There’s no need to give you a synopsis of the 1976 Robert Altman film to explain the greater context of Lana Del Rey’s “Henry, come on”. There were no stars aligned between national events and heated political discourse that impacted what the alternative pop star’s country-laced return are trying to say of the culture — she had already plotted these steps based on genre trend well before any of those events happened by teasing whatever-the-name-of-this-new-album-is-going-to-be-called well before any of that had happened. Instead, the LDR press machine waits in rest and picks a peak moment to slow waltz her back into the public eye — in this case, two weeks ahead of her Stagecoach headlining set with a song that feels like it was infused with the weight of modern American life even if she’s no soothsayer. What she is, however, is carefully-curated, as Del Rey’s foray into Southern melancholia and cowboy tears corrals in new company keeps — taking a much needed break from Jack Antonoff’s sterilized acoustics in favor of country-pop studio pro, Luke Laird, and the prestige indie-folk grandeur of Drew Erickson — who whisk her away from Henry like tumbleweed through the blue skies of God’s country. She has a way of assuming the life of her characters in a way that makes you want believe these scripted dramas tailored for the middle-class gaze are an escape from real American life, making it more Nashville (2012) than Nashville (1976).

Lana Del Rey’s “Henry, come on” single is available now on Interscope / Polydor Records.