There was Madonna’s MDNA.
There was P!nk’s The Truth About Love.
Rihanna’s ummm… album(s).
But nothing compares to the masterpiece that is Lana Del Rey’s Born To Die.
No fillers. Every track is a killer.
Every song is a story. Bad boys. Drugs. Heartache. Summer love. Love on the road. Rebel without a cause. That voice.
This was Lana’s year.
When your brother, who doesn’t give a flying fuck about mainstream music asks you “Who’s that girl that’s singin that song?” and puts Videogames as his alarm for an entire year, you best believe this was Lana’s year.
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