Lily Allen: West End Girl

I haven’t listened to Lily Allen for a while. The last time I wrote a review of her sophomore album, It’s Not Me, It’s You, was in 2009. When I spotted her latest release, West End Girl, on Spotify, I knew I had to listen right away. I was not disappointed.

On the opening title track, she sets up the narrative over the bossa-nova rhythm. She briefly describes their relationship when she and her husband settled in New York. Then she moved back to London for a lead role. While they were apart, her husband wanted an open relationship because he needed pussy. She agreed because she wanted him to be happy.

Over the heavy electronic production, she started to “Ruminating.” With the assistance of Auto-Tune she confessed, “And I can’t shake the image of her naked / On top of you and I’m dissociated.” She even got jealous, “And I’m not hateful but you make me hate her / She gets to sleep next to my medicator.”

Over strumming guitar and pounding bass in “Sleepwalking,” she revealed her marriage issue: “‘Why aren’t we fucking baby?’ Yeah, that’s what you said / But you let me think it was me in my head / And nothing to do with them girls in your bed.”

On “Relapse,” she declared that her marriage was over: “The foundation is shattered, you’ve made such a fucking mess / I tried to be your modern wife, but the child in me protests.” Just hearing her sing softly, “Pussy Palace,” gets a kick out of me. What things do they have at the “Pussy Palace?” Of course, she knows you wonder; therefore, she discloses, “Duane Reade bag with the handles tied / Sex toys, butt plugs, lube inside / Hundreds of Trojans, you’re so fucking broken / How’d I get caught up in your double life?”

With “Nonmonogamummy,” a collaboration with Specialist Moss, she tried to be open as well: “And now I’m looking at my Tinder, well, maybe I’m more of a Hinger / He wants to take me out to dinner, hope he looks better than his picture.”

The album closes out with “Fruityloop” and she leaves it as is: “It is what it is, you’re a mess, I’m a bitch / Wish I could fix all your shit, but all your shit’s yours to fix.” Based on her divorce, Allen crafted a conceptual album that reads like an open book from start to finish. It’s an honest-yet-ruthless work of art.