

As peaceful, positive rock gods, they’re the ideal bridge between heaven and Earth, past and present. Though their formation post-dates the birth of the hippie movement, Zeppelin was clearly a band whose optimistic, open spirit was influenced by the flower children.

Though Led Zeppelin didn’t actually play either titular festival, they’re playing both in the only venue that counts, Del Rey’s imagination: Her chorus reimagines their “Stairway to Heaven” as an actual passage to empyrean realms. With whom must you commune first to speak with the ultimate power? A very Catholic perspective (extending certain symbols in Honeymoon) is at work: The new song is marked by a sustained sense of intercession. There’s something strange afoot: Since God is already referred to in third-person, who is “you”? Since neither humans nor demons control access to God, “you,” presumably, is a member of His entourage: an angel, or at the very least a saint. “I’d trade the fame and the fortune and the legend / I’d give it all away if you give me just one day to ask Him one question,” she sings. The countryside setting coincides with her receiving dire international news - “tension rising over country lines,” though the phrasing leaves room to be read as country music verses.įather John isn’t the only Father in the song, though: In fact, he exists mostly as an emanation of a divinity who Del Rey identifies as male. There’s a change of emphasis too: Instead of being fully in the spotlight, she’s watching from the side, addressing a woman whose husband - it seems like she’s talking about Father John Misty - is playing onstage in Indio. The usual sweeping Del Rey sonics are cut through with ominous, persistent low tones, a correlation to the darkened horizons imposed by current events.

In keeping with the new age, the music on “Coachella” has altered. Lana Del Rey deals in images and memories, not things and facts, and her genius consists of delivering impressions of a shared identity between past and present so absolutely that the listener sees and hears nothing else. One’s neo-hipster in rural California in 2017, the other’s old-school hippie in rural New York in 1969, but such superficial contrasts pale before deep comparisons. This sense of connection is especially pronounced on the single she released last night, “Coachella - Woodstock in My Mind.” It’s right there in the title: Del Rey narrates her synoptic vision of the two music festivals. How cultures in the present make sense of their past is the question at the heart of her work. “Coachella” follows two previous releases from “Lust for Life,” “ Love” and the album’s title track, a duet with The Weeknd.Lana Del Rey has always been drawn to history, and what interests her the most is how history is drawn. The song carries on in the mold of many of her recent releases, neither a blockbuster nor a deep statement of intent, but rather a steady, solid progression in a career that’s built impressively from an unpromising beginning as a viral star (with the 2011 song “Video Games”) who delivered one of the most disastrous musical performances in “Saturday Night Live” history. The lyrics continue without a direct mention of politics except for the closing verse, which may be an elliptical reference to communicating with people in countries under media blackouts like North Korea: “Maybe my contribution/ Could be as small as hoping/ That words could turn to birds and birds would send my thoughts your way.” “I was at Coachella, leaning on your shoulder, watching your husband swing and shine/ I’d say it was hella cool to win them over, critics can be so mean sometimes.” The second verse seems to change the subject completely but does deliver one a vintage Del Rey lyric, snarky, sarcastic and self aware:
