Listen, I know I’ve given Lana Del Rey a hard time. I know. You don’t need to tell me. Every day I Google myself and discover, anew, voices calling me out on my cleverness (or supposed cleverness) and pedantry (regarding my opinions about Lana Del Rey [among others], which have been, if you permit me one moment to argue on my behalf, misunderstood, as I was never writing about her music at all, but about you, the listener, and me, the listener, and the images we’re sold, and the woman behind the image, and how isolating it can be for all of us, being mere images, bereft, etc.). But now I’m sitting here, alone, at night, watching Lana Del Rey sing Leonard Cohen’s “Chelsea Hotel No. 2,” and it doesn’t seem important to make a point (be it clever or pedantic). I’ve made enough points. Suffice to say, it’s a great song, and she covers it well. Don’t believe me? Watch for yourself.