Super Lily a storm in the port
Lily Allen is the tough-talking, celebrity-hating, MySpace blogging glamour girl of the year. Her raw sardonic lyricism and stark social commentary on post-teen London life continues to dazzle music lovers worldwide and has earned the 22-year-old a deservedly controversial place in the galaxy of tabloid fame.
Amid this recent flutter of paparazzi and gossip columns, Lily Allen’s music is often and regrettably overlooked in favour of the voyeuristic attention given to her notoriously brash and humorous net blog.
At the end of the day, however, Lily Allen’s lucid musical talent is the fundamental ingredient to her success and her brilliantly progressive 2006 debut, Alright, Still, is the reason she’s been selling out venues all over the country.
Metropolis in Fremantle was no exception on Tuesday night. It was packed to the rafters and abuzz from the word go, with fans and inquisitive sceptics alike happily crammed to catch a glimpse of the haughty starlet.
Lily Allen was over the road enjoying one of Gino’s pastas when Melbourne’s Macromantics kicked off the night, gracing punters with her brassy Aussie hip-hop, which was well received, given that nobody seemed to know who she was.
All eyes and hearts, however, lit up when the distinctive opening riff to LDN permeated through the speakers, and everybody’s favourite “mockney” emerged through a barrage of synths, drum machines and a three-piece horn section.
The night was destined to be a singalong affair, with Lily Allen leading the charge and displaying far more finesse than recent scathing US reviews would suggest. It was also going to be the kind of upfront and personalised affair only Lily Allen could provide.
Straight up, the crowd was drawn into the frank world of Lily the pop princess: “I’ve just arrived from Japan and I’m f…ing knackered,” she screamed. “Somebody get me a Jägermeister! … This next song is for all the models and actresses who try to prove how thin they are by dieting but who are really just on heroin!”
Everything’s Just Wonderful followed, ironic given that a fight had already developed between two boozed-up geezers in front of the sound desk. After Nan You’re a Window Shopper and Shame For You, Littlest Things emerged with a beautifully demure and minimalist live treatment that allowed Lily Allen’s vocals to glow and gave hyped-up fans an early breather.
“This next song is about guys with small dicks,” laughed Lily Allen as she introduced Not Big, which really got girls dancing and a handful of boys looking somewhat bashful.
The horn section retired for a few songs and, accompanied solely by her proficient bassist and keyboardist, Lily Allen launched into Everybody’s Changing by Keane and Naïve by The Kooks. Both covers were given a light, absorbing two-step interpretation, which unlike typical live reworks added a fresh dimension to each track.
Upon the band’s return, the album favourites were rolled out and an increasingly drunk Lily Allen ordered an increasingly drunk crowd to pretend the weekend had landed before launching into Friday Night. Knock ’Em Out followed and had female fans screaming in unison for revolution, and Smile ended the set as the clear pinnacle of the evening.
Lily Allen returned for a short sweet encore, with a brilliant cover of Blondie’s Heart of Glass, followed by the kooky ode to her stoner brother, Alfie.
As Lily Allen sauntered offstage to the sound of a satisfied roar, all signs suggested her legacy has just begun. Lily Allen is one of the most astute social observers of her generation and if she can avoid the celebrity deathtraps she so frequently critiques, there is a remarkably bright future ahead.
See more at www.thewest.com.au
