Lily Allen - Alright, Still (Regal)
3/5
By: Thomas Hannan
PURCHASE FROM ROCKFEEDBACK DIGITAL DOWNLOADS
Lily Allen's got it made. She doesn't at all need the independent music press banging on about how great she is to succeed. Reportedly she hates us all anyway, which, of course, doesn't stop a fair proportion of befringed journalists raving about her. They love being the subject of your vitriol, Lily. It makes them think they actually have someone to win over, when as a matter of fact most of the whole world thinks they're as much of an idiot as you do, but don't tell it to them often enough. Anyway, the tabloids love you darling! You need not to feed off any attention from the likes of us.
Nor would Ms Allen get any if 'Smile' weren't such a great pop tune. Musically, it is summer 2006, the finished article that the '05 premature summer of ska was the prototype for, the breezy tune that can make us forget for three minutes that we're all friggin' melting over here. And on the back of that, it was suggested that 'Alright, Still' might just be a really incredible album.
Which, partially, it is - on the aforementioned opening track, the charming calypso of the nimble assessment of life in the capital that is 'LDN', and the duo of tunes that end the record (the welcome maturity displayed in 'Friend of Mine' and charmingly brusque address to a baby brother's mild marijuana habit in 'Alfie' to close really raise smiles). They showcase what Allen does with her music best, the light reggae / ska / calypso concoction that underpins her matter of fact lyrical style here shines brightest. What's more the delivery of the lyrics in these moments actually manages to come across as witty, bright, cutting, and not at all coarse.
However, you'll notice, in other moments things aren't so clever. Where she can sound as if her finger's not only on the pulse of the youth of today but her hands around the neck of the old establishment, threatening to cut off their air supply if they don't listen up to her wry little observations, at other times she can just be crude. And when Lily's lyrics falter, the tunes oddly play equally poor hands. As such, whole tracks become unnecessary, uncomfortable, uncouth. 'Littlest Things' for example is addressed to one specific but, to us, anonymous ex - it's not for us and we shouldn't get to hear it, not if it's to be in this state. 'Not Big', too, berating a lad's prowess between the sheets, has little about it that deserves more than a momentary fixation of attention, unless you're the poor chap in question. Such mistakes crop up not uncommonly. And, by the way, as if it hasn't been made clear, men get a bum deal a lot of the time. Fair enough. We're idiots.
A summer classic, a few other corkers, and an album hanging off the ample rigidity they supply. Not infallible, just OK. Momentarily exciting, otherwise merely passable. It's not superb. Still, it's alright.
Your Feedback
Login to post your comment