By: Mal Holmes
Does anyone else remember that song from 2006 called “Smile”? Yeah, I only remembered it after I replayed it on Spotify. Well, for those whose memories are better than mine, you were probably very aware or very excited for Lily Allen’s new concept album West End Girl. Closing out October, the UK artist delivered a fierce yet vulnerable and brutally honest forty-four minute arrangement of a disillusioned marriage to none other than American actor, David Harbour (Stranger Things, Thunderbolts). Now, I’m not People’s Magazine, so I won’t be relaying all of their drama other than what Lily Allen herself was willing to share or allude to in her latest project. If you are so privy to the drama between the now divorced couple, click here.
Now, let’s focus on the music because this truly is an incredible album. In an era fronted by honest lyricism and bombastic storytelling (i.e. the Doechii’s and Sabrina Carpenter’s of the world), the female music sphere is at an all-time high as more and more women are writing and performing unapologetically. A “take-me-as-I-am-or-f***-off” attitude if you will.
Allen’s last album, No Shame, released in 2018, saw a much messier and identity-lost version of Allen. She needed time to find herself and a new sound that resonated with everything she had to say. Her fifth studio album, West End Girl, was a surprise drop as she announced it a mere week in advance, therefore, to not undergo scrutiny for its thematic content, which I think is a brilliant marketing move. Fans and critics have equally fallen for the poignant lyricism and expansive production that spirals from ballads to 2-step garage to even musical theater influences. Allen clearly made a valiant effort to showcase her range as an artist.
The opening track, “West End Girl” is a gutting yet charming, as is most of the album, entree way to the beginning downfall of her marriage – her moving back to London and starting an unwanted open relationship. For fans of Charli XCX or Lola Young, the messy, British-2-step garage production will be a delightful similarity. Especially with the use of a one-sided phone call, Young fans will notice the slight hurt and forced perspective in Allen’s choice to not include the other side of the call. Following this track is “Ruminating” and “Sleepwalking”. While sonically different, both continue the initial realization and anger of her situation. Allen blurs the lines between fact and fiction as she takes artistic liberty with the true narrative of her relationship with Harbour leaving listeners to feast on her immediate autopsy of a messy split as she contrived the album in only 16 days. In “Ruminating” she explicitly details how she’s coming to terms with finding out how Harbour developed feelings for another woman, yet wants reassurance that he loves his wife more. “Sleepwalking” continues this story arc by reflecting on how she really isn’t at fault for his inability to be faithful; Allen is simply replaying the events back in her head over and over uncertain of what is even real or what she even wants. She sings “I know you’ve made me your Madonna / I want to be your whore / Baby, it would be my honour” which highlights how, at this stage, she doesn’t understand why she wasn’t good enough for her ex-husband.
As the album progresses to “Tennis,” “Madeline,” “Relapse,” and “P*ssy Palace,” Allen creates a beautiful middle ground of mistrust, disillusionment, and concern. Between “Tennis” and “Madeline” she learns of another girl. The production changes from the 1950s-esq displayed on “Sleepwalking” and “Tennis” to more British-trap as she changes from fear of being jilted to seeking justice for his betrayal. She fights the urge to return to her own addictions given the amount of hurt she has undergone, but even goes as far to question if Harbour’s emotional cheating could even be an alarm for a much deeper issue of commitment as discussed in “P*ssy Palace.”
The back half of the album reveals Allen to be emancipated from Harbour. She slashes and burns with her pretense of nonmonogamy in “Nonmonogamummy.” (Why no one has ever said this before is beyond me.) There is a striking tonal and sonic change to express her sudden freedom, however, she still feels unqualified to be in the “Tinder” and “Hinge” dating world as a 40-year-old woman with kids as she notes in “Dallas Major.” She hates it. She hates being single. She hates what Harbour did. She hated an open marriage. She hates having to start over, as I’m sure anyone who has had a serious relationship for a quarter of a decade could attest to.
While critics are drawing parallels from this to Beyoncé’s Lemonade or Adele’s 30 as these are startlingly and heartbreaking albums centered on unfaithful partners and the pain and jadedness that arise from such anguish, Allen’s West End Girls leans further with full force on how she was wronged and how she plans on recovering from all the deceit. As more and more young music fans are praising the candid, straightforward outtakes of emotional dumping in today’s modern pop, Allen’s new project is sure to be a 2025 end of year favorite. Heartbreak and cheating is emotionally emptying enough, but adding in the fact that she is also a mother, supplements another excruciating layer of overcoming an unwanted maturity. She ultimately does leave listeners with a satisfying “this is where we are now” moment with the final track “Fruityloop.” No long-term answers of what will happen post divorce, but an emotional resolution that can satisfy her, and us, for now.
Listen on Spotify now:
Leave a Reply