The first track on each of singer-songwriter Lana Del Rey’s previous two albums has served as a microcosm of the album as a whole.

With 2012’s “Born to Die,” the title track served as the opener, and its subtle hip-hop background layered with deep crooning vocals from Del Rey set the tone for an album that was both nostalgic and contemporary, as well as brashly confident.

In late 2012 came the “Paradise” EP, which led with “Ride,” a melancholy, self-reflective ballad with an even more self-reflective music video. “Ride” was an indicator of change occurring within the singer’s musical style, an evolution from hip-hop to more jazz and blues-influenced tunes.

With Tuesday’s release of “Ultraviolence,” we get “Cruel World,” a complex opener given the tone of the previously released singles from the album like the fantastic “West Coast,” “Brooklyn Baby” and “Shades of Cool.” Those singles hinted at great things to come, each bringing a unique vision of the kind of lyrical and melodic experimentation that is Lana Del Rey at her best.

“Cruel World,” brings a more self aware Del Rey, with a melody and instrumentation reminiscent of “Paradise” and “Ultraviolence,” but lyrics that could have been patched together from “Born to Die.” That album achieved commercial success but took a huge critical backlash. According to the flood of interviews from publications like the New York Times and Fader Magazine, the very public negativity from almost every music critic was surprising and disheartening for the young singer.

“Carl Jung said that inevitably what other people think of you becomes a small facet of your psyche, whether you want it to or not,” Del Rey told the Times.

“Cruel World” contains many Lana-isms like “little red party dress” and “I am f—ing crazy,” but while Del Rey may have been confidently yet naively sending those lyrics into the world in 2012, now she seems to be smirking as she sings them, raising an eyebrow to critics. This opener, too, can be seen as an interpretation of the album as a whole.

“Ultraviolence” works as a revenge album, its throwbacks to ’60s and ’70s rock a perfect fit for her nostalgic style and a comeuppance to Del Rey’s haters, but it’s also remarkable for its uniqueness in the world of popular music. Whatever you thought of “Born to Die,” it was unlike anything that was commercially successful at the time.

In the two years since that release, popular music has seen an increase of musicians that would technically be categorized as “indie” or “alternative” pop – Ellie Goulding, Janelle Monae, Lorde. The music world is perhaps more ready for Del Rey than it was in 2012, and “Ultraviolence” is the perfect album Del Rey could release for another chance at critical acclaim.

The 11-song LP (15 songs on the deluxe version) is full of emotion and the kind of music that invites listeners to sway along, evoking the same feelings as ’40s and ’50s jazz in its honesty and sincerity. After “Cruel World” comes the series of singles, from the title track, a disturbing ode to violence from a lover, to “Brooklyn Baby” a playful, higher octave tune that has a restrained self-assuredness, though she laments the way people will inevitably see her music: “They judge me like a picture book, by the colors like they forgot to read.”

“Money Power Glory” comes as a welcome reprieve from the achingly slow ballads that take over the album. Here she is a little sarcastic, singing, “I’m gonna take them for all that they got.” This theme of twisting the motifs she is known for into a snide commentary for her critics makes for compelling songwriting.

Where “Paradise,” seemed to struggle to maintain a captivating pace, “Ultraviolence,” with the help of producer Dan Auerbach (The Black Keys), manages to remain attentive despite the slow tempo of almost every song on the album. This is a record that is defiantly against radio plays, though Del Rey’s success has never been built much on radio anyway. Freedom from trying to make palatable, radio-friendly singles has allowed Del Rey to become what she was trying to be all along: an artist from a different time.

In the end, the album artwork does all of the critical work for us. Gone is the wide-eyed girl against blue sky from “Born to Die.”

In her place is dark-haired, film noir Del Rey, staring us down.