In 2011, in the cultural cosmic dust cloud of Los Angeles, a hot core was growing into a star—Lana Del Rey. Collapsing the high glamour of sixties L.A. with the city’s seedier seductions, Del Rey fueled up on the energy of angels and catapulted herself into planetary popularity. Her sultry voice transformed mundane life—”You open up a beer, and say get over here, and play your video game”—into sexy fantasy, while dramatic swells of violins gave her veneer of pop an eery indie quality. Her latest album, Norman Fucking Rockwell!, sends the self-styled “gangster Nancy Sinatra” on tour. —C.J.F.