Lana Del Rey surprised us all this year by marrying Jeremy Dufrene, a Louisiana swamp tour guide. As if that weren’t enough of a shock, she also announced her upcoming album, “The Right Person Will Stay,” set to drop on May 21, 2025.
Teaming up once again with longtime producer Jack Antonoff, the album promises to delve deeper into Lana’s signature themes: love, identity and the fleeting beauty of life. In light of this announcement, I want to explore her music’s philosophical side and properly recognize her metaphysics degree from Fordham University.
Lana has always been more than just a pop culture icon. She is the melancholic muse of California dreams and heartbreak anthems, but her music goes far beyond that—it asks the big questions many of us grapple with in the deepest corners of our minds. Am I present in my life? What do I tend to glorify or strive for? Is the effort of chasing an intangible dream worth it? What does it mean to live beautifully and authentically, even if life is fleeting? With her personal life and art continuing to intertwine in the most poetic ways, Lana proves time and time again that she’s not just making music—she’s creating art that makes us feel something and question our reality.
I consider myself a deeply melancholic person, often romanticizing the past and glorifying a future yet to come. This leaves little time to focus on the present. Perhaps that is why I resonate so strongly with Del Rey’s work, which often romanticizes the past while simultaneously critiquing its illusions.
By glorifying mid-century Americana in her imagery and lyrics, she invites listeners to question the cost of chasing ideals rooted in a nostalgic, often exclusionary vision of beauty and culture. Songs like “National Anthem” revel in the glamour of material wealth and power, only to expose the emptiness beneath. It’s a critique wrapped in a love letter—a layered examination of the American Dream. As someone who isn’t American, I find myself constantly reflecting on this dream and the myths surrounding it.
In “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have – but I have it,” hope becomes both a lifeline and a burden. This duality reflects Albert Camus’ concept of absurdism—the tension between the human desire for meaning and the universe’s indifference. Hope is portrayed as a fragile, luminous thread and a heavy responsibility, mirroring the absurdist notion that meaning must be created in a meaningless world.
Del Rey’s exploration of hope transcends the personal, resonating with anyone navigating the struggle to hold onto optimism in the face of uncertainties. Ultimately, it’s not about the world giving you meaning; it’s about you creating it for yourself. As a college student juggling uncertainty and ambition, this theme often reoccurs in my daily life. Realizing there’s no inherent meaning in some things can feel overwhelming, but there’s a kind of freedom in knowing you get to decide what matters.
Del Rey’s music does more than entertain—it serves as a mirror, reflecting our struggles with identity, purpose and beauty. Her work challenges us listeners to confront the contradictions in our lives, making her not just a pop icon but a modern-day philosopher. Through her art, Del Rey reminds us that to live authentically is to embrace life in all its fleeting, imperfect and painful beauty. And as I count down the days until “The Right Person Will Stay,” one thing’s clear: she’ll keep making me ask the questions I’m too afraid to answer out loud.