’s in my lyric—you’re not dealing with it. I was annoyed when people would ask me about that lyric. Like, who are you? — Do you think you romanticize danger in your music? No. I don’t like it. It’s just the only thing [I’ve known]. So I’m trying to do a new thing. I never wrote better when I had a lot of turmoil going on. ‘Born To Die’ was already done before any of the shit hit the fan. When things are good, the music is better. I’m trying to change from the way I thought things were gonna be to what I feel like they could be, which is maybe just brighter. — But, even with some new perspectives, ‘Lust For Life’ is still very melancholy at moments. If you make sad music, which you’ve done for so long, does it necessarily mean you’re sad? Yeah. I think for most people, regardless of what they say, it’s probably a direct reflection of their inner world. With my first record, I didn’t feel upset. I felt very excited, and then I felt a little more confused. — After the release of ‘Born To Die,’ you faced a lot of criticism, partly around the issue of whether you were or were not authentic. Do you think of yourself as authentic? Of course. I’m always being myself. They don’t know what authentic is. If you think of all the music that came out until 2013, it was super straight and shiny. If that’s authentic to you, this is going to look like the opposite. I think that shit is stylized. Just because I do my hair big does not mean I’m a product. If anything, I’m doing my own hair, stuffing my own fucking stuffing in there if I have a beehive. Music was in a super weird place when I became known, and I didn’t really like any of it. — Did you ever feel like the criticism had a misogynistic bent? No. Women hated me. I know why. It’s because there were things I was saying that either they just couldn’t connect to or were maybe worried that, if they were in the same situation, it would put them in a vulnerable place. — You weren’t singing empowering things. No, I wasn’t. That wasn’t my angle. I didn’t really have an angle—that’s the thing. — Have you noticed that all songs on the radio are bummers now? That Lil Uzi Vert lyric—“All my friends are dead”—sounds almost like a Lana lyric. There’s been a major sonic shift culturally. I think I had a lot to do with that. I do. I hear a lot of music that sounds like those early records. It would be weird to say that it didn’t. I remember seven years ago I was trying to get a record deal, and people were like, “Are you kidding? These tunes? There’s zero market for this.” There was just such a long time where people had to fit into that pop box. — With all the flak you’ve received over the years, particularly after ‘Born To Die,’ some people would have thrown in the towel. But you doubled down and made an even more fucked up, almost hyper-Lana record with ‘Ultraviolence.’ I so double downed. [The early criticism] made me question myself- I didn’t know if it was always going to be that way. You can’t put out records if 90 percent of the reviews in places like the Times are going to be negative. That would be crazy. It would have made sense to step all the way back, but I was like, Let me put out three more records and see if I can just stand in the eye of the storm. Not shift too much. Let me just take some of the [production] off so you can hear things a little bit better; I thought people were maybe getting distracted. I did the same thing with ‘Honeymoon.’ Everyone around here heard it and was like, “It’s a cool record, but you know it’s not going to be on the radio, right?” And I was like, “Yeah. I told [record executive] Jimmy [Iovine] when I signed, ‘If you want to sign me, this is all it’s ever going to be.’” I was just so committed to making music because I believe in what I do. All I had to do was not quit. — So that ‘Ultraviolence’ woman who is so swept up in turmoil- is she still there on ‘Lust For Life’? We’ll see. That’s been my experience up until now, but, like, I’m trying. — Some of the sparer, really heartfelt songs on ‘Lust For Life’ reminded me of the ‘Ultraviolence’ song ‘Black Beauty.’ That’s a sad song. In that song—[sings] I keep my lips red like cherries in the spring/Darling, you can’t let everything seem so dark blue—that’s a girl who is still seeing the blue sky and a putting on a pop of color just for herself. But this [other] person—it was all black for them. And my world became inky with those overtones. [At this, Lana begins to cry, and we pause for a moment.] — What made you cry just now? In that moment, when I said “pop of color,” I was connected to that feeling of only being able to see a portion of the world in color. And when you feel that way, you can feel trapped. — Are you seeing the world in color now? [sighs] I don’t really know how to describe my perspective at the moment. — But you’re trying, and that’s what ‘Lust For Life’ is about? It’s not. I don’t know what it’s about. I don’t know what it is. — Is the album a way of saying that you at least want to be happy? No. It’s just that something is happening. — What makes you happy? I’m really simple. I love nature. I like hikes. Being by the water- I don’t always get in. I love the elements. Playing an outdoor festival. Love that feeling. — What bums you out? Feeling like going backwards. — Is there a storyline to the album? Yeah. — What’s the story? You have to figure it out. — Just a few years ago you were saying you didn’t care about feminism, and now you are writing protest songs and meditations on war and peace. Because things have shifted culturally. It’s more appropriate now than under the Obama administration, where at least everyone I knew felt safe. It was a good time. We were on the up-and-up. Women started to feel less safe under this administration instantly. What if they take away Planned Parenthood? What if we can’t get birth control? Now, when people ask me those questions, I feel a little differently. The reason why I asked Stevie Nicks to be on the record is because she changes when her environment changes, and I’m like that as well. In ‘When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing,’ I wrote, “Boys, don’t make too much noise/Don’t try to be funny/Other people may not be understanding.” Like, Can you tone down your over-boisterous rhetoric that isn’t working? ‘God Bless America - And All the Beautiful Women in It’ is a little shoutout to the women and anyone else who doesn’t always feel safe walking down the street late at night. That’s what I was thinking of when I wrote, “Even when I’m alone I’m not lonely/I feel your arms around me.” It’s not always how I feel when I’m walking down the street, but sometimes in my music I try to write about a place that I’m going to get to. — Do you feel unsafe? I feel less safe than I did when Obama was president. When you have a leader at the top of the pyramid who is casually being loud and funny about things like that, it’s brought up character defects in people who already have the propensity to be violent towards women. I saw it right away in L.A. Walking down the street, people would just say things to you that I had never heard. When people asked me the feminist question before, I was like, “I’m not really experiencing personal discrimination as a woman. I feel like I’m doing well. I headline shows just like the Weeknd does. I got tons of women in my life, love women, support women.” I just felt like, Why don’t we talk about the music first? I can tell you that what I have done for women is tell my own story, and that’s all anyone can do. — Is it harder to be romantic about America when Trump is the nation’s biggest celebrity? It’s certainly uncomfortable. I definitely changed my visuals on my tour videos. I’m not going to have the American flag waving while I’m singing ‘Born To Die.’ It’s not going to happen. I’d rather have static. It’s a transitional period, and I’m super aware of that. I think it would be inappropriate to be in France with an American flag. It would feel weird to me now- it didn’t feel weird in 2013. All the guys in the studio—we didn’t know we were going to start walking in every day and talking about what was going on. We hadn’t ever done that before, but everyday during the election, you’d wake up and some new horrible thing was happening. Korea, with missiles suddenly being pointed at the western coast. With ‘When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing,’ I was posing a real question to myself: Could this be the end of an era? The fall of Rome? — Nostalgia can be really corny when it’s not done well, and you’re all about nostalgia. How do you try to get it right? I know I walk the line sometimes. [laughs] I saw comments that people said about my little ‘Coachella - Woodstock in my Mind’ song. I write that title and I’m like, OK, I know I went there. But I think it’s amazing. It’s on the nose. It’s so on the nose. But sometimes things just are what they are. I’m at Coachella for three days, and North Korea is pointing a missile at us, and I’m watching Father John Misty with my best friend, who’s his wife—that’s all I’m literally saying. It’s just like, Yeah, I’m a hipster. I know it. Got it. — You mentioned working with Stevie Nicks on this album, what was it like recording with her? She came in straight off a plane from her last show of like 60 cities, which I was actually supposed to open for. She had asked me, and I was like, “Oh my god.” But I couldn’t because I don’t want to do a 60-show tour. She flew through the door. Blond highlights, rose gold glasses, gold-tipped nails, rose gold lipstick, gold chains, gold rings, black on black on black. Very stylish. And meanwhile, I looked like a housewife of 15—flannel on flannel, because it was a cold night. And I was like, Why did I not dress up for Stevie Nicks? At the end of the track, she sings, then I sing, then she sings. I was kinda embarrassed. I was like, “I sound so little compared to you.” And she was like, “That’s good, you’re my little echo.” And I was like, Stevie called me her little echo. It’s a stupid little thing, but she was very nurturing in that way, and not belittling of the fact that I had a more breathy voice. Which I wasn’t even aware of until I was shoulder-to-shoulder on a track with someone with less air in their voice. I felt a little more exposed in that moment. But she was like, “That’s you. You just be you.” — Speaking of musical icons, can you tell me about performing at Kim and Kanye’s wedding party? It was a surprise for Kim. I hadn’t met her. I sang ‘Young And Beautiful,’ ‘Summertime Sadness,’ ‘Blue Jeans.’ Kanye requested ‘Young And Beautiful.’ The girls—the Kardashians—were so nice. There was only one front row, just them, right there. They were living for it. They started playing Kanye and Jay-Z records for the rest of the thing and it rained and everyone was just up dancing in the rain. I stayed for like 40 minutes and then I left. — People have made a big deal about that necklace you are selling that seems to have a coke spoon. Is it a coke spoon? Yeah. It’s funny. I have a flask and a lighter as well. I don’t do coke. — You’ve said in the past that you weren’t drinking either, and yet it turns up in your music. Do you drink now? No comment. — You sing about drugs and alcohol a lot. Not on this record. I well used to do a lot of drugs, but I actively don’t now. — What kind of drugs did you do? No comment. [laughs] But I think the coke spoon is kinda funny. I’m just like, Whatever. I don’t think it’s going to make anyone do coke. — Are you conscious of when you walk right up to a taboo in your work? Not really. That’s the one thing I don’t have my finger on. I am there, but there are times I don’t really know it. There’s certain stuff that I think is kinda dope that I know other people might be like, Okayyyyy. — Like singing about death? That’s real life though. Super real life. — You got a lot of shit for saying “I wish I was dead” to a journalist a few years ago. Fuck that guy, though. I didn’t think he would print it and make it the headline. I was having a really tough time. I had been on the road for a year. I was really struggling. I was just stupid, I was like, “I fucking want to die.” Maybe I meant it. I don’t really know. — Which of your albums is the most autobiographical? All of them. The last record- I listen to a song like ‘Terrence Loves You,’ and I just really feel for myself at the time. The person I’m singing about—[sings] You are what you are/I don’t matter to anyone—did I really just say I don’t matter to anyone? That’s fucking crazy. — Did you feel that way? I guess so. I sang it. — What makes you feel proud? My records. I love my records. I love them. I’m proud of the way I’ve put parts of my story into songs in ways that only I understand. In terms of my gauge of what’s good, it’s really just what I think. I have an internal framework that is the only thing I measure it by. My own opinion is really important to me. It starts and stops there.

[lanadelreyspoetry]

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness: A Conversation With Lana Del Rey

On the eve of her fourth album, the pagan pop star sounds more content than ever. How did she get there?

Famous artists are notoriously late, but when I arrive about 20 minutes early for an interview at Lana Del Rey’s Santa Monica studio, she is ready for me, offering a handshake and a smile. It is the week before her new album, Lust for Life, will be released, but she seems unhurried and relaxed; when I ask if she’s been busy in the leadup to such a big day, she says “no” with a laugh, as if she knows she probably should be. She is not dressed like the glammed-up mystic you see in music videos and photographs: her hair, long and brown, is tied functionally behind her neck, and she is in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, with cream canvas sneakers and white ankle socks on her feet. Right away, she invites me through a side door into the inner sanctum where her brooding songs are created.

For Lana acolytes, this is a mythic place. She has recorded here since 2012’s Born to Die, her major label debut. It is a beautiful room filled with sun coming in from a skylight and two windows, the opposite of the average dank music studio. It looks a bit like how you’d expect Lana Del Rey’s workplace to look: vaguely and warmly retro, with dark wood cabinets and a mid-century-looking painting with interlacing geometric shapes hanging on the back wall. In the center of the room is a scratched-up leather club chair with a Tammy Wynette album cover facing it. (“I always have Tammy there,” she says of the country singer best known for her ode to everlasting devotion, “Stand by Your Man.”) This chair, and not the actual booth in the front of the room, is where Lana sits to record her vocals. “I get red light fever in the booth,” she says. She likes that the studio is by the beach, where she’ll sometimes go to listen to mixes of songs on her iPhone.

The studio is owned and operated by Rick Nowels, her longtime producer. He has come down today to listen to the album with us, a pair of sunglasses firmly on his face. Nowels has more than 20 years on Lana, who is 32, and he inhabits something of an uncle role, making the songwriter a bit bashful when he sweetly refers to a ballad called “When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing” as a “masterpiece” for its lyrical message about the importance of finding ways to have fun, even in the Trump era. Gearing up to record what would become Born to Die, Lana had met with a number of producers who all tried to tell her what she should or should not sound like, with some encouraging her to ditch the breathy vocal style that would become her signature. When she finally met Nowels, he didn’t want to change a thing. “I went through a hundred and eleven producers just to find someone who says ‘yes’ all the time,” she says. “Everyone is so obsessed with saying ‘no’—they break you down to build you up.”

Lana is a studio junkie—Lust for Life is her fourth album in about five years. She says a day that she works is better than a day that she doesn’t. Nowels tells me that even though the new album isn’t out yet, she’s already making new music. “If I get a great melody in my head, I know it’s a gift,” she says. As we sit down to listen to Lust for Life, she is clearly at home: Like a good host, she offers me her comfy leather singing chair and instead curls up on a blue velvet couch nearby. She has a familial rapport with not just Nowels, but engineers Dean Reid and Kieron Menzies, who she credits again and again for making her work better, and the four of them ruminate on mastering, making jokes about Lana’s perfectionism when it comes to the final cuts of her songs.

The album, like all of her work, is fastidiously and emphatically Lana in its sound and atmosphere: a haze of lazy pacing and flowery melodies, conjuring a foreboding backdrop for lyrics about summer and antique celebrity icons and dangerous, dissatisfying relationships. Front and center in the mix is her voice, which has a crooner’s tone and an especially wide range, from deep and low to high and sharp. Most pop stars rely on reinvention to retain relevance, but her output is remarkably consistent. She says her main criteria is whether or not a song sounds like it will transport listeners to somewhere else in their minds. On each album, the skeleton remains more or less the same while she infuses her work with stylistic elements from different genres, from rap to rock to jazz. Lust for Life draws from folk and hip-hop, two genres that she says she loves because they both privilege real storytelling.

The new record is a departure in key ways, though. In the past, Lana has become famous for themes that are, at times, hopeless: toxic romance, violence, drug use, despair, aging, death. This isn’t to say every song she has ever recorded is a downer, or that she hasn’t displayed a knowing sense of humor about her reputation. But her relentless obsession with the dark arts is a reason why her fans love her with an almost religious fervor; she’s had issues with people breaking into her house. “They want to talk,” she says chillingly. Her menacing themes have also led to resistance at certain moments from larger audiences who, perhaps trained to think of pop music as a tool of empowerment and empathy, just can’t face her nihilism.

While Lust for Life certainly has its share of grim moments, it is not as much of an avalanche of gloom, and perhaps offers signposts to a happier future. At times, Lana even approaches uncomplicated joy, like on first single “Love.” The album also contains some of her first songs that deal with a universe larger than the tangled intensity of one-on-one relationships—there are tracks intended to be balms and battle cries for trying times, which, like many Americans, she found herself fretting over constantly during the 2016 election campaign. And for the first time on any Lana album, she’s also opening the door to a number of guest vocalists: A$AP Rocky, Playboi Carti, the Weeknd, Stevie Nicks, and Sean Ono Lennon on a Beatles-referencing song called “Tomorrow Never Came.” “I FaceTimed with Yoko, and she said it was her most favorite thing Sean’s ever done,” Lana says.

After listening to the album, Lana and I peel off to a small office on the other side of the studio for our interview. Before we begin, she pulls out her iPhone to record the conversation along with me, a defensive move she’s taken up after years of feeling manipulated and harangued by the media. When answering questions, she is at turns thoughtful and strident, seriously considering topics like her attempts at a brighter life and how Trump has affected her love of Americana, and also entirely unafraid to bat away questions she finds boring or irrelevant. At one point, she laughs so hard at a silly sidebar in our conversation that she has a coughing fit and has to take a break. She says she binge watches “The Bachelor,” and that while all of her friends now call her Lana—not Elizabeth Grant, her birth name—her parents are the two people who do not. She is wry about the new song “Groupie Love,” in which she writes herself not as the star but in the role of a worshipful devotee: “Old habits die hard—I still love a rock star.” When I ask her if she is bothered by TMZ dating rumors, which have recently speculated about her relationship with rapper G-Eazy, she gives an unexpectedly goading answer: “They’re usually true. Maybe where there’s smoke there’s fire.”

Which is to say: She’s kinda regular, not the hardened artist we’ve heard in her songs, but someone, it would seem, who likes to hang out and chat about life and music. Talking about good times brings up memories of rough ones, and when the conversation veers towards rocky terrain, she reveals an artist—and a person—at a pivotal moment.

Pitchfork: A few years ago you were singing lyrics like “I have nothing much to live for,” and now you’re smiling on the cover of Lust for Life. How’d you get to a happier place?

Lana Del Rey: I made personal commitments.

Commitments to what?

Well, they’re personal. [laughs] I had some people in my life that made me a worse person. I was not sure if I could step out of that box of familiarity, which was having a lot of people around me who had a lot of problems and feeling like that was home base. Because it’s all I know. I spent my whole life reasoning with crazy people. I felt like everyone deserved a chance, but they don’t. Sometimes you just have to step away without saying anything.

Your past albums often presented a claustrophobic universe made up of just you and one other person, but all of a sudden it’s like you’ve got your eyes wide open and you’re looking at the world around you.

Developmentally, I was in the same place for a very long time, and then it just took me longer than most people to be able to be more out there. Being more naturally shy, it’s taken stretching on my part to just continue to integrate into the local community, global community, to grow as a person. Also, getting really famous doesn’t help you grow with the community. It’s important to have your own life. It’s hard with how accessible things are. Hacking? Email is just a no for me. I do a lot to make sure I don’t feel trapped.

Your fans are famously obsessive. Do they ever cross the line?

They fucking have. Someone stole both my cars. All the scary shit. I’ve had people in my house for sure, and I didn’t know they were there while I was there. I fucking called the police. I locked the door. Obviously, that’s the one in one-hundred-thousand people who’s crazy. But I [had a hard time sleeping] for a minute.

Fame can be isolating, but you are making a real effort to not let it be.

It’s going to be isolating. Period. Unless you stretch past it. But it takes so much footwork. Getting over the uncomfortability of being the one person in the room who everyone recognizes. The last few years, I’m out all the time: clubs, bars, shows. For years I was more quietly in the mix, always through the back door, do not tell anyone I’m coming. And now I’ve relaxed into it where I’ll just show up. I don’t need a special ticket. I’ll just go sit wherever. It feels a little more like I’m myself again.

If you’re happier these days, what do you think when you hear an old lyric from an old record, like, “He hit me and it felt like a kiss,” from “Ultraviolence”?

I don’t like it. I don’t. I don’t sing it. I sing “Ultraviolence” but I don’t sing that line anymore. Having someone be aggressive in a relationship was the only relationship I knew. I’m not going to say that that [lyric] was 100 percent true, but I do feel comfortable saying what I was used to was a difficult, tumultuous relationship, and it wasn’t because of me. It didn’t come from my end.

Now you want to present a different face to the world on Lust for Life?

No. I don’t care. I would just say I am different. And even being a little bit different makes me not want to sing that line. To me, it just was what it was. I deal with what’s in my lyric—you’re not dealing with it. I was annoyed when people would ask me about that lyric. Like, who are you?

Do you think you romanticize danger in your music?

No. I don’t like it. It’s just the only thing [I’ve known]. So I’m trying to do a new thing. I never wrote better when I had a lot of turmoil going on. Born to Die was already done before any of the shit hit the fan. When things are good, the music is better. I’m trying to change from the way I thought things were gonna be to what I feel like they could be, which is maybe just brighter.  

But, even with some new perspectives, Lust for Life is still very melancholy at moments. If you make sad music, which you’ve done for so long, does it necessarily mean you’re sad?

Yeah. I think for most people, regardless of what they say, it’s probably a direct reflection of their inner world. With my first record, I didn’t feel upset. I felt very excited, and then I felt a little more confused.

After the release of Born to Die, you faced a lot of criticism, partly around the issue of whether you were or were not authentic. Do you think of yourself as authentic?

Of course. I’m always being myself. They don’t know what authentic is. If you think of all the music that came out until 2013, it was super straight and shiny. If that’s authentic to you, this is going to look like the opposite. I think that shit is stylized. Just because I do my hair big does not mean I’m a product. If anything, I’m doing my own hair, stuffing my own fucking stuffing in there if I have a beehive. Music was in a super weird place when I became known, and I didn’t really like any of it.

Did you ever feel like the criticism had a misogynistic bent?

No. Women hated me. I know why. It’s because there were things I was saying that either they just couldn’t connect to or were maybe worried that, if they were in the same situation, it would put them in a vulnerable place.

You weren’t singing empowering things.

No, I wasn’t. That wasn’t my angle. I didn’t really have an angle—that’s the thing.

Have you noticed that all songs on the radio are bummers now? That Lil Uzi Vert lyric—“All my friends are dead”—sounds almost like a Lana lyric.

There’s been a major sonic shift culturally. I think I had a lot to do with that. I do. I hear a lot of music that sounds like those early records. It would be weird to say that it didn’t. I remember seven years ago I was trying to get a record deal, and people were like, “Are you kidding? These tunes? There’s zero market for this.” There was just such a long time where people had to fit into that pop box.

With all the flak you’ve received over the years, particularly after Born to Die, some people would have thrown in the towel. But you doubled down and made an even more fucked up, almost hyper-Lana record with Ultraviolence.

I so double downed. [The early criticism] made me question myself—I didn’t know if it was always going to be that way. You can’t put out records if 90 percent of the reviews in places like the Times are going to be negative. That would be crazy. It would have made sense to step all the way back, but I was like, Let me put out three more records and see if I can just stand in the eye of the storm. Not shift too much. Let me just take some of the [production] off so you can hear things a little bit better; I thought people were maybe getting distracted. I did the same thing with Honeymoon. Everyone around here heard it and was like, “It’s a cool record, but you know it’s not going to be on the radio, right?” And I was like, “Yeah. I told [record executive] Jimmy [Iovine] when I signed, ‘If you want to sign me, this is all it’s ever going to be.’” I was just so committed to making music because I believe in what I do. All I had to do was not quit.

So that Ultraviolence woman who is so swept up in turmoil—is she still there on Lust for Life?

We’ll see. That’s been my experience up until now, but, like, I’m trying.

Some of the sparer, really heartfelt songs on Lust for Life reminded me of the Ultraviolence song “Black Beauty.”

That’s a sad song. In that song—[sings] I keep my lips red like cherries in the spring/Darling, you can’t let everything seem so dark blue—that’s a girl who is still seeing the blue sky and a putting on a pop of color just for herself. But this [other] person—it was all black for them. And my world became inky with those overtones. [At this, Lana begins to cry, and we pause for a moment.]

What made you cry just now?

In that moment, when I said “pop of color,” I was connected to that feeling of only being able to see a portion of the world in color. And when you feel that way, you can feel trapped.

Are you seeing the world in color now?

[sighs] I don’t really know how to describe my perspective at the moment.

But you’re trying, and that’s what Lust for Life is about?

It’s not. I don’t know what it’s about. I don’t know what it is.

Is the album a way of saying that you at least want to be happy?

No. It’s just that something is happening.

What makes you happy?

I’m really simple. I love nature. I like hikes. Being by the water—I don’t always get in. I love the elements. Playing an outdoor festival. Love that feeling.

What bums you out?

Feeling like going backwards.

Is there a storyline to the album?

Yeah.

What’s the story?

You have to figure it out.

Just a few years ago you were saying you didn’t care about feminism, and now you are writing protest songs and meditations on war and peace.

Because things have shifted culturally. It’s more appropriate now than under the Obama administration, where at least everyone I knew felt safe. It was a good time. We were on the up-and-up.

Women started to feel less safe under this administration instantly. What if they take away Planned Parenthood? What if we can’t get birth control? Now, when people ask me those questions, I feel a little differently. The reason why I asked Stevie Nicks to be on the record is because she changes when her environment changes, and I’m like that as well.

In “When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing,” I wrote, “Boys, don’t make too much noise/Don’t try to be funny/Other people may not be understanding.” Like, Can you tone down your over-boisterous rhetoric that isn’t working? “God Bless America - And All the Beautiful Women in It” is a little shoutout to the women and anyone else who doesn’t always feel safe walking down the street late at night. That’s what I was thinking of when I wrote, “Even when I’m alone I’m not lonely/I feel your arms around me.” It’s not always how I feel when I’m walking down the street, but sometimes in my music I try to write about a place that I’m going to get to.

Do you feel unsafe?

I feel less safe than I did when Obama was president. When you have a leader at the top of the pyramid who is casually being loud and funny about things like that, it’s brought up character defects in people who already have the propensity to be violent towards women. I saw it right away in L.A. Walking down the street, people would just say things to you that I had never heard.

When people asked me the feminist question before, I was like, “I’m not really experiencing personal discrimination as a woman. I feel like I’m doing well. I headline shows just like the Weeknd does. I got tons of women in my life, love women, support women.” I just felt like, Why don’t we talk about the music first? I can tell you that what I have done for women is tell my own story, and that’s all anyone can do.

Is it harder to be romantic about America when Trump is the nation’s biggest celebrity?

It’s certainly uncomfortable. I definitely changed my visuals on my tour videos. I’m not going to have the American flag waving while I’m singing “Born to Die.” It’s not going to happen. I’d rather have static. It’s a transitional period, and I’m super aware of that. I think it would be inappropriate to be in France with an American flag. It would feel weird to me now—it didn’t feel weird in 2013.

All the guys in the studio—we didn’t know we were going to start walking in every day and talking about what was going on. We hadn’t ever done that before, but everyday during the election, you’d wake up and some new horrible thing was happening. Korea, with missiles suddenly being pointed at the western coast. With “When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing,” I was posing a real question to myself: Could this be the end of an era? The fall of Rome?

Nostalgia can be really corny when it’s not done well, and you’re all about nostalgia. How do you try to get it right?

I know I walk the line sometimes. [laughs] I saw comments that people said about my little “Coachella - Woodstock in my Mind” song. I write that title and I’m like, OK, I know I went there. But I think it’s amazing. It’s on the nose. It’s so on the nose. But sometimes things just are what they are. I’m at Coachella for three days, and North Korea is pointing a missile at us, and I’m watching Father John Misty with my best friend, who’s his wife—that’s all I’m literally saying. It’s just like, Yeah, I’m a hipster. I know it. Got it.

You mentioned working with Stevie Nicks on this album, what was it like recording with her?

She came in straight off a plane from her last show of like 60 cities, which I was actually supposed to open for. She had asked me, and I was like, “Oh my god.” But I couldn’t because I don’t want to do a 60-show tour.

She flew through the door. Blond highlights, rose gold glasses, gold-tipped nails, rose gold lipstick, gold chains, gold rings, black on black on black. Very stylish. And meanwhile, I looked like a housewife of 15—flannel on flannel, because it was a cold night. And I was like, Why did I not dress up for Stevie Nicks?

At the end of the track, she sings, then I sing, then she sings. I was kinda embarrassed. I was like, “I sound so little compared to you.” And she was like, “That’s good, you’re my little echo.” And I was like, Stevie called me her little echo. It’s a stupid little thing, but she was very nurturing in that way, and not belittling of the fact that I had a more breathy voice. Which I wasn’t even aware of until I was shoulder-to-shoulder on a track with someone with less air in their voice. I felt a little more exposed in that moment. But she was like, “That’s you. You just be you.”

Speaking of musical icons, can you tell me about performing at Kim and Kanye’s wedding party?

It was a surprise for Kim. I hadn’t met her. I sang “Young and Beautiful,” “Summertime Sadness,” “Blue Jeans.” Kanye requested “Young and Beautiful.” The girls—the Kardashians—were so nice. There was only one front row, just them, right there. They were living for it. They started playing Kanye and Jay-Z records for the rest of the thing and it rained and everyone was just up dancing in the rain. I stayed for like 40 minutes and then I left.

People have made a big deal about that necklace you are selling that seems to have a coke spoon. Is it a coke spoon?

Yeah. It’s funny. I have a flask and a lighter as well. I don’t do coke.

You’ve said in the past that you weren’t drinking either, and yet it turns up in your music. Do you drink now?

No comment.  

You sing about drugs and alcohol a lot.

Not on this record. I well used to do a lot of drugs, but I actively don’t now.

What kind of drugs did you do?

No comment. [laughs] But I think the coke spoon is kinda funny. I’m just like, Whatever. I don’t think it’s going to make anyone do coke.

Are you conscious of when you walk right up to a taboo in your work?

Not really. That’s the one thing I don’t have my finger on. I am there, but there are times I don’t really know it. There’s certain stuff that I think is kinda dope that I know other people might be like, Okayyyyy.

Like singing about death?

That’s real life though. Super real life.

You got a lot of shit for saying “I wish I was dead” to a journalist a few years ago.

Fuck that guy, though. I didn’t think he would print it and make it the headline. I was having a really tough time. I had been on the road for a year. I was really struggling. I was just stupid, I was like, “I fucking want to die.” Maybe I meant it. I don’t really know.

Which of your albums is the most autobiographical?

All of them. The last record—I listen to a song like “Terrence Loves You,” and I just really feel for myself at the time. The person I’m singing about—[sings] You are what you are/I don’t matter to anyone—did I really just say I don’t matter to anyone? That’s fucking crazy.

Did you feel that way?

I guess so. I sang it.

What makes you feel proud?

My records. I love my records. I love them. I’m proud of the way I’ve put parts of my story into songs in ways that only I understand. In terms of my gauge of what’s good, it’s really just what I think. I have an internal framework that is the only thing I measure it by. My own opinion is really important to me. It starts and stops there.

http://pitchfork.com/features/interview/life-liberty-and-the-pursuit-of-happiness-a-conversation-with-lana-del-rey/

[captainwhogotthecanary]

Idk if you take requests but, 13 going on 30 fic where Len and Sara wake up and one (or both) is confused because, "where am I and who is this laying next to me??"

I have seen this movie so many times! I upped Sara’s initial age because I wasn’t comfortable working with a 13 yr old. Also, I wove it into canon, which means s1, which means Destiny fix-it because I’m not ending it on the horrible note it would require otherwise. Set vaguely in late s1.

I had a lot of fun writing it! Thank you for the prompt! Also, lots of thanks to Tavyn for the feedback!

On AO3.

It shouldn't be like this.

Sara’s never wished for anything harder in her life. She sits onthe floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, but it does no good.

She's still making bad choices, still competing with her sisterover the same guy, who isn't good enough for either of them.

It shouldn't be like this.

She bangs her head back against the shelves, ignoring it when somesort of glitter falls on her face. She closes her eyes and wishes she was pastall this, past the drama of being a teenager, an adult only by technicality.

***

Sara wakes from sleep, stretching, and freezes when she realizesshe's no longer in the dark closet.

She's in an unfamiliar bed, and she opens her eyes to gray metalthat reminds her of one of those old war ships people take field trips to, butshe can't feel any movement.

She didn't have enough to drink yesterday to black out. How didshe get here?

She starts to roll over, stilling again when she comes intocontact with a warm body.

She isn't alone in this bed. She pulls away instinctively, puttingthe wall to her back and struggling to remember her self-defense skills,because in what universe is blacking out and waking up with a stranger good?

It wakes the man, who takes one look at her and rolls over,putting his back to her and producing a huge gun that he aims around the room,lowering it when he doesn't see a threat.

“Sara?” he asks, and she blinks before studying him.

She's never met this man in her life, and she's sure she wouldremember him. He's older than she is, much older, but there's something abouthim that draws her in. Maybe it's the eyes. He's dressed in a t-shirt and sleeppants, and she looks down to see she is, as well.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

“Who are you?” she returns.

He watches her before putting away the gun. He turns to her, thoseeyes gazing into hers. It's like he can see right into her, and she shivers. Hecatches the movement, looking her over appraisingly.

“You don't look injured. What's the last thing you remember?”

Sara frowns. “Last night, there was another big party, and Laurelwent with Ollie, and I found somewhere to hide.”

His eyebrows draw together in concern or confusion, she isn'tsure, but she feels like she could relax around him if she knew what was goingon.

“Your sister still parties with Oliver?”

“Well, yeah,” Sara says. “I mean, they aren’t dating yet, buteveryone knows it’s coming. They’ve been like… almost together since highschool. I know it’s been a couple years, and I thought maybe I had a shot sinceI’m an adult now, but...”

“How old do you think you are?” he asks when she trails off, andit’s Sara’s first clue that she might be missing more than a night.

“Eighteen,” she says cautiously, watching as he frowns.

“Gideon,” he calls without taking his eyes off her.

“Yes, Mr. Snart?” The feminine voice sounds like it’s coming fromall around them, and Sara can feel the man–Mr. Snart, apparently–measuring herreaction.

“Do you have any idea why Sara thinks she’s eighteen?”

“No, Mr. Snart. I still show Miss Lance as twenty-eight by heroriginal timeline, or thirty including the two years she was marooned in the‘50s.”

What the hell? At this, Sara does finally let herself relax. Itdoesn’t matter how real this feels; there’s no way this is anything but adream, one that makes even less sense than some.

“You’re telling me I’m going on thirty?” she asks.

“Yes, Miss Lance.”

“You don’t remember anything after eighteen?” Snart asks, and Sarashakes her head.

“Nope. Can’t be all bad if I’m sleeping with you, though.” Shegrins, and he raises an eyebrow. Guess dream Sara doesn’t flirt with him thatway. Pity.

“Gideon,” he says, almost a plea this time.

“Miss Lance, you share a bed with Mr. Snart, on occasion, but youhave not, I believe, ‘slept’ with him in the colloquial use of the term.”

Even more of a pity. The man looks exceedingly uncomfortable whenSara looks at him more closely, but he’s also got something very protective inhis posture.

“If you could please come to the med bay, Miss Lance,” Gideonchimes, “it might help if I ran a full diagnostic scan.”

He stands, clearly waiting for Sara to join him. She pauses.

“What do I call you?” she asks before getting up and standing nextto him.

“Leonard,” he says.

***

The scan is completely normal. At least, the results of it are. Inthe meantime, Sara finds out Gideon’s like a disembodied robot, and she’s on aspaceship. She’s still waiting to wake up, but the longer it takes, the lessshe believes she’s asleep.

Gideon summons the captain after not finding anything wrong, andhe declares they'll stay in the timestream until the matter has resolved. Helooks both concerned and exasperated, as if she chose for this to happen but hestill cares about the consequences.

Sara likes Leonard better.

“So, Len,” Sara says when they’re alone again. “What’s good to doon this ship?”

They end up finding a quiet spot to play cards, becauseapparently, all there is to do on the ship is play cards, play with weapons, ortalk nerd stuff.

“So tell me about myself,” Sara says after a few hands, feeling asurge of triumph when Leonard smirks.

“What do you want to know?” he drawls, and damn, if this is realand her older self isn’t hitting that? Sara’s gonna need to give her older selfa stern talking to.

“Everything you know, I guess,” she answers.

He proceeds to do just that, and Sara’s shocked at how much she’stold him.

She’s more shocked at what her life seems to be, continued badchoices or impossible choices leading her down rabbit hole after rabbit hole.She’s been legally dead and actually dead, and based on what he tells her,she’s not surprised she chose to come aboard the Waverider.

They continue playing while they talk, or while he talks and shelistens, and finally, they’re both quiet. She looks up from her hand of cardsand looks at him, really looks at him, trying to see him through the filter ofher life as he’s told it.

She sees his scars, sees that his protective stance earlier wasjust as much for him as it was for her. She sees someone strong and capable whoclearly admires her abilities.

“Why aren’t we together?” she asks aloud, and he lifts his eyes tohers.

“It’s complicated,” he answers after several seconds.

Sara rolls her eyes. “You just told me my whole life story, andthe reason we’re not together is complicated?”

“It involves feelings,” he says, holding her stare for asecond longer before dropping his eyes back to his hand. “I don’t do feelings.”

She’s about to write him off as someone who just can’t commit,ready to forgive her future self for not making a move when he’s clearly justnot the type, when he continues.

“But if I did,” he says, “I’d tell you we’ve both had a lot goingon. We’re close, but the timing’s been all wrong.”

He plays his hand, and the subject drops.

***

Days pass, and while she gets to know the rest of the crew, Sarastill spends most of her time with Leonard. She refuses to sleep in her ownbed, and Leonard refuses to do anything more than literally sleep with her. Theclosest she’s gotten to an answer from him is some muttering about how she’snot herself.

And okay, she’s seen a mirror by now, has seen her own scars,which align with what he’s told her. According to her body, she is notstill eighteen. Also, she’s pretty sure dreams can’t last this long.

Leonard drags her in for some sparring one day, and they find outthat her muscle memory seems intact; she’s more than a challenge for him. Hebrings in Kendra, who seems the most sympathetic to her memory issues, and theyspar daily.

Sara also gets to play more cards, drink, and just spend time withthe crew in general and Leonard in specific, until Rip finally steps in.

“We can’t stay in the timestream any longer,” he says. “Sara,despite your lingering memory problems, you seem quite capable of holding yourown, and we have to get back to taking out Savage.”

The team takes turns filling her in on Vandal Savage, more thanthe bits and pieces she’s heard from Leonard, who’s mostly focused on historyas it relates to him and to her.

“We’ve been just sitting here screwing around while all this isgoing on?” she says when they finish.

Ray, with more sincerity than he needs, is the one to respond. “Weneeded you with us, Sara. You’re part of the team, and we’re not gonna leaveyou behind again.”

***

Her first–well, as far as she remembers–mission is a shit show. Shedoesn’t really get to do anything but listen to that psycho speak, and then shehas to watch Leonard flirt with the man’s daughter. And then Kendra’sex, who isn’t really her ex because of some reincarnation bullshit, comes back,except he’s not really himself but he has the potential to be, and they haveboth that guy and Savage on board, even though both of them want everyone onthe ship dead.

It’s not exactly a relaxing time, and everyone’s on edge.

“This whole thing is stupid,” she tells Leonard over a game ofcards. There’s been none of their usual banter, and he looks seriously at hernow.

“We’re leaving, me and Mick, soon as we can figure out how to getout of here. Come with us.”

“What?”

“It’s not just stupid,” he says. “There’s something very wronghere. I can feel it.”

“I don’t know…” It isn’t that she doesn’t want to go with him, butshe ended up here for a reason, right? She’s hesitant to go back closer towhere she came from.

***

She doesn’t end up having to decide. Jax gets sent back in thejump ship, and then it’s too late to find another way off.

***

“...for me. And you. And me and you.”

She would’ve jumped at these words a few days ago, but he pulled afucking gun on her. That hasn’t happened to her before, and she’s not sureshe’d be less angry even if having a gun pointed at her was a normal thing.

“You want to steal a kiss from me, Leonard? You better be one hellof a thief.”

***

It’s too late again. She’s standing there, and he’s about to die,and she knows she’s only eighteen, sort of, but she’s pretty sure she’s inlove, or at least capable of it, and she presses her lips to his because it’sall she can do.

***

It shouldn’t be like this.

Between the fight and losing Leonard, Sara hurts everywhere,inside and out. Her chest physically aches, and tears spill down her cheeks,because he’s gone.

If only she could get a do-over. If only she could start again andmake sure that somehow, he survives.

Sara’s never wished for anything harder in her life. She swipes ata tear and closes her eyes.

***

Sara wakes up in a dark closet. She stands, flipping thelightswitch, and looking down at smooth arms that are missing all the scarsshe’s gotten to know. She sniffs, drying her face, holding on to the hope thatimmediately infuses her.

She can do this. She can save him.

It doesn’t take long to confirm that she really has lived thisbefore, or at least some version of her has, that the things Leonard told herare coming true and that it wasn’t some elaborate and ridiculously long dream.

While she starts out focused only on saving Leonard, after awhile, she remembers to live for herself, too. Of course, she can’t deviate toofar from the life she had before, or else she’ll never meet him. Still, shehandles some things better. Her relationship with Nyssa ends on a better note.She doesn’t hook up with Oliver after the island. She doesn't hurt her parentsas much.

Sara feels so much older than almost-30 before she finally meetshim, before she’s finally ready to board the Waverider. It’s hard, not tellinghim exactly what’s coming, but some of her memories have faded, a decade old bynow. She does things differently, but most things end up the same, and shethinks maybe the Oculus has something to do with it, forcing time to happen theway it’s supposed to.

When she and Leonard start sharing a bed, she makes sure it isn’tstrictly platonic, and she’s old enough to appreciate him even better than shewould have as a teen.

By the time they get to the Oculus, she’s told him her past,including her detour as a teenager, and they’re able to bring a little devicethat basically acts like a permanent lock bolt, keeping the button pressed downso they can make their escape.

They collapse in a sweaty heap later that night, limbs tangledtogether. They’re almost too close, but she can’t bring herself to let goknowing how today was supposed to end.

“I’m crazy for you,” she says, and he presses his lips to hers.

She can feel it in his kiss; he feels the same.

[mamepwrites]

My thoughts on Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin

Warning, some spoilers for the game’s story are below.

Dark Souls II was the first Souls game I really decided to sit through and play. I’d touched DS1 when the craze reached my ears, and when it came on Steam as the Prepare to Die edition. I probably would have kept playing if it wasn’t running on Games for Windows Live. I didn’t really do much past the Taurus Demon. Considering that, when Dark Souls II was released, I got it instantly. I didn’t even know it was coming out. I hooked up my 360 controller and had a grand time in the tutorial. When I got to Majula, I was so lost. I found my way to Heide’s Tower of Flame and I ended up learning the basics of gameplay from the first Old Knight there. I didn’t even know about the area’s first bonfire. And then I stopped playing the game. When I learned of Bloodborne, I watched the Game Grumps playthrough of it and I wanted to feel that. I still had DS2 in my steam library, so I decided to stick with it. And I beat it! Granted, I wasn’t good at rolling, and I protected myself with a shield most of the time. But I was pretty okay by the end. I then got a PS4 and Bloodborne the summer after, and my experience in Souls helped me play through it with ease. I love hunting, even to this day. Then I got DS3 on release, and played the heck out of that. And then I decided it was time to play through DS1, and I did, defeating all of the bosses except for Priscilla, because so ~moe~. But with DS2 being my first real Souls game, I always wanted to play it again. I’ll put the cutoff here, because this’ll be a long post.

So, the Scholar of the First Sin edition was on sale on PSN a few weeks ago. I got it and I played the HECK out of it. But when Scholar of the First Sin was first announced, I believe it was advertised as being much harder than the base game, considering changes in enemy placement. But having played it, I really can’t say they did much to that end. Maybe it was just easy for me because I’m an experienced Souls player now. But let’s talk a little bit about the changes to difficulty.

The tutorial Things Betwixt has its entire third section blocked off, and for a fair reason. It seems the devs wanted players to not farm on the Ogres that were in that section. So they blocked it off with a statue that you’re able to unpetrify later in the game, and they make the Ogres non-respawning. Sheesh. However, the first real level of the game, Forest of Fallen Giants, has its first available enemy an Ogre. I thought that was unreasonable, so I skipped it entirely. Sadly, later in the level, the Heide Knight was missing, so no lightning sword. The rest of the level was fairly unchanged. I was playing it with a friend, and so we took down the Pursuer fairly easily. It would have been a little tough doing it solo, but I love playing Souls with friends in any case. Anyways, I found that the Scholar edition featured updated item descriptions, particularly in the text for the Soul of the Last Giant. It pretty much said it was formerly the Giant Lord, a boss you fight much later in the game through enjoyable time travel.

The next area, Heide’s Tower of Flame, suffered a terrible change in enemy placement in my opinion. The original DS2 featured Heide Knights as docile-until-attacked non-respawning tough enemies you would find around the world, and they would drop their weapons or armor. But in the Scholar update, practically all of them are in Heide’s Tower of Flame, and they respawn, which is fair for farming their item drops because they’re no longer guaranteed. But once you beat the area’s main boss, all of the Heide Knights are no longer docile and they actively run up and attack you. Coupled with the Old Knights that are still in the area, traversing around is tough. You don’t have to fight them, though, unless you want to fight the level’s other boss, who is optional. But it’s a fun fight, so why should I say no?

Anyways, No Man’s Wharf wasn’t as scary as I remembered, but it seems that they never really fixed the durability issue in the game. Basically, the original game ran at 30 FPS on consoles, and at 60 FPS on PC and in its Scholar edition, but a bug in the game made weapons and armor degrade twice as fast when playing the game at 60 FPS. Considering No Man’s Wharf has no bonfires except the one at the beginning, this was annoying.

Sinner’s Rise is the stage of the Lost Sinner boss. Dark Souls games tend to have a “Big Four” set of bosses relevant to the overarching plot of the game, and the Lost Sinner is often the first in DS2 that players fight. The fight is cool in the way that it’s fought in near pitch darkness, unless the player has the foresight to find a key in a side-branch earlier in the previous level. With the  key, the player can light lamps in the boss room beforehand, so they can fight it more comfortably. I did that. But the stage itself was underwhelming. In the original DS2, many enemies called ‘Enhanced Undeads’ were available to fight. They were big green masses of flesh vaguely resembling dragons, and they were beefy. But in this Scholar edition, they were all replaced by a single weakened Flexile Sentry, which was the boss of No Man’s Wharf. While it made getting to the boss a lot easier, I felt sad that they didn’t even leave even one Enhanced Undead. 

The next area, Huntsman’s Copse, is one of my dreaded areas. Mostly because of the six Torturers that lie in ambush before the bridge to Undead Purgatory. In my first DS2 playthrough, I depleted their respawns. This time I just killed them one by one and went to Undead Purgatory and bam done with the stage. The Skeleton Lords boss of Huntsman’s Copse proper was also much easier than I remembered. The next level, Harvest Valley, was also decreased and increased in difficulty. There aren’t as many Undead Steelworkers (big greed dudes with big hammers), but there is an increase in the Desert Sorceresses encountered. However, I had more trouble with the Old Iron King boss battle this time around. Fricking lava hole. 

I also hate the Gutter and Black Gulch with a fervent passion. There’s a respawning NPC invader. Some forest child or whatever. Screw him. 

I enjoyed how Dark Souls II flips Dark Souls I’s structure on its head. DS1 had you fight a bunch of bosses (while ringing two big bells) until you get to Anor Londo and retrieve the Lordvessel, at which point you go to kill four bosses to acquire their Lord Souls. The bosses are Gravelord Nito, the Bed of Chaos, Seath the Scaleless, and the Four Kings of New Londo. The former two (the Bed of Chaos being the Witch of Izalith) were holders of full Lord Souls, and the closest allies to Lord Gwyn, who also held a full Lord Soul. Seath the Scaleless and the Four Kings all have shards of a Lord Soul, though they still count towards satiating the Lordvessel. This allows access to the final area of the game, the Kiln of the First Flame, and the last boss, Gwyn, Lord of Cinders.

However acquiring ‘the souls of four’ is the player’s first objective in DS2, aside from being told that they may become the next monarch of Drangleic (a plot goal). Upon meeting the Emerald Herald, the effective Fire Keeper of Majula, she instructs the player to seek greater souls, to seek the Old Ones. Embracing these souls allow the player to reach Drangleic Castle, where they expect to encounter King Vendrick, former monarch of Drangleic. After playing the first game, the player may assume that Vendrick is the final boss as Gwyn was in the first game, but the game does a nice subversion in this. Vendrick isn’t at Drangleic Castle. Nor is he the final boss. Nor is he a mandatory boss, for that matter. Instead of Vendrick you find Nashandra, his queen, apparently ruling what remains of Drangleic in his stead. She charges you to find Vendrick. And so from Drangleic Castle we go to the Shrine of Amana (a terrible area by the way, it’s so long and open but filled with pits you can barely see because of the water agh) and from here we gain entry to the Undead Crypt. It is in the Undead Crypt that we discover Vendrick himself, having long gone hollow.

(If you’re unfamiliar with Dark Souls lore, many people are afflicted with the curse of the undead, and continually revive upon death, until they die so many times, losing sight of their goals and becoming a mindless zombo. This is a hollow.)

We don’t have to fight Vendrick at this point in time, and it’s even recommended against doing so, as he has absurdly high defenses. The only thing we need from here is the King’s Ring, a ‘symbol of the king’. This grants us access to Aldia’s Keep (note that Aldia was Vendrick’s sciencey brother), then the Dragon Aerie and Dragon Shrine. They changed up Dragon Shrine a lot. There’s two main types of enemies in Dragon Shrine, the Dragon Knights and the Drakekeepers. The Drakekeepers are practically suped up versions of the Old Knights in Heide’s Tower, so they’re easy. In the original DS2, the ultra challenging Dragon Knights only appeared in the latter half of the level, where you’re climbing a grand staircase. So color me surprised when I start Dragon Shrine and see at least two Dragon Knights standing beside the first Drakekeeper. Turns out they don’t attack you as long as you only attack the Drakekeepers, and you fight the sole Dragon Knight (colored gold instead of black) who attacks you on the stairs. This one’s like a challenge to see if you’re worthy of meeting the one awaiting you at the very end, the Ancient Dragon. So far, the ‘dragons’ you see in Dragon Aerie are all actually wyverns. Fortunately so, because in DS1′s backstory, the dragon population dwindled. However, this Ancient Dragon is a true dragon, at least in appearance. *snicker* 

It gives you the Ashen Mist Heart, which allows you to traverse memories of certain beings. 

You’re meant to use this item to access the memories of the four Giant corpses found throughout the Forest of Fallen Giants. Though, instead of perusing their memories, you’re whisked away body and all, far into the past where you find yourself fighting the very Giants that razed Drangleic in an infernal fury. As it turns out, you end up fighting and defeating the Giant Lord, who becomes the Last Giant in the present time that you fight in the beginning of the game, that itself attacks you in rage. It’s so GOOD. Anyways, the defeat of the Giant Lord awards you a non-physical item called the Giant’s Kinship, or the Resonance with Giants in the Japanese version. This item intrigues me to this very day.

Its description reads: "Each king has his rightful throne. And when he sits upon it, he sees what he chooses to see. Or perhaps, it is the throne, which shows the king only what he wants. The flames roar, but will soon begin to fade, and only a worthy heir might burnish their light. What is it, truly, a claimant of the throne could desire?"

The whole story of Vendrick (the backstory of the whole game, really) is something I find much more compelling than the story of Gwyn in the first game. From what I can make out (with help from VaatiVidya’s interpretation), Vendrick was once like us in that he vanquished old ones and acquired their Great Souls, and with their power he built his new kingdom of Drangleic. He became seduced by a woman named Nashandra, who convinced him that the Giants to the north were a threat, and so he crossed the sea and raided their lands. To please his now wife and queen, he stole something of great importance from the Giants, which is presumably the power to manipulate souls to power golems, which he used to build his Drangleic Castle. It appears it was built above the Kiln of the First Flame, becoming known as the Throne of Want. However, the curse of the undead appears in Drangleic, and Vendrick and his brother Aldia search for a cure to the curse. Aldia made his manor in the east, close to the Dragon Aerie. As dragons were immortal, Aldia may have assumed their properties could help in curing the curse of undeath. Yet, the dragons are long dead, so Aldia made his own, with a soul of a Giant. This is the Ancient Dragon you meet in the Dragon Shrine. And from Aldia and this false dragon, the Emerald Herald Shanalotte is made. They appear to have not found and made use of any answers in time, as the curse reached even Vendrick. He also realized that his wife Nashandra was in truth a shard of Manus, progenitor of the Abyss, the darkness in humankind, and that she lusted for power, lusted for the First Flame, the kiln of which was deep below the castle. However, the pathway to the Kiln (or, the Throne of Want, as it became known) could only be opened by Vendrick. And so he sealed himself away in the Undead Crypt, guarded by his knights, left to rot in the curse’s grip. Long after this, it is the player that finds him completely hollowed, mostly naked aside from his crown, a loincloth, and a massive sword he lugs around. The player is only able to reasonably fight the towering hollow by possessing Souls of Giants, which lower his defenses. I forget where I heard this from, but what this is meant to represent is that while Vendrick is unfathomably strong (having vanquished four Old Ones while still totally human, and therefore with the risk of a very permanent death), the Giant Souls radiate the hate that was borne for Vendrick in stealing...whatever it was he stole, even long after the Giants have died, and by their hate they can weaken Vendrick, or strengthen the player enough to be a match for this king.

SO. With the King’s Ring, the Ashen Mist Heart, and the Giant’s Kinship, the player returns to Drangleic Castle. They venture deep below to the Throne of Want, where they do battle with its last line of defense that Vendrick installed, the Throne Watcher and the Throne Defender. Then, they fight Nashandra, who has cast off her veil and revealed herself as a grotesque figure, of deep black flesh and a skeletal face. She wanted the player to get rid of the Throne’s (and the First Flame’s) defenses so she could sit it herself. 

It’s a nice plot for a Souls game, in my opinion. 

What I particularly like about DS2 in comparison to DS1 is that the player character has their own intial and personal motivations. In DS1 the player is freed from their cell in the Undead Asylum and are told by Oscar of Astora to ring the two Bells of Awakening. They do so, and find that they may be the Chosen Undead, one who would link the First Flame to their very soul, bolstering its blaze and stretching the gods’ Age of Fire once more, as Gwyn did. DS2′s protagonist simply wants to be rid of the curse, to find a cure for it, and are then told that others come to Drangleic seeking the same, and that to find it they must acquire the four Great Souls, they must become the next monarch. DS1′s character is driven by the plot, while DS2′s character’s motivation goes hand in hand with the plot. 

Another thing I like about Dark Souls II is the relation between the player character, and Vendrick and Aldia. They both sought answers to curing the undead curse. Vendrick peered into the very essence of the soul, and Aldia was a scholar of the First Sin, which is Gwyn linking the flame to his soul while he should have let it die out. While upon completion of the DLC, a still-sentient version of Vendrick (encountered in a memory-past through the Ashen Mist Heart) awards the player with a means to stave off the effects of the curse upon completion of the DLC trilogy, a power in crowns, the symbol of a monarch. While wearing one of the kings’ crowns, the player can die indefinitely with no risk of hollowing. However, this is no true cure, but a treatment for symptoms. But still, it’s something. (Helps a lot in the final boss battle against Nashandra, too.) Vendrick tells the player to seek adversities, to seek strength. He tells the player that by letting the flame die, humankind will become part of the Dark again, as is their true nature. This is clearly the choice between linking the First Flame to one’s soul and extending its time, and letting the flame die out to cast the world in an Age of Dark, an Age of Man. However, Vendrick questions whether this is our only choice, whether these are our only options. We learn that to link the fire and to let it die are effectively the same choice, as it is in a cycle. Let the flame die and eventually it will spark again. Link the flame and another Undead will eventually rise to make their choice. What of this third option Vendrick alludes to?

Aldia styles the player character ‘conqueror of adversities’, and if a certain ending is chosen, accompanies the player in their path to find a way to break the wheel, to shatter this cycle of endless linkings and snuffings of the First Flame.

I dunno I really like Dark Souls II.

Oh right this is supposed to be on my thoughts.

I think Scholar of the First Sin could have done more to fiddle with the game’s difficulty, but there’s a point to that that shouldn’t be crossed. Change too much and you don’t have Dark Souls II anymore. Some changes in the Scholar edition were good, some were bad, but I enjoyed my time. 

I may replay Dark Souls III again. I can’t wait for The Ringed City DLC to come out.

[ulyssessklein]

Plagiarism or Inspiration?

In the age of digital music and with years of loving and learning about the ever evolving electronic music scene, we are now well accustomed to everything we hear not being absolutely original. We love to hear a good cover version, unless they murder the song of course. By the way, “murdering it” is bad and “killing it” is good, in case you didn’t know! We also like to hear tracks that remind us of others, even if it’s subconscious memory. We have also grown extremely accustomed to hearing samples that we recognize taken from other songs, whether that be a vocal sample, a guitar lick or a drum break.

Two recent happenings that I believe could be extremely detrimental to the music industry and the folk who write music within it is the reason behind the introduction and why I write this article. Firstly, Pharrell Williams & Robin Thicke were successfully sued for over $7m by Marvin Gaye’s family for the track “Blurred Lines” ‘copying’ from “Got to Give It Up.”

Secondly, Ed Sheeran is now being sued for his track “Thinking Out Loud,” also by Marvin Gaye’s estate (family) for lifting from his classic hit “Let’s Get It On.”

Gaye’s family obviously quite enjoyed hitting the jackpot with “Blurred Lines” and have garnered an unhealthy taste for it. This could lead to an extremely worrying trend in the music business which would result in creativity being quashed.

Peter Oxendale, who worked the defense for the “Blurred Lines” case said “the songs have different structures, they have different underlying harmonies, they have different vocal melodies and they have entirely different lyrics. In fact, there are no two consecutive notes in the vocal melodies or even the bass lines that occur in the same place for the same duration.”

The defense did concede that the two songs do have a similar vibe however. Right ok, so now we can be sued for writing a song that feels a bit similar to another one! Artists and writers are in serious trouble if that’s the case. It would be understandable and expected if it was blatant plagiarism but neither of these examples are — and it leaves me feeling nervous that what has always been classed as inspiration can now be called Plagiarism. Let’s face it, The Beatles could sue Oasis for 50% of their repertoire.

The court papers in the case against “Thinking Out Loud” states that “the melodic, harmonic, and rhythmic compositions of “Thinking Out Loud” are substantially and/or strikingly similar to the drum composition of “Let’s Get It On.””

So they have a problem with the drum composition being similar! How many court cases would we have had if every ‘estate’ sued for a drum composition?

Well, I’ll try and give you an idea. I’m not talking about ‘strikingly similar’ here, I’m talking about actual, blatant plagiarism.

Let’s start with my personal favorite — and one you’ll probably all know.

Referred to as the “Amen Break,” it has a special place in my heart because it’s used in the beast of a tune “Straight Outa Compton” by NWA.

That’s all it has to have been used in to be a classic but the fact it’s been used in so many popular classics is quite frankly embarrassing for most other breaks. The original recording was by Gregory Sylvester “G. C.” Coleman, performed in the song “Amen, Brother” by funk and soul band The Winston’s in the 60’s.

The song is an instrumental up-tempo version of Jester Hairston’s “Amen,” which he wrote for the Sidney Poitier film Lilies of the Field in 1963. The Winston’s rendition was the B-side of the 45 RPM 7-inch vinyl single “Color Him Father” in 1969 on Metromedia.

Matrononix’s “King of the Beats” used it in 1988. Mr Mixx was the first to dismantle the loop and rearrange the sounds in a different pattern in 2 Live Crew’s “Feel Alright Y’all” in 1988.

This is when it gets even more interesting as it was used by Rock artists as well. Say what!

Oasis used it in their massive track ‘D’You Know What I Mean?’

Nine inch nails used it in “The Perfect Drug.”

It’s in Rammstein’s “Sehnsucht.”

And even Slipknot couldn’t resist its charms for their track “Eyeless.”

Then come really weird one’s like the theme music of Futurama and The Amazing Race.

Yes, you’re right, it’s pretty nuts. You can watch a full history of the break in this 18 min video. Just try to ignore the monotone voice and it’s extremely interesting.

The most interesting part of this drum break’s story is that G. C. Coleman and Richard L. Spencer have never received any royalties or clearance fees for the sample’s usage. Spencer has said that although using the sample is blatant plagiarism, he considers it flattering. That’s the spirit Richard!! Being inspired by others is what music has always been about. They wouldn’t have even had to be as vague as “strikingly similar” with any of these examples. They could just go to court and say “that’s ours” and they’d win!

Probably the most used drum break of all time must be the massive break from “Impeach the President” by The Honey Drippers, which is the spine, soul and even the personality to so many Hip-Hop tracks in its heyday.

DJ Premier used it in Biggie’s “Unbelievable” which is undoubtedly an all-time classic.

Properly old school tracks like the anthem “Top Billing” by Audio Two uses the break for the entire beat of the track, cooked up by the magician Daddy O.

Then there’s De La Soul’s “Ring Ring Ring (Ha Ha Hey)” where a slightly alternative approach was taken by Prince Paul. He took a disco loop from The Whatnauts and laid “Impeach the President” over it to create an entirely different feel.

James Brown’s beats from his tracks have been used thousands of times for decades and it must make J.B.’s drummer, the legendary Clyde Stubblefield the most sampled man in history.

There are so many other drum breaks I could list but I just wanted to touch on vocal samples, another area of plagiarism that the music world would be so much poorer for if the original owners of the samples started getting greedy and suing. Samples such as ‘f-f-f-freeeeesshhh’ used on so many 80’s rap records that it might as well wear a massive gold chain. On the b-side of Fab 5 Freddy’s female version of “Change the Beat,” the last few seconds reveals probably the most sampled sentence in history.

When Grand Mixer DST introduced the world to the art of mixing on Herbie Hancock’s “Rockit” in 1983, he not only revolutionized how the world would view the decks from then on (as an instrument), but he gave the sample a legendary status almost instantly.

The vocal sample “It takes 2 to make the things go right” from the 1972 track “Think (about it)” by Lynn Collins has been used by Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock, Dizzie Rascal, Janet Jackson, De La Soul and Public Enemy, to name a few.

All these tracks have used vibes from music that had already been written and the world would be a lot worse off without them. Just imagine if all these artists had been sued for using these samples; we would have missed out on so many amazing, inspiring tracks and my nights spent dancing in clubs would have been a lot less colourful for sure!

Oxendale is now working with labels and artists on ‘preemptive strikes.’ Advising artists on whether a track they’ve written is too similar to another that (AND instead) has influenced the writing. If he deems they are, he’ll advise a few changes here, a few changes there.

Let’s hope artists and writers can continue to be inspired by the music that inspires us all. Where would we be without George Harrisons “My Sweet Lord”?

Harrison was taken to court by The Chiffons for plagiarising their track “He’s So Fine.”

Although the judge in the case said that the tracks were almost identical, he was only guilty of subconscious plagiarism. Or Sam Smith’s recent smash “Stay with Me.”

Tom Petty didn’t take Sam Smith to court even though the chorus melody is pretty much identical to his track “I Won’t Back Down.” He said “these things happen.” Yes Tom, that’s the spirit!

I’d like to think that had Marvin Gaye been alive he’d have also gone along the “these things happen” avenue, but when it’s the family running the estate things become a bit trickier and maybe greed rears its ugly head a little easier.

Just as The Hollies co-writers Albert Hammond and Mike Hazelwood were given a writing credit on Radiohead’s “Creep” because of the similarity to their track “The Air that I Breathe,” Tom Petty was given a writing credit on “Stay with Me.” A much more sensible way to deal with the issue!

Quite hilariously, Vanilla Ice pointed out that his track “Ice Ice Baby” had one note different to Queen & Bowie’s “Under Pressure.” Let’s face it, Blurred Lines didn’t have any notes that were the same.

Let’s hope that the Gaye family haven’t set the ball rolling for others to claim foul play for music that has vague similarities, in what would be an inspiration crushing precedent for all writers and artists. I truly hope we can all still be inspired without being called a cheat.

Written by Track Spark’s Tim Chapman. Track Spark provide a monthly bundle of music production software. VST plugins, Sample packs, VST instruments, music loops & tutorials in a monthly download.

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