Chemtrails Over the Country Club feels more like a delicate sigh than a full statement. The mood is dreamy and hushed throughout, with Lana leaning heavily into her ethereal Americana aesthetic—but the songs mostly blur together in a mist of whispered vocals, gauzy piano, and barely-there melodies. There are glimmers of beauty in tracks like White Dress and Tulsa Jesus Freak, but too often the album drifts without really landing anywhere. It’s not that it’s poorly made—if anything, it’s too carefully crafted, to the point of being emotionally distant. The lack of variation in tone or tempo makes it feel like one long, melancholy lullaby, and the poetic imagery sometimes crosses the line into self-parody. There’s atmosphere in abundance, but not much else to hold on to.