Can I be honest for a moment? There is no way in hell Lana Del Rey’s album should be as good as it is. When an album is led by all the obvious singles – the title track, Blue Jeans and Video Games have already been released, and I would be completely stunned if Off to the Races didn’t get the single treatment – that is never a good sign; the words ‘safety net’ come to mind. And yes, the first four songs on the album are the best by quite a stretch, but that is not to say that there is a massive drop-off in quality. Born to Die is surprisingly well-rounded; it’s hugely front-loaded, sure, but then again, most pop albums are.

I was expecting Lizzie Grant to crash and burn, but the truth of the matter is that her new record does not need to live up to its superlative beginnings. It was never going to be the finished article, despite all the hype (and my god, the hype quickly became insufferable), and what we’re left with is an album that is good. Surprisingly good, in my opinion, and flat-out brilliant in some places. Video Games is a fantastic single and works just as well in album context as it does on its own. It’s a shame that there’s not really any hidden gem present on the remainder of the album, although Summertime Sadness gives the last third of the album a well-timed shot in the arm.

I say well-timed, because even though all the songs on Born to Die are ‘good’ to various extents, the production becomes a bit samey after a while: strings are present across the entire album; the beats, when present, are all cut from the same cloth; and there is a considerable amount of reverb on Del Rey’s vocals throughout. That last technique is necessary, however – despite Del Rey having a good voice and an agreeable singing style, her range seems limited, to the extent that she has resort to things like the semi-rapped delivery on Off to the Races (and borderline yelping during the chorus).

When using her lower register, the results are better, as Radio and National Anthem attest to – even if the latter suffers from poor lyrics (a criticism that could be levelled at several songs on the album; more on this later): ‘Money is the reason we exist / Everybody knows it, it’s a fact (kiss kiss)’. Really, Lizzie? there are a number of similar declarations on the album, and the only conclusion that can be drawn from that is that she’s drawing from a fairly shallow pool of lyrical content. On that note: I can’t tell whether ‘Pabst Blue Ribbon on ice’ from closer This is What Makes Us Girls is amusing or cringeworthy.

So: melodramatic production, lyrics that often enter clichéd territory and pacing issues. This must mean it’s bad, right? Obviously, your mileage will vary on that (and this is an opinion-splitting record), but the songs themselves are the best thing about Born to Die, which is the way it should be. Stripping away all the bullshit about her contrived image, and nervous live performances (of course she’s going to be nervous – riding a wave of hype for six months will do that to most anyone), the end result is an album that is consistently enjoyable.

Say what you want about her, but when it comes down to the songs, there is enough evidence here to suggest that Grant is not dead yet. You can call her a guilty pleasure if you want, but  I don’t do guilty pleasures. I like what I like, and I like this album. Is it flawed? Definitely. Has she got work to do? Yes she does, without a doubt. Has she got potential? Absolutely. Whether you love her, hate her or are completely indifferent towards her, Lana Del Rey is here to stay.