Anyone as obsessed with California as Lana Del Rey is — obsessed with its beauty and its glamour and with the potential for danger that’s always underbellied the swollen promise of this place — was probably destined for a Laurel Canyon phase, and that’s just where we find the singer on her stirring and emotionally risky new album, “Norman F— Rockwell!”

She might be the decade’s least likely pop star: a believer in slooow tempos who concentrates on albums at a moment when bite-size singles predominate. But where others can struggle to outlive a viral smash, she offers fans entrée into a fully realized world. Which means she’s free to evolve at her own idiosyncratic pace.