# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
While original film scores are tailor-made for visuals on screen, creating the perfect soundtrack is an art unto itself. With the right song, at the right moment, it can convey what a character is feeling, hint at a deeper theme, or sear a cinematic moment into your mind forever. The best film soundtracks can act as a snapshot in time, capture a specific musical era, or shed light on the songs from yesteryear and recontextualize them for a modern age.

In the pre-Napster and streaming days, soundtracks served as de facto mixtapes for music discovery. Whether they came pre-packaged with hip, underground artists or a strategic selection of vintage tracks brought back to light, it was simultaneously a creative and marketing tool that often catered to younger audiences. Soundtracks also served as a piece of film memorabilia, letting audiences replay the best moments of film in their head before it was released on video.

With a renewed popularity in soundtracks in recent years, thanks to the likes of big blockbusters embracing the medium, here's a look at some of the best film soundtracks that put music front and center.

For many, the conversation around film soundtracks begins and ends with John Hughes. The beloved director not only chronicled teenage existentialism on screen but gave it its own enduring mixtape. With Judd Nelson's defiant fist in the air, Simple Minds' "Don't You (Forget About Me)" became the official anthem of a generation. With his penchant for new wave hits the likes of OMD's "If You Leave," "If You Were Here" by The Thompson Twins and, of course, The Psychedelic Furs "Pretty In Pink" (which he named his 1986 film after), Hughes reimagined suburbia as an exotic setting, rife with rediscovery and stylishly dressed adolescents.

Sandwiched between INXS, The Smiths, and Echo And The Bunnymen, is the iconic scene of Jon Cryer reaching ecstatic fits to Otis Redding's "Try A Little Tenderness" in Pretty In Pink, a song which didn't even make the soundtrack but remains an indelible part of the film. The same could be said for Wayne Newton's "Danke Schoen," a then 20-plus-year-old song that suddenly became the hottest thing since sliced bread when Matthew Broderick performed it in the parade scene in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Hughes' affinity for classic R&B and lip-synching also gifted audiences with John Candy bopping along to Ray Charles' "Mess Around" in Planes, Trains And Automobiles, a hilarious scene not to be attempted at home.

While Pretty In Pink remains the quintessential teen movie soundtrack, Hughes' previous film, Weird Science, and its accompanying soundtrack made up for its questionable gender politics with killer music. From Mike Oldfield's "Tubular Bells" to the theme song by Oingo Boingo and "Tenderness" by General Public, which previously made an appearance in Sixteen Candles and later on in another coming-of-age film, Clueless.

Another perfect distillation of American class consciousness, teen romance, and youth culture - with an Austenian twist - Clueless reinvigorated the teen film genre, and its genre-spanning soundtrack covered all the scenes of the decade, including alt.rock, pop, rap, ska, and retro covers (though, noticeably, no grunge). The platinum soundtrack is stacked with Capitol artists (thanks to a famous $1 million advance from the label) that includes Counting Crows covering The Psychedelic Furs' "The Ghost In You," Luscious Jackson, pop-punks Smoking Popes, Coolio (who'd been enjoying a soundtrack boost from the film Dangerous Minds) and even a nod to the Britpop phenomenon at the time with teen anthem "Alright," by Supergrass.

In addition to some great covers of Mott The Hoople's "All The Young Dudes" and Kim Wilde's 1981 hit "Kids In America," Clueless appealed to the more indie crowd, including the college radio staple Velocity Girl's "My Forgotten Favorite," and even Radiohead, who contributed an acoustic version of "Fake Plastic Trees" despite being described as the "maudlin music of the university station." The enduring popularity of the Clueless soundtrack is also heavily indebted to music supervisor Karyn Rachtman, who was responsible for curating other great soundtracks of that time, including Boogie Nights, Reservoir Dogs, and Pulp Fiction.

If John Hughes was the grand architect of 80s film soundtracks, then Quentin Tarantino was the auteur of 90s soundtracks. How else do you explain Harry Nilsson's "Coconut" being in regular rotation at college parties in 1992? Based on his filmography, it's clear Tarantino was not only a careful student of classic cinema but also of classic albums. In this way, he owes more to Martin Scorsese than John Hughes, picking up the former's knack for finding a classic song, only to completely redefine its meaning through its - often grisly - use on screen.

As Tarantino explained in the liner notes to The Tarantino Experience: Ultimate Tribute To Quentin Tarantino album, "When I have an idea for a film, I go through my record collection and just start playing songs, trying to find the personality of the movie, find the spirit of the movie." This reverse-engineering has resulted in Dick "King Of The Surf Guitar" Dale's "Misirlou" during the opening of Pulp Fiction, turned Nancy Sinatra's "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" into a revenge ballad, and explains why you feel a twinge of pain every time you hear "Stuck In The Middle With You" by Stealers Wheel.

Throughout the 90s, directors became synonymous with a musical signature in a bid to further establish their authenticity with a slick soundtrack. Rolling Stone writer turned writer-director Cameron Crowe picked up the mantle of Hughes and expertly soundtracked the awkward passage to adulthood with films such as Say Anything, the flannel-heavy Singles (whose soundtrack featured Chris Cornell performing as the fictional Poncier and his semi-autobiographical Almost Famous, about a fictional 70s stadium rock band that had teenagers once again singing along to "I've Seen All Good People" by Yes and gave Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" a renewed boost in popularity.

For many teenagers, film soundtracks offered a gateway to a scene they otherwise might not have explored. Budding punks dreamed of leaving the shackles of the suburbs while listening to LA hardcore band The Fear off SLC Punk!, skater kids ate up every Kevin Smith release ( Clerks and Mallrats among them) while others grooved to Kid 'N Play and Public Enemy cuts on the House Party soundtrack. Not to mention that nearly every teenager owned a copy of Empire Records and incorporated "Damn The Man" into their vocabulary.

Film soundtracks were also essential in breaking foreign artists overseas. Would The Verve and Placebo have made such a splash stateside without appearing on the Cruel Intentions soundtrack? Would UK electronic act Underworld be a household name in the US without Trainspotting?

Another seminal teen drama that served as a springboard for international talent was 10 Things I Hate About You. The 1999 rom-com repackaged Shakespeare's Taming Of The Shrew for the late 90s generation, and introduced America to two of Australia's newest imports: Spiderbait and Heath Ledger. Spiderbait's "Calypso" first appeared on their 1996 album Ivy and the Big Apples and reached No.13 on the ARIA singles chart, but when it appeared in a key scene in the film three years later, it was on everyone's radar.

Art house cinema was also fertile ground for film soundtracks. Paul Thomas Anderson brought disco back in the 90s on Boogie Nights, The Coen Brothers birthed the ultimate stoner soundtrack with their use of Kenny Rogers' "Just Dropped In (to See What Condition My Condition Was In)," The Gipsy Kings' cover of "Hotel California" and lots of Creedence Clearwater Revival on The Big Lebowski. And let's not forget Baz Luhrmann's ambitious remake of Romeo + Juliet as teenage SoCal heartthrobs that contained two volumes' worth of The Butthole Surfers, Garbage, Radiohead and other 90s favorites.

The trend would continue well into the 00s, with other indie film darlings meticulously crafting film soundtracks as a showcase for their impressive musical taste. It's impossible to listen to Air's dreamy "Playground Love" without thinking of Sofia Coppola's The Virgin Suicides, or the obscure Bollywood track "Jaan Pehechan Ho," from the film adaptation of Daniel Clowes' beloved graphic novel Ghost World.

But the true tastemaker of soundtrack music in the post-00s was Wes Anderson. Since his debut film, Bottle Rocket, Anderson and his dream team, made up of music supervisor Randall Poster and composer and Devo legend Mark Mothersbaugh, have used music to construct the whimsical worlds and characters you see on screen. Rarely has there been a filmmaker that's so inseparable from his music, making Anderson cinema's ultimate sampler.

Like Tarantino, Anderson often chooses his music first before filming and constructs characters and narratives around his selections, making his scenes come across like music videos for more obscure artists that time forgot. For Rushmore, he delves into the lesser-known acts of the British Invasion, including Unit 4 + 2, The Creation, and Chad And Jeremy. For The Royal Tenenbaums, what else would disaffected urbanites listen to other than Nico, Elliott Smith, and Nick Drake? But perhaps his most inspired move was to cast Brazilian singer-songwriter Seu Jorge as the singing sailor in The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou. The movie may have flopped, but Jorge's acoustic samba renditions of David Bowie songs in Portuguese were a hit.

When the physical soundtracks market started to dry up in the 2010s, music supervisors and labels no longer had the big budgets to commission original songs. Enter streaming services and the resurgence and redemption of film soundtracks. With the right sync license, older and current artists get to simultaneously introduce their music to a new set of fans and have moviegoers explore their wider discography. Just in 2017, the classic rock-driven Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol.2 soundtrack became the first soundtrack album made up entirely of previously released songs to hit No.1 on the Billboard charts.

With the success of Guardians..., other directors followed suit, including Edgar Wright's Baby Driver (though Wright previously had a strong track record of great soundtrack albums, including Scott Pilgrim Vs the World, featuring original songs by Beck, and Shaun Of The Dead). No matter what the medium: be it an old LP of The Graduate, He Got Game on cassette, or your 24 Hour Party People CD, you can rest easy that film soundtracks are alive and well.

Looking for more? Discover the 50 Best Film Scores Of All Time.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Film Soundtracks: How Movies Become Discoveries Through Music

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
While original film scores are tailor-made for visuals on screen, creating the perfect soundtrack is an art unto itself. With the right song, at the right moment, it can convey what a character is feeling, hint at a deeper theme, or sear a cinematic moment into your mind forever.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
If you took a second to close your eyes and think about Star Wars, what comes to mind? What are you hearing? Laser blasters, lightsabers, possibly a dramatic score by John Williams? For the major films in pop culture, music in film plays a major role in developing the themes and tone of the production.

For scores of a more subtle nature or even in commercial work, music still shapes how we perceive the visual imagery on screen.

For example, imagine a scene where our main actor is running through a field. The brush is tall and they are running at a fast pace with no clear emotion on their face. In the background you hear a brooding horror soundtrack with shrill violins and low end rumbles. How are you feeling for our actor? Scared or concerned?

Now imagine the same scene, our actor running through the field, but this time an inspiring action soundtrack emerges. Triumphant brass and orchestra take charge and sound just like your favourite super hero flick. What are you feeling now? Probably something different than our last example.

Though the change of soundtrack for our scene was subtle, the interpretation of the scene changed dramatically. The same principle applies to all of film - whether it's a toothpaste commercial or blockbuster hit. If you're looking for great commercial music, stock music subscription or library sites may be a good bet. If you're making the next Avengers movie, better hire a professional composer.

Here is my favourite video on how music impacts all types of filmmaking:

But what about removing music all-together? Now that we know that changing a soundtrack can change the scene, will removing it do the same? In short, the answer is yes. While there are plenty of wonderful silent films out there, most films need a score. Don't believe me? Let's bring this full circle and look at an iconic scene from Star Wars at the end of The Force Awakens where Rey climbs to the top of the island to meet Luke Skywalker for the first time.

I'm cherry-picking this scene because there is nearly no dialogue for the entire 3-minute scene and John Williams has his score do most of the talking. I've found two clips of this scene, one with and without music, and I think it will blow your mind. In particular, pay attention to how awkward and strange the last 30 seconds are compared to the version with the score. The scored version is powerful, literally showing how music creates a language and emotion of its own.

Original:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfsG-ZXyjeA
Without Score:

Music plays into emotions more than you may realise and when it comes to filmmaking it is one of those essential things that can really make or break a production. The next time you are looking for production music, take your time and think about how your viewer may interpret your scene based on the supporting music.

Did You Know?

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
The Importance of Music on Film & Emotion

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
If you took a second to close your eyes and think about Star Wars, what comes to mind? What are you hearing? Laser blasters, lightsabers, possibly a dramatic score by John Williams? For the major films in pop culture, music in film plays a major role in developing the themes and tone of the production.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
To compose . . . is to give to do, not to give to hear but to give to write. The modern location for music is not in the concert hall, but the stage on which the musicians pass . . . from one source of sound to another.
(Barthes, Musica Practica)
We know that a text is not a line of words releasing a single theoretical meaning (the message of the Author-God) but a multi-dimensional space in which a variety of writings, none of them original, blend and crash. The text is a tissue of quotations drawn from the innumerable centres of culture.
(Barthes, The Death of the Author)

To confront music is to address the issue of being composed. Such a statement seems counterintuitive, perhaps. But ever since Nietzsche located the best of a culture from out of its eruptions through music, and ever since Adorno diagnosed the worst of a culture through its music, the close link between music and its hearing seems less secure. The legacy of Hebdiges Subculture: The Meaning of Style and Marcus Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century is to extend the modern location for music beyond the concert hall, and also beyond the stage, to the text. The move is not only from one sound to another, but from one semiotically rich scene to another, one genealogy to another, one legacy to another, and all in search of new sources, new links, new writings.

For Cixous, Writing is the delicate, difficult, and dangerous means of succeeding in avowing the unavowable ( Three Steps 53). And this is doubly so with music. In a fashion unlike other subjects, music is hard to write about. Unlike the landscape of the written text, the soundscape is noticeably deterritorialized. A soundscape, in the terminology of Deleuze and Guattari, is a smooth space of writing/music/culture rather than a striated space of writing, music, culture. This trinary complex, this smooth space, is not to be taken as our creation. Rather than a creation of writers, it is a creation of writing. Heidegger has told us that language is the house of Being, and in that house it is language that speaks us. But music does not speak, nor does it speak us. Music is neither composer nor composed; rather, it is a sound-image that composes--creates compositions, assemblages, links. Music composes us when we listen to it and when we write about it.

As a deterritorial force, music has no meaning. Meaning is written into music. Because music does not speak, various cultural, political, and/or economic discourses try to territorialize it, make it speak with an Author-God meaning. Geoff Sirc, in Godless Composition, Tormented Writing, quotes Batailles Guilty: Writings always only a game played with ungraspable reality . . . (qtd. 549). On various levels, all of the pieces in this issue are dealing with the way culture comes in to write this ungraspable excess, music, and by extension those who consume it--live in it. Best and Kellner address the way Rap gets written into the political landscape. Erickson examines the difficulty criticism has had with its attempts to territorialize music. Whalley investigates the way avant-garde music is territorialized by the university structure, and is taken away from its mass cultural context. Robe, on the other hand, shows how avant-garde techniques can function within a mass cultural context without necessarily being territorialized. In the content and style of his writing, Schneidermann creates an analog for the deterritorialized position he ascribes for music. Both Cole and Isaksen discuss the way music, image and style write either dominant or resistant identities--the way music composes us. For Gray, resistant readings are coded by the cultural context in such a way as to subvert a decisive reading. Pattie examines the quality of authenticity and shows how it gets constructed and written into music/culture. Similarly, White investigates the way the author-function codes our reading of music, and how that function can be called to our attention.

Because only language speaks, it must speak for music. And when we write about music, we can only do so through a discussion of its relationship to culture. Again, music is not composed, not just a composition, but an active force in composing new relations, new evocations, between self and other, between language and mood, between culture and individuals. As it arranges and assembles, language glides over the mobile surfaces of these junctions, setting into writing cultural nodes of musical meaning. But this process of writing elides how music is in itself already a writing in everything but name--it writes us as it composes. The question is more than just one of perspective, but one of traversing the very conceptual field that defines what music and writing are, and that holds them within a particular boundary of each other within that field. As Sirc points out in Godless Composition, [c]omposition never seems to ask the question (to paraphrase Duchamp) whether one can make works which are not works of writing (543). Pattie, for instance, notes that music is designated authentic or inauthentic via a series of performances. A performance constitutes a composition not only between the performer and the audience, but also between the performer, critic, and audience. Both the musical performance and the written performance of the critic are equally writings--attempts to produce territorializations of sound that arise precisely from the interplay of musical affect and performativity.

Whalley, for example, discusses the way the University structure actually performs a decomposition, separating avant-garde music from possible compositions with an audience. The isolation of this music, the limited purview of its compositional potential, functions to decompose music as the performance of cultural writing, or at least to confine it to the culture of the university. We are reminded here of what Gregory Ulmer says in The Object of Post-Criticism, that [u]nlike Heidegger, who declared that art speaks, Derrida insists on the muteness of the series, or on its capacity to work without concept, without conclusions (93). Whalley tells us that regardless of how a music is confined and limited in its capacity to perform its composition with a social body, it nevertheless continues its compositional work beyond the threshold of the concept and far from the defining limit of the conclusion. Its compositional purview, that is, transcends all conceptions we might have of audience, reception, and definition. Music composes us, but not solely on the basis of who we are as an audience, as a social body, as a culture; rather, its compositional force stems precisely from its muteness, its demand to evoke from us both speech and affect. Its power lies precisely in its incommensurability with language, but this incommensurability cannot nevertheless be said to preclude its compositional force as a form of cultural writing.

Perhaps a more specific discussion of the mode of composition in practice is in order here. As part of its territorialization of avant-garde forms, the university provides composers with technology--the synthesizers, the studios, the spaces for performance. The sound machine, as Deleuze calls it, is not a machine for reproducing sounds. Rather, it

molecularizes and atomizes, ionizes sound matter. . . . By assembling modules, source elements, and elements for treating sounds (oscillators, generators, and transformers), by arranging microintervals, the synthesizer makes audible the sound process itself, the production of that process, and puts us in contact with still other elements beyond sound matter. (A Thousand Plateaus 343)
In other words, the synthesizer is not simply about reproducing sounds, but about creating compositions. It is an interface between the composer and the process of composition--musical, social, and aesthetic--that makes the excess of music speak.
It unites disparate elements in the material, and transposes the parameters from one formula to another. The synthesizer, with its operation of consistency [composition], has taken the place of the ground in a priori synthetic judgment: its synthesis is of the molecular and the cosmic, material and force, not form and matter, Grund and territory. (A Thousand Plateaus 343)
We think that this aspect of synthesis--its existence as a compositional assemblage, not as the notational writing of music--is musics writing, and that it is most evident in electronic avant-garde music. Punapau, for example, creates compositions in Deleuzes sense through its (his) found-object-sound approach. By bringing in sounds from the global computer-scape, the music creates linkages that call attention to musics composed nature, that call attention to musics deterritorialized state. dIberville, too, is more interested in soundscapes than pop forms. Music confined to a pop form just sounds territorialized. The open form of avant-garde electronic music positions it in the place of the ground of a priori synthetic judgment. Its formlessness is the ground of compositions.
As Dave Rieder notes in his review of Pan(a)Sonic, it is the formlessness of the body-without-organs that provides the basis for compositions. For him, Pan(a)Sonics music is more about the body than the ear--the listener senses it as much as hears it. These soundscapes function on a plane of immanence to break the body down into a series of resonating zones of affection. The body becomes a tuning fork for bleeps and waves. Berthier (dIberville) notes that one listener christened his music blip-hop. But perhaps paradoxically, composing the music is more detached for him than the immersion of playing in a rock band. He notes that he feels more like a listener when he is linking blips and waves of sound over beats. But perhaps his position would seem less detached when considering his composing process. He constructs his tracks by letting the computer make the sounds, then selecting bits and pieces to add to or subtract from. In describing this process he notes the materiality of sound, and how the writer/composer must listen to it, feel it, ferret out its hidden order. The composer must let the sounds determine their own form, rather than force them into a pop-song format. The composer traces a history without words, building a track out of sounds. And when subtracting from a sound-image, the composer removes layers of sound to unconceal a new sound, make a new sound more visible, bring out its compositional potential. For us, this process is a bodily immersion in sound that provides a way of avowing the unavowable--it becomes a game played with ungraspable reality. Mario Menzerolf seconds this feeling, this affection, in his selection of the name Punapau as the signifier for his art work. The name was taken from a spot on Easter Island that looks out over an endless ocean; his experience there made him think (feel) how imagination changes perception. Perhaps we can see that this imaginative change in perception is already on the way towards a transformation/composition not only of sound, not only of experience, but of a world.

When we put out the call for papers for this Issue, we had little in the way of preconceptions beyond the feeling that we would be getting a good reading of the current state of music writing. As might be expected, Cultural Studies remains the dominant influence for articulating links between music and culture, and there is accordingly a definite slant toward the political in the submissions we received. But as much as Cultural Studies offers, we find ourselves most fascinated with how the music itself tends to create alternate compositions within that framework, threatening the dissolution of the very methodology used to make it speak. The music asks that we listen to it, and when we listen with the ears to hear it, we are changed. From the politically-charged voices of the rapper and the riot grrrl to the more ephemeral qualities of New Zealandss avant-garde and the post-rock eloquence of Tortoise and Pan(a)Sonic, the music itself challenges received boundaries, meanings, and definitions. If Cultural Studies as an established methodology is a boundary limit, then its object in this issue, the music, functions to stretch that boundary as well. But it is necessary to see that such a stretching of boundaries is already a politics by another name. Recall that Nietzsche understood Socrates deathbed wish that he would have learned to play a musical instrument as a form of recantation from the rational rigor of philosophy. How are we to understand this except that music is itself already a form of social transformation, a politics of the uncanny, the unsaid, the unthought. And writing this politics is precisely a writers work. As music composes us, newly and differently than we were, we too recompose ourselves as we write these musics.

Works Cited

Barthes, Roland. The Death of the Author. Image/Music/Text. Trans. Stephen Heath. New York: Noonday Press, 1977. 142-48.

- - - . Musica Practica. Image/Music/Text. Trans. Stephen Heath. New York: Noonday Press, 1977. 149-54.

Cixous, Helene. Three Steps on the Ladder of Writing. Trans. Sarah Cornell Susan Sellers. New York: Columbia U P, 1993.

Deleuze, Gilles and Feliz Guatarri. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. Trans. Brian Massumi. Minneapolis, MN: U of Minnesota P, 1987.

Hebdige, Dick. Subculture: The Meaning of Style. 1979. New York: Routledge, 1991.

Marcus, Greil. Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the Twentieth Century. Cambride, MA: Harvard U P, 1989.

Sirc, Geoff. Godless Composition, Tormented Writing. JAC 15.3 (1995): 543-64.

Ulmer, Gregory. The Object of Post-Criticism. The Anti-Aesthetic: Essays on Postmodern Culture. Ed. Hal Foster. Seattle, WA: Bay Press, 1983. 83-110.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Enculturation: Thomas Rickert and Byron Hawk

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
To compose . . . is to give to do, not to give to hear but to give to write. The modern location for music is not in the concert hall, but the stage on which the musicians pass . . . from one source of sound to another.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
8. Current feminist theory may resist this essentialist tie to the biological, but it does present another interesting side of post-structuralist theory's relationship to musicology. ( back)

Works Cited

Abbate, Carolyn. Unsung Voices: Opera and Musical Narrative in the Nineteenth Century. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991.

Ayrey, Craig. "Debussy's Significant Connection: Metaphor and Metonymy in Analytical Method." In Pople, 127-151.

Blanchot, Maurice. The Space of Literature. Trans. Ann Smock. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1982.

Caputo, John. Radical Hermeneutics: Repetition, Deconstruction and the Hermeneutic Project. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1987.

Cavell, Stanley. Must We Mean What We Say? New York: Scribner, 1969.

Cone, Edward T. "The Picture and the Frame: The Nature of Musical Form." Musical Form and Musical Performance. New York: W. W. Norton and Company, 1968. 11-56.

- - - . "Schubert's Promissory Note: An Exercise in Musical Hermeneutics." 19th-Century Music 5 (1982): 233-41.

Dahlhaus, Carl. "Fragments of a Musical Hermeneutics." Current Musicology V. 50 (1992): 5-20.

Davidson, Donald. Inquiries Into Truth and Interpretation. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984.

de Man, Paul. Blindness and Insight. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1983.

Derrida, Jacques. of Grammatology. Trans. G. Spivak. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1976.

- - - . The Truth in Painting. Trans. Geoff Bennington and Ian McLeod. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987.

- - - . Writing and Difference. Trans. Alan Bass. University of Chicago Press. Chicago, 1978.

Goehr, Lydia. "Schopenhauer and the Musicians: an Inquiry into the Sounds of Silence and the Limits of Philosophizing about Music." In Jacquette, 200-228.

Gould, Glenn. The Glenn Gould Reader. Ed. Tim Page. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1985.

Grey, Thomas. "Metaphorical Modes in Nineteenth-Century Music Criticism: Image, Narrative, and Idea." In Scher, 93-117.

Guck, Marion. "Analytical Fictions." Typescript, 1984.

- - - . "Musical Images as Musical Thoughts: The Contribution of Metaphor to Analysis." In Theory Only 5 (June 1981): 29-42.

- - - . "Rehabilitating the Incorrigible." In Pople, 57-73.

- - - . "Two Types of Metaphoric Transference." In Robinson, 57-73.

Hartman, Geoffrey H. Criticism in the Wilderness: The Study of Literature Today. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1980.

Irigaray, Luce. "This Sex Which Is Not One." Feminisms: An Anthology of Literary Theory and Criticism. Ed. Robyn R. Warhol and Diane Price Herndl. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1991. 404-412.

Jacquette. Dale, ed. Schopenhauer, Philosophy, and the Arts. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996.

Kerman, Joseph. Analysis, Theory and New Music." Contemplating Musicology: Challenges to Musicology. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1985. 60-112.

- - - . "The State of Academic Music Criticsm." In Price, 38-54.

Kivy, Peter. "A New Music Criticism?" The Fine Art of Repetition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. 296-323.

Lakoff, George. "The Contemporary Theory of Metaphor." In Ortony, 202-251.

Maus, Fred Everett. "Masculine Discourse in Music Theory." PNM 31/2 (Summer 1993): 264-93.

McClary, Susan. "The Impromptu That Trod on a Loaf: or How Music Tells Stories." Narrative Vol. 5, No. 1 (Jan 1997): 20-35.

- - - . "A Musical Dialectic from the Enlightenment: Mozart's Piano Concerto in G Major, K. 453, Movement 2." Cultural Critique 4 (Fall 1986): 129-169.

Ortony, Andrew, ed. Metaphor and Thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979.

Pople, Anthony, ed. Theory, Analysis and Meaning in Music. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994.

Price, Kingsley, ed. On Criticizing Music: Five Philosophical Perspectives. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1981.

Robinson, Jenefer, ed. Music and Meaning. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997.

Rorty, Richard. Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986.

- - - . Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989.

- - - . Objectivity, Relativism, and Truth: Philosophical Papers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

Scher, Steven Paul. Music and Text: Critical Inquiries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Subotnik, Rose Rosengard. Deconstructive Variations: Music and Reason in Western Society. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996.

Treitler, Leo. "Language and the Interpretation of Music." Music and Meaning. Ed. Jenefer Robinson. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1997. 23-56.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Philosophical Investigations. Trans. G.E.M. Anscombe. New York: Macmillan, 1953.

Zemp, Hugo. "'Are' Are Classification of Musical Types and Instruments." Ethnomusicology (January 1978): 37-64.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
8. Current feminist theory may resist this essentialist tie to the biological, but it does present another interesting side of post-structuralist theory's relationship to musicology. ( back) Works Cited Abbate, Carolyn. Unsung Voices: Opera and Musical Narrative in the Nineteenth Century. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991. Ayrey, Craig.

# data[].attributes.body
This article discusses about Del Rey and how her lyricism matched well with famous poets. As well as discuss her many themes and messages in many of her songs.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
I was introduced to Lana Del Rey by way of Baz Luhrmann and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Her haunting line "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" soared over the upturned face of Daisy Buchanan as Jay Gatsby threw down silk shirts from a balcony in the bombastic 2013 film. Three years later, the song would make it onto a mixtape playlist that defined a love affair that would upturn my life, eventually sending me to university with an insatiable curiosity for what made humans so lovely, so sad, so brilliant, and troubled. By this time, Lana Del Rey had released five albums and had become a respected musician, lyricist, poet, and music video director.

But I didn't know this.

To me, and to so many others who had gotten little more than a glimpse of her, Lana Del Rey was a pop princess, all cat-eyes and bouffants and little dresses. So when I purchased her 2012 album Born to Die last summer as pop music for sunbathing, I was floored to find that her lyrics reveal a woman well versed in American music and literature, a contemporary poet in the style of Walt Whitman and Allen Ginsberg, both of whom she quotes outright in her work. Her literary references are seemingly endless, including Robert Frost, Vladimir Nabokov, William Ernest Henley, and Sylvia Plath in a list that is by no means exhaustive. I immediately bought two more records, the companion album Paradise and her 2014 album Ultraviolence. By a strange coincidence, her music became a soundtrack to Fitzgerald again since I was reading Tender Is the Night at the time, followed by the essays of David Foster Wallace. I was also immersed in David Lynch's Twin Peaks. It became a summer of tortured geniuses using hedonism as a means of hiding from despair. Perhaps because she was the only woman in the bunch, I became a little obsessed with Lana Del Rey's artistry and her uncomfortable, haunting, and sometimes shocking body of work.

Most of Del Rey's songs wrestle with her overlapping roles as an artist and woman, especially as a lover to problematic men. In her early Born to Die and Paradise albums, there is a candy-coated glamour to being the beautiful muse of the wealthy playboy, a relationship Del Rey depicts with a girlish delight ("Off to the Races" and "Cola"), which sits side by side with a sort of self-destructive plea for salvation from the emptiness of it all ("Born to Die" and "Ride.") This glamorization of her own objectification was the source of some criticism, and she retired the song "Cola" from her repertoire in the wake of the #MeToo movement, uncomfortable with the now-gauche line "Harvey's in the sky with diamonds and he's making me crazy/ All he wants to do is party with his pretty babies."

Norman Fucking Rockwell! reveals an artist coming into her maturity as a songwriter and lyricist.

Late last August, Del Rey released her sixth album, Your poetry's bad and you blame the news. / But I can't change that, and I can't change your mood. / 'Cause you're just a man / It's just what you do / Your head in your hands as you color me blue." If the lyrics themselves don't remind the listener of Joni Mitchell's iconic album Norman Fucking Rockwell!The first and title track seemingly reveals an artist coming into her maturity as a songwriter and lyricist. It is being hailed as her best album yet, filled with the kind of hard-earned wisdom that only experience can bring. " Blue, the instrumentation and Del Rey's vocalization will take them there. "Mariner's Apartment Complex" leaves behind the image of the baby-girl beauty queen with the bad-boy daddy and is the first time Del Rey has sung from the point of view of a woman who acts as the anchor of the relationship. The song is an anthem for the sensitive and the beautiful, beginning with the haunting "you took my sadness out of context. . . . I ain't no candle in the wind. I'm the bolt, the lightning, the thunder." As she sweeps into the chorus, she makes the change in perspective explicit-and gendered. "[If] you're lost at sea then I'll command your boat to me again. . . . I'm your man."

Released the same week that social media raised awareness for the burning Amazon, Del Rey's music video for "The Greatest" lamented that "the culture is lit and if this is it I've had a ball / I guess that I'm signing off after all" in a kind of swan song that captured the hopelessness of young Americans that had spent the last four years on the steps of capitols, tired of marching, tired of fighting, and too terrified to rest. "LA is in flames, it's getting hot / Kanye West is blond and gone / 'Life on Mars' ain't just a song / Oh, the live stream's almost on." This is the kind of artistry that is also activism. Del Rey has much to add to the social discourse and expresses her perspective without shame, and in spite of those who actively shame her. "The poetry inside of me is warm like a gun," she muses in "Bartender," and indeed, guns make appearances in several of her music videos, from pistols to assault rifles. The American culture described by Del Rey is evocative of bleached-out California summers, coke bottles and cocaine, beaches and blacktops, Coney Island at 2am, and a grieving nostalgia for the America of Hallmark, the Beach Boys, and, of course, Norman (fucking) Rockwell. But I think it's a misrepresentation to say that she is just coming into her maturity as a poet. The richness and depth of her lyrics have been there since the beginning; only her perspective has changed as she moves through the world.

Is Lana Del Rey still Lizzy Grant? In an appropriately Lynchian dichotomy, she exists as both, forever caught in that liminal space between the woman and the artist, the artist and the muse, the muse and the melody.

Despite the complex themes and literary references that color her songs, Del Rey (born Elizabeth Grant) has camouflaged her artistry in the sort of overtly sexual femininity that is still often dismissed and criticized. Ann Powers of NPR drew the ire of Del Rey on Twitter when she called out this persona and criticized its efficacy in NFR! " Never had a persona," Del Rey quipped. "Never needed one. Never will." This seemingly obvious contradiction raises a lot of questions about what constitutes a persona, particularly in the days of social media and Instagram, in which we're all, at least to some extent, forced to build our personal brand. Where do we draw the line between real and artificial? Is Lana Del Rey still Lizzy Grant? In an appropriately Lynchian dichotomy, she exists as both, forever caught in that liminal space between the woman and the artist, the artist and the muse, the muse and the melody. She's the pop star and the poet and, still and always, just herself. And it would appear that she's getting tired of the speculation.

I was reading Slim Aarons and I got to thinking that I thought
Maybe I'd get less stressed if I was tested less like
All of these debutantes
Smiling for miles in pink dresses and high heels on white yachts
But . . . I'm not that.

Del Rey's art defies strict definition and cataloging. Her songs are Persephonic and ephemeral and so is she. She is expressing herself honestly, and if she contradicts herself, very well then, she contradicts herself. She is large, and she contains multitudes.

In February, she will release a spoken-word album, and there will almost certainly be a new wave of criticism and speculation about the nature and credibility of her work. Regardless of its reception, it is a profoundly unique and artistic expression that shows Lana Del Rey's commitment to follow her muse, wherever she might lead.
University of Oklahoma

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Pop Star Poet: The Lyrics of Lana Del Rey, by Elizabeth Rae Stevens

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
I was introduced to Lana Del Rey by way of Baz Luhrmann and F. Scott Fitzgerald. Her haunting line "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" soared over the upturned face of Daisy Buchanan as Jay Gatsby threw down silk shirts from a balcony in the bombastic 2013 film.

# data[].attributes.body
This video has the director of the film providing commentary on how the song is used in the film and how the song came into fruition

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Young and Beautiful (Baz Luhrmann Commentary)

# data[].attributes.body
The soundtrack artwork to "The Great Gatsby: Music from Baz Luhrmann's Film" where the song comes from. The soundtrack was released in early May of 2013

# data[].attributes.body
This webpage takes you to Lana Del Rey's Spotify page where you can see that "Young and Beautiful" is one of her most listened/streamed song that has garnered about 580 million streams

# data[].attributes.body
This webpage shows percentages of what the song covers and shows a list of songs that are similar by various artists.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Lana Del Rey - Mariners Apartment Complex

# data[].attributes.headline
Similar songs that have the same lyrical weight/content by Del Rey

# data[].attributes.subject
Similar songs that have the same lyrical weight/content by Del Rey

# data[].attributes.body
At 3:40-5:04 is where they discuss specifically about this song. However, the whole video goes over her Del Rey's well known hits.

# data[].attributes.body
Reviews on the Music Video

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Lana Del Rey's new video for "Young & Beautiful," taken from The Great Gatsby soundtrack (the film hits theaters today), shows the singer in her typical melancholic fashion - only this time, she's accompanied by an orchestra reminiscent of the 1940 classic Fantasia. In "Young & Beautiful," Del Rey embodies her "gangsta Nancy Sinatra" persona with perfectly coiffed hair and diamond hoop earrings (plus teardrops to match) as she serves up some seriously brooding glances at the camera. Known for her vintage filters (which can either be overdone or brilliant - depending how you look at it), Del Rey uses it to her advantage to highlight the clip's art deco inspiration.

See if the critics liked the singer's throwback vibe after the jump. :: Our friends at said the clip was just average, saying: "The visuals for 'Young and Beautiful,' Del Rey's contribution to The Great Gatsby soundtrack, are elegantly conceived, but succeed only as much as the music does."

:: Pitchfork also agrees: "It's a comparatively simple affair for LDR, who sings in the middle of a vast orchestra. Comparatively simple."

:: Complex sees nothing wrong with the visuals, calling them "phenomenal": "We've never been disappointed with any of Lana's videos - from "National Anthem" to the short film "Ride" - she tends to find the perfect visuals for her music."

:: The singer loves to play up the classic film era, and our friends at Stereogum approve: "Del Rey's video for the slow-swelling 'Young & Beautiful' is a gorgeously photographed thing, with LDR dressed up in striking Jazz Age iconography and a shadowy orchestra supplying the atmosphere. It doesn't exactly fit with the movie that it ties in with, but the whole thing is shot like an Italian horror movie from the '70s, and that's a good thing."

:: Direct Lyrics is tired of the Instagram-filter effect: "Bet everything would've looked even more epic in crystal-clear HD. But, whatever. Her 'gorgeousness' is ridiculous, though."

:: Refinery29 continued the "gorgeous" adjective trend and applauded the simplicity of the video: "...it lets you focus more on the lyrics and the lovely vocals."

:: Finally, The Kollection found the new direction refreshing: "The visual appears to be less of a Lana advertisement and more of a respectful vision of the track's meaning."
What did you think of Lana Del Rey's video? Let us know in the comments below, or by hitting us up on Facebook and Twitter!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Lana Del Rey's "Young & Beautiful" Video: Review Revue

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Lana Del Rey's new video for "Young & Beautiful," taken from The Great Gatsby soundtrack (the film hits theaters today), shows the singer in her typical melancholic fashion - only this time, she's accompanied by an orchestra reminiscent of the 1940 classic Fantasia.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Lana Del Rey's sweeping Great Gatsby gem "Young & Beautiful" has cast an immensely gorgeous, moody spell over us, and the song almost makes one forget the fact that other heavyweights like Jay-Z, Beyonce and Florence + The Machine are present on the film's soundtrack, as well. (Get to know the words to the song inside and out via our friends at DirectLyrics.com.)

Would F. Scott Fitzgerald himself approve of Lana's mesmerizing number? That's something we'll never know. But other, modern-day writers of the online variety sure had some upbeat things to type out regarding "Young & Beautiful." Head below for our roundup of the Internet's thoughts on LDR's latest song.

:: Stereogum has been swayed: "It's about love and aging and insecurity and her own self-diagnosed luminous beauty, and I like it, even if she actually does sing the words 'makes me wanna party.' It's prettily luxuriant, and it has strings for days."

:: MTV Hive quips, "...the titular line is pure Del Rey dramatics, packing a hefty self-doubt punch as she croons 'Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I've got nothing but my aching soul?' Of course we will, Lana. Of course we will."

:: Hypetrak is also enamored: "Letting her natural vocals do all of the work, Rey sings over the stripped-down instrumental, providing listeners with a beautiful, dark melody."

:: Stupid Dope raves, "'Young & Beautiful' is a beautiful, big, smooth track that finds Lana placing her unique sounds upon a stripped down, yet emotional backdrop. This shit is too dope..."

:: Under The Gun Review is equally up on the lush downer track: "Del Rey finds a lonesome sense of soul in her lyrics, and the delivery throughout 'Young And Beautiful' makes you fall in love with her while simultaneously wanting to coddle her and explain that the world is not as terrible a place as it may seem."

:: Add Missinfo.tv to those praising the song: "Meshing perfectly with the movie's eclectic score, Lana delivers a song filled with soft, timid, and cinematic feeling."

:: Finally, We Are Pop Slags sums it up with this: "Her cool delivery on 'Young & Beautiful' works wonders with the big drums and orchestral strings, which bring the song to a slow climax."

What are your own thoughts on Lana's Great Gatsby soundtrack offering "Young & Beautiful"? Let us know below, or by hitting us up on Facebook and Twitter!

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Lana Del Rey's "Young & Beautiful" From 'The Great Gatsby' Soundtrack: Review Revue

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Lana Del Rey's sweeping Great Gatsby gem "Young & Beautiful" has cast an immensely gorgeous, moody spell over us, and the song almost makes one forget the fact that other heavyweights like Jay-Z , Beyonce and Florence + The Machine are present on the film's soundtrack, as well.

# data[].attributes.body
The audio version of the song

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Lana Del Rey - Young and Beautiful (from "The Great Gatsby" Soundtrack)

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
Album Review

Lana Del Rey is out to make a big splash. And so she has.

From her evocative stage name ("I wanted a name I could shape the music towards," the woman born Elizabeth Woolridge Grant told Vogue UK in 2011), to her affected, breathy vocals (she name-drops David Bowie, Prince, Frank Sinatra, Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen as influences), to her dramatic backstory (she began treatment for alcohol addiction at the tender age of 14), to her often pouty facial expressions (much discussion has revolved around whether her lips are natural or surgically enhanced), to her disastrous January 2012 performance on Saturday Night Live (she could barely sing during her set), to provocative lyrics and videos mingling harsh profanity with bloody violence and bizarre sexual imagery, every element of Del Rey's dramatic career so far has been dissected ... and criticized.

Is she for real? Or is her entire career some kind of winking, Warhol-esque bit of performance art? These are questions Del Rey herself would likely answer, "Yes." Indeed, Lana's lightning-rod approach to music resembles a script for some tragic indie movie about a struggling, talented and misunderstood singer striving to navigate the perils of fame. So much so, in fact, that she's gone so far as to label her cinematic style "Hollywood sadcore."

No surprise, then, that when movie director Baz Luhrmann was looking for emotionally minded artists for The Great Gatsby soundtrack, Del Rey more than made the cut: "Young and Beautiful" became the mournful musical centerpiece, wherein swelling orchestral strings provide a lush, melancholy backdrop for Del Rey's haunting style. It's a combination that sounds more than a little like a James Bond theme song from yesteryear.

Paralleling The Great Gatsby' s juxtaposition of opulence and existential emptiness, Del Rey contrasts a world of material plenty with a heart of aching insecurity. "I've seen the world," she begins. "Done it all/Had my cake now/Diamonds, brilliant/ ... Hot summer nights, mid-July/When you and I were forever wild."

But how does a decadent, indulgent tendency to live only in the moment translate into a foundation for lifelong love? Del Rey isn't so sure: "Will you still love me/When I'm no longer young and beautiful?/Will you still love me/When I got nothing but my aching soul?"

She answers those plaintive questions affirmatively, insisting, "I know you will, I know you will/I know that you will." But one gets the sense that her repetition of that phrase is actually an attempt to convince herself of its truth rather than a statement of confident belief in her man. No wonder she feels compelled to ask one more time at the end of the chorus, "Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"

The ultimate answer seems very much in doubt. And those disquieting doubts are reinforced further in a video featuring Del Rey wandering through an extravagant mansion, singing sadly and ... alone.

In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter focused on the film's soundtrack, The Great Gatsby' s executive music supervisor Anton Monsted described the song's thematic resonance with the film:

"There is certainly a connection between Lana and the character of Daisy. As a musical motif, it's repeated and developed throughout the film much like it would be in an opera. The lyrical development of the song helped to ground it in the world of the film. Lana chose a very clever way of wrapping universal pop lyrics around universal themes, but somehow her lyrics fall in beautifully with the themes of the film. Musically, I think it's an unusual song, because on the one hand, it has romance and tells a love story, but at the same time, it's filled with real yearning and melancholy, which I think is at the heart of the story, whether you're looking at it from Gatsby's or Daisy's point of view. There's a real sadness in the story, and that's reflected beautifully in this song."

That makes Lana Del Rey's biggest hit thus far a memorable and even instructive one-if not exactly a happy or inspiring one-filled as it is with yearning hope yoked to the disturbing doubt that the lifelong love a woman desperately longs for may not, in fact, last.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Lana Del Rey is out to make a big splash. And so she has.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
I started off writing a very negative review of this new Lana Del Rey single from The Great Gatsby soundtrack. I wrote about the lyrics being sub par and Lana practically slurring half of them with her peculiar pronunciation. But then a funny thing happened. After listening to the song nearly 10 times, I found myself liking it. I tried to focus on the review I was writing, but with each word I wrote I felt like I was becoming a bigger and bigger liar. So, I deleted that review and I'm serving you this instead.

Written by Lana and hit-maker Rick Nowels, it starts off with ominous bells and eerie strings, giving off a bit of a James Bond theme song vibe. In fact, it continues to give off that vibe when Lana begins singing. "I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now, diamonds, brilliant, and Bel-Air now," she croons, actually having the gall to rhyme "now" with "now." But what initially put me off was that I felt like she was bragging about these things. Even if she's singing from the perspective of a character in the movie, which is based on one of my least favorite books of all-time, it just struck me as someone bragging about their extravagant lifestyle. But, eventually, I was able to quote unquote hear the lyrics in the way they're obviously intended; this is the story of someone looking back on her life, wondering if she'll have anything left when she's "no longer young and beautiful." "Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul," she sings, essentially pleading, while massive beats that call to mind Craig Armstrong strike like thunder. Then she answers her own question: "I know you will, I know you will." I think that put me off at first, too. It just seemed conceited. Don't sing this song about fearing you'll no longer be loved when you get old if you already know that you will be. Answering her own question seemed to render the rest of the lyrics pointless. But, again, it grew on me. I think it just finally occurred to me that she might not be so sure that that's her answer, that she might just be telling herself that because it's what she wants to believe. Looking at the song from that perspective, seeing it as someone lying to herself, gave it added depth, something the song sorely needed. Not musically - the production is gorgeous if not immaculate - I'm talking specifically about Lana's lyrics and her fairly deadpan delivery. It's hard not to cringe when she sings lines like, "Oh that grace, oh that body, oh that face makes me wanna party." I mean, c'mon, go to any bar on any night of the week and you'll hear guys using smarter pick up lines than that. Most of these lyrics sound like they could have been written by a 12 year old. But that question, "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful," lingered in my head more and more after each listen. Combined with the dark, creepy music, it's ultimately haunting. And it's the haunting factor that makes up for the rest of the lyrics and how uninspired she sounds singing them. Not to mention the fact that she doesn't even attempt any high notes here; we all know she isn't Streisand, but a little effort goes a long way and one gets the impression that she phoned this in. But, yes, I like it. I do. Logically, I know I shouldn't. It's a mess, really. But it's consumed me to the point that I now enjoy hearing it loop inside of my head. Maybe you'll be able to resist it, and you probably should, but if you give it a few listens then I suspect it'll overcome you.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
SINGLE REVIEW: LANA DEL REY: "YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL"

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
I started off writing a very negative review of this new Lana Del Rey single from The Great Gatsby soundtrack. I wrote about the lyrics being sub par and Lana practically slurring half of them with her peculiar pronunciation. But then a funny thing happened.

# data[].attributes.body
Lana Del Rey, pictured in 2013, is the artist who wrote the Grammy-nominated song "Young and Beautiful".

# data[].attributes.body
This article talks about the song lyrics but discusses the figurative language that is used in the song.

# data[].attributes.body
This website discusses the background and meaning of the song, as well as mentions where this song is played in the film.

# data[].attributes.body
This article discusses the song lyrics in depth of how Del Rey is reflecting about her and lovers relationship and questioning if they will last.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Song Lyrics Analysis: "Young and Beautiful" by Lana Del Rey

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Young and Beautiful Lana Del Ray I've seen the world Done it all, had my cake now Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel-Air now Hot summer nights mid-July When you and I were forever wild The crazy days, the city lights The way you'd play with me like a child Will you still love me when I'm...

# data[].attributes.body
Lyrics to "Young and Beautiful"

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
From the soundtrack for the 2013 film version of The Great Gatsby. The song was also featured in the second trailer released for the film, and used throughout the film as a motif of Gatsby and Daisy's relationship.

According to Del Rey:

It was an honor to work with Baz Lurhmann on his amazing adaptation of one of the most extraordinary books ever written. The movie is highly glamorous and exciting; Rick Nowels and I were thrilled to write the song for the film.

"Young and Beautiful" was penned by Lana and the film's director, co-writer, and co-producer Baz Luhrmann, for the soundtrack. Del Rey wrote an earlier version of the song for her Paradise EP, but re-worked it with Luhrmann after he heard it and decided it'd work great with the movie. The song served as the film's kickoff single, and an "orchestral single" featuring an orchestra was also released. Its motif, as well as samples of it, can be heard throughout the film and its soundtrack.

A jazz version of the song, created by the Bryan Ferry Orchestra, can be heard in the background of the scene that introduces Daisy.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
Young and Beautiful Lyrics: I've seen the world, done it all / Had my cake now / Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now / Hot summer nights, mid-July / When you and I were forever wild / The crazy days, city

# data[].attributes.body
The song along with the soundtrack comes from the movie "The Great Gatsby", which was released as well in the same year.

# data[].attributes.body
The visual for the single that has amassed over 454 million views since it has been released.

# data[].attributes.body
The single artwork for Lana Del Rey's "Young and Beautiful" single released in April of 2013.