Sometimes feeling bad feels good. Lana Del Rey's second studio album, Ultraviolence, luxuriates in sadness, alchemizing the depths of despair into beautiful songs. With Ultraviolence, Lana is determined to prove that she is a legitimate musician rather than a mere pop star, and that as a songwriter she has more in common with Dr. John than Dr. Luke. Anyone who has listened to the scores of unreleased songs and demos Lana has recorded knows that she indisputably does have songwriting chops. The album's 14 tracks (11, plus three bonus songs for the deluxe edition) are recorded in lush lo-fi with producer Dan Auerbach from the Black Keys. It feels like it was recorded in Megan Draper's Laurel Canyon love shack. Ultraviolence takes the focus off production in favor of highlighting her vocal stylings, hitting a couple of ethereal high notes and employing the interesting phrasing for which she is known. She wants credibility in the rock world, which she realizes a lot of critics take more seriously than the pop world.