One local and one transplant discuss the artist’s connection to Los Angeles, the city as a lover, and their own connection to this baroque-pop narrative. For irony’s sake, they meet outside of Los Angeles. In Pasadena. 

By Chelsey Crabbe and Chantal Santoyo, An Interview

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 2024, 10 PM — Los Angeles

CHANTAL SANTOYO: Mystyx Coffee Ritual, 346 N Ford Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90022. Maybe this could work? I have to check if it’s open, though. 

CHELSEY CRABBE: Someone understood the assignment. Totally joking about the witchy requirement. Wherever you like! Time?

SANTOYO: JK let’s go to Stumptown in Pasadena. I’ve been wanting to go for the Coraline collab. 

CRABBE: Done. [inserts Watch emoji]

SANTOYO: Mhmhmh timeeee -- 10am?? Too early??

CRABBE: No, that’s perfect -- we’re businesswomen. We have business to attend to…

Indeed, there was business to discuss, that of Lana Del Rey, but first -- context. 

Saturday morning, Chantal emailed me the link to a shared document entitled, “Lana Del Mama.” She truly understands the assignment, sending over dozens of examples across all of Lana Del Rey’s work -- poetry, songs, visual imagery -- where the chanteuse refers to this dream of California. A dream we all know the shape of, in one way or another. The dream that, at one point or another, you might have dreamt. I quickly skimmed through the many examples on the way to our meeting, appreciating the level of detailed analysis attached to each article of metaphoric evidence. 

I am reminded that, across much of her career, Lana Del Rey has told stories of love and heartbreak against the backdrop of a California sky. Ones strewn against Sunset Boulevard, syrupy siren songs of dual glamour and decay, as Chantal would go on to say.

The week before, Chantal had mentioned that Lana Del Rey was the perfect combination of romance, nostalgia, and melancholy. I would go on to lovingly refer to this phenomenon as… ro-nostalgi-coly. Immediately, I thought all those feelings reminded me of Los Angeles, too. Then, I remembered Ms. Lana was indeed in her own love affair with this city of angels. It is a marriage of equals, from what I remember. Though, my head, the one up in the clouds -- reaching for some connection amidst all these puzzle pieces.

So, I would join forces with my in-house Lana-loving Angelena and test this theory. Use the art like bumper rails in a bowling alley, guiding our conversation. Pushing our inquiries ever-inward, as a result -- delving into our own complex relationships with a city we both call home. I believe that’s called a strike, in bowling. 

Expertise? Check. 

Evidence? Check.

Coffee? Check. 

Bowling balls? Luckily, not.

Questions? Check. 

Answers? TBD.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2024, 10AM — PASADENA

CHELSEY CRABBE: Our timing is perfect. Ms. Lana Del Rey is married… as of… right now! 

CHANTAL SANTOYO: It was meant to be. 

CRABBE: I have some guiding questions, but I want this to be organic. You being from here and me, moving here from Boston, a year ago now. 

SANTOYO: Well, okay. Let’s dive right in. People don’t love like that in L.A. -- the way Lana is a lover girl, unabashedly. People think she’s overrated, but just because she’s popular, doesn’t mean she’s mainstream. She embodies so much of L.A., but LA people don’t want to be the typical L.A. girl, so they don’t mention their Lana love. I guess I wonder how she can love a place that doesn’t love her back? 

CRABBE: Well, not inside of an equal relationship where there’s mutual respect. I mean, it makes sense. A lot of people here are trying to subvert and be different. We’re hungry, wanting to stand out. Though, we’re all playing the same part, trying to fit in here.  

SANTOYO: I just like how she’s gotten those love reps in -- she’s seen some things when it comes to love, so I trust her truth when she writes these lyrics. 

CRABBE: Especially, when she’s using all of these metaphors and figures of speech to evoke these sensational -- and sensual -- depictions of love. I just think it’s interesting how she connects that entire ethos to this amorphous concept of Los Angeles. You talk about glamour and decay, the duality of those two words, and I really love that. Where are the places here where you feel hope and despair simultaneously? I mean, after a year in LA, I can confidently say that people work really hard here. Others, not so much. 

SANTOYO: Well, it’s strange coming from a place where people work really hard. My parents are immigrants, and so much of “the dream” was wrapped up in work. I watched my parents hustle for tangible opportunities, to make ends meet -- not for these “head up in the clouds” dreams. Sometimes, it left me asking myself… hustling for what? For my parents, Los Angeles was never a dream place. It was a place to drive to from Pomona for work. That reality is never part of the conversation when we talk about this place. 

CRABBE: So, it seems like -- me in Massachusetts, you just down the road from Hollywood -- our distances from the dream were and are the same. It’s not a matter of physical distance in this case. A local can feel just as far from the dream as someone across the country. 

SANTOYO: Exactly. This city is not going to give you anything, no matter who you are -- nepo babies aside. 

CRABBE: It’s funny -- Los Angeles is BEGGING to be taken seriously, with all these apocalyptic weather events and harsh environments. Behind the Hollywood Sign are crumbling ruins and wildfires. 

SANTOYO: Reality very much exists here, and Lana mixes the obvious glamour with the silent devastation that runs rampant in these streets. She’s reminded me, at least, that living here is truly like being in a romantic relationship with this city. 

CRABBE: I mean, from what I’ve observed, this new lover of mine has certainly tested me this year. Before moving, I completely romanticized this place, knowing it would still be difficult living here. Now that I’m here, I face these harsh realities, head-on, still holding tightly to a romantic idea of this place. That excites me -- and keeps me here. What do you do though, when this place breaks your heart?

SANTOYO: Well, that happened to me, and I was left thinking…WTF? I moved to Hollywood. Then, right afterward, COVID happened.

CRABBE: The dream, dead. 

SANTOYO: Exactly. At the time, I thought, “If I don’t do it now, I never will.” It was so foreign to my parents, moving to dirty Hollywood. 

CRABBE: Tell me about it -- I live here now. Quite literally behind the Hollywood Hotel. And this place that’s supposed to make all your dreams come true costs money. Playing the field here costs money, seeing what you like, exploring the inner workings of your dreams. 

SANTOYO: And nobody talks about it! That’s what breaks my heart. All these hidden parts of making it in LA. Everyone wants to play this part, and for what?

CRABBE: Really, how much money is social capital really worth? I mean, you find your place here once you identify your values. Are you okay living in a shoebox underneath the Hollywood Sign, like set dressing for other people’s dreams? Or do you want some big, sprawling, and accepting yard to actually create -- create a life? 

SANTOYO: It’s this constant back and forth.

CRABBE: Is Los Angeles a bad lover? She’s enticing, but at the same time, she’s so hot and cold. This place can give you whiplash. It’s addicting. Each day is like pulling the lever on a slot machine or scrolling through Instagram. 

SANTOYO: And by doing this, we’re feeding the mechanism that is L.A. I’ve lived so many lives here, so many different versions of my life. To me, amidst all the heartbreak, it’s worth the chapter in the book. Even with this place playing the tumultuous lover, it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. 

CRABBE: Don’t I KNOW it. At the end of my life, I want my heart to feel like some raggedy doll, not some pristine, untouched collector’s item in a box on a shelf. I wonder if the truth of this place detracts from its power of smoke and mirrors?

SANTOYO: I think the truth is -- there’s no safety net here. I have had moments of despair here, and I have argued with this place. Yet, I have gratitude for these moments, too. 

CRABBE: Sweat equity. There’s honor in hard work. The work — is tangible. 

SANTOYO: You get it. Lana is trying to say that the work is worth it, here in Los Angeles. And in love, too. There are a lot of high highs and a lot of low lows. 

CRABBE: So, can you feel content here? Reach equilibrium? Because -- at least now -- existing in the middle seems boring. 

SANTOYO: You take a leap of faith when you try and make it here, and that is exciting… but also deeply heartbreaking. I catastrophize things a lot, so wrapping up these really real things inside of a story or a ballad, feels like sort of a cushion. 

CRABBE: Cushioned inside the dream. 

SANTOYO: It sounds woo-woo, but being grateful for all of these moments here is how you make it. Lana’s music romanticizes some really dark things. She made it into art, and we, as listeners, get to interact with these dreams and metaphors. Because the truth is, it really is better to have loved and lost. 

CRABBE: It just sounds better when it’s wrapped up in a dream that we can romanticize, or inside nostalgia, or tied up in melancholy.

SANTOYO: The truth feels better with some ro-nostalgi-coly.

CRABBE: Trademarking it now. Great place to stop. Well Chantal, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. 

SANTOYO: Yes, yes it is. Thank you, Lana. 

header image + social image from this dope-as-hell music video:

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