Honestly, trying to map out all of Lana Del Rey songs is kind of like trying to count stars while standing on a moving boat. You think you’ve got a handle on the "Born to Die" era, and then suddenly a leaked demo from 2009 pops up on TikTok and completely rewrites the lore. It’s a lot. As of early 2026, with the release of her tenth studio album Stove, her official catalog is massive, but the "unofficial" stuff is where the real obsession lies.
Most people know the hits. They know the cinematic sweep of "Summertime Sadness" or the haunting grit of "A&W." But if you’re only listening to what’s on Spotify, you’re basically only seeing the top of the iceberg.
There’s a reason her fanbase spends hours digging through SoundCloud archives for "Serial Killer" or "Driving in Cars with Boys." These aren’t just leftovers; they’re the foundation of the entire "Lizzy Grant" mythology.
The official timeline from Lizzy to Stove
The transition from Elizabeth Grant to Lana Del Rey wasn't just a name change; it was a total sonic overhaul. Before the world met the "Gangster Nancy Sinatra," there was the Lana Del Ray A.K.A. Lizzy Grant album in 2010. It was briefly available, then vanished, leaving behind gems like "Pawn Shop Blues" and "Kill Kill."
Then 2012 happened. "Video Games" dropped, and suddenly everyone was obsessed with this "vintage" sound.
✨ Don't miss: Temuera Morrison as Boba Fett: Why Fans Are Still Divided Over the Daimyo of Tatooine
Born to Die and the Paradise edition basically defined the 2010s aesthetic. Tracks like "National Anthem" and "Ride" weren't just songs; they were short films. But Lana didn't stay in that lane for long. She pivoted hard into the psychedelic, guitar-heavy world of Ultraviolence in 2014. If Born to Die was a glossy Hollywood dream, Ultraviolence was the hangover in a dive bar.
Her journey through Honeymoon, Lust for Life, and the critically worshipped Norman Fucking Rockwell! showed her moving away from the "persona" and toward something much more raw. By the time she hit Blue Banisters and Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd, the production stripped back. The lyrics got wordy, weird, and incredibly personal. Now, in 2026, Stove brings a country-inspired grit that feels like a full-circle moment back to her early Americana roots, especially with lead singles like "Henry, Come On."
Why the unreleased songs are a lifestyle
You can’t talk about all of Lana Del Rey songs without mentioning the "unreleased" phenomenon. There are literally hundreds of them.
Why do they matter? Because they reveal the trial and error of an artist finding her voice. Some of these tracks, like "Say Yes to Heaven," were so popular as leaks that she eventually gave in and officially released them years later.
🔗 Read more: Why Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Actors Still Define the Modern Spy Thriller
- The Pop Demos: Songs like "Jealous Girl" and "Queen of Disaster" are bubblegum pop with a dark edge. They’re catchy, upbeat, and totally different from her moody album tracks.
- The Soundtrack Lore: Lana has a weird knack for making songs that sound better in movies than on the radio. "Young and Beautiful" for The Great Gatsby is the obvious one, but don't sleep on "Big Eyes" or her haunting "Once Upon a Dream" cover.
- The Repurposed Tracks: Some songs lived three lives before hitting an album. "Yosemite" was supposed to be on Lust for Life but didn't make it until Chemtrails over the Country Club years later.
The recurring themes most people miss
Lana’s songwriting is built on specific symbols. If you listen to enough of her tracks, you’ll start seeing the patterns. It’s never just about a guy or a breakup; it’s about a specific kind of American nostalgia that probably never actually existed.
She uses "Blue" as more than just a color. It’s a state of being in "Blue Jeans," "Blue Banisters," and "Blueberry Eyes." Then there’s the obsession with the road—motorcycles, fast cars, and the "open road" as a metaphor for freedom or running away from yourself.
There's also a heavy religious undercurrent that has intensified lately. In her earlier work, the "Gods" were men or fame. Now, in songs like "The Grants" or tracks from Stove, there’s a much more literal, soulful exploration of faith and family. It’s a subtle shift, but it changes how you hear her older stuff.
Ranking the "essentials" (The non-obvious list)
If someone asks you for a starter pack of Lana Del Rey songs, don't just give them the Top 40 hits. You’ve gotta give them the texture.
💡 You might also like: The Entire History of You: What Most People Get Wrong About the Grain
- "Venice Bitch": It’s nearly ten minutes long and mostly an instrumental psych-rock jam. It shouldn't work, but it's arguably her masterpiece.
- "Off to the Races": This is Lana at her most theatrical. The vocal shifts are insane.
- "Terrence Loves You": She’s called this one of her favorites, and the David Bowie reference in the bridge is heartbreaking.
- "A&W": A sprawling, two-part epic that goes from a folk ballad to a heavy trap beat. It’s the best summary of her entire career in one song.
- "Blueberry Eyes" (from Stove): The 2026 standout that proves she can still surprise us with a country-noir twist.
How to actually navigate her discography
If you're trying to keep track of every single thing she’s ever recorded, it’s best to categorize them by their "era" vibes rather than just release dates.
- The Cinematic Era: Born to Die, Paradise, Great Gatsby era.
- The Rock/Grunge Era: Ultraviolence and its various guitar-heavy unreleased demos.
- The Dream-Pop Era: Honeymoon—lots of strings, slow tempos, and Italian cinematic influences.
- The Folk/Americana Era: Chemtrails, Blue Banisters, and Ocean Blvd.
Lana's music isn't meant to be consumed as a "greatest hits" shuffle. It's more like a long, messy novel where characters from 2010 reappear in 2024. The "unreleased" tracks are just the deleted scenes that help the plot make sense.
To stay current with the ever-evolving list of all of Lana Del Rey songs, you should follow her "honeymoon" Instagram account (if it’s currently active) and keep an eye on official vinyl b-sides, which is where she often hides her most experimental work. If you’re just starting, listen to Norman Fucking Rockwell! from start to finish. It’s widely considered the bridge between her "persona" years and her "poet" years, and it's the best entry point for understanding why she’s stayed relevant for over a decade.
Your next move: Dig into the Stove tracklist if you haven't yet—it's the most significant departure she's made since Ultraviolence.