So, Lana Del Ray’s new album has just dropped. That way you bristled just now in reaction to the word “dropped”, dear reader, gives me hope that you are no stranger to the sensation of rising bile that is so often engendered in pernickety souls by the most insignificant offence to good taste, however particular said infraction might be to oneself. Anyway*, here’s the thing: Lana’s album is called Chemtrails Over The Country Club and features a song called Chemtrails Over The Country Club within which the phrase Chemtrails Over The Country Club is repeated in its entirety in the chorus many times. This – yes, “just” this – annoys and has annoyed the hell out of me and drains my enjoyment from so many things I really should be able to enjoy more. I have lived my pop life getting excited by new songs and anticipating accompanying LPs but sometimes the announcement of an album title, by itself, is enough to prick my bubble of excitement. Oh, I know most album titles are a crock, with serial offenders such as Sting graduating from pretentious gibberish (Regatta De Blanc) to “I am considerably better read than yew” pretentiousness (Ghost In » Continue Reading.