[Lily Allen’s] understated introduction to the world was that Saturday morning wake-up from the flashy Friday night of .com 40 puffery. Fear not: all isn’t lost in the MySpace generation; for the ten thousand avastars, there is Lily Allen: the reason, that just so happens to rhyme with silly. So, allow she to reintroduce herself…
Wednesday night, amidst Atlanta’s metropolitan backdrop of ubiquitous development, and the internal company of a most eclectic motley crew of New South denizens, Buckhead Theatre became the stellar soundboard for Lily Allen’s latest iteration, No Shame.
The Scene: Lily’s setlist spanned eleven years of the Wordsworth of the MySpace Generation’s rhythmic discourses and dialogues by-way-of Pop lyricism; line by line, the audience retraced the footsteps and and soundtreks that led us through said decade of lucid chances… oscillating fame, and independent identity lost and found.
In this economy any job is an alright job, and Lily Allen is doing a pretty much amazing job of keeping her resume alright, still. Her latest single, slated for an August release, is “22.” The Fiona Apple-esque ditty is a snapshot — rather, a requiem — of a modern teen/twenty-something girl/woman on the brink of adulthood/precipice of their social peak (if it’s that convoluted to explain, I can only imagine how daunting the day-to-day must be for those girls … oh wait I don’t have to imagine, I do live that day-to-day — I am one of those girls).
Silver lining … anyone? I can wait — seeing as my life is “already over” — sad, but true — que triste, pero que sera.
Atmospheric video with a solid concept: I approve.
Watch this space: If only because this was the first song I heard to ring in my 22nd birthday/college graduation, and misery loves company — if we happen to cross paths, feel free to sit on the dock of the bay with this 22 year old soon-to-be-spinster-cat-lady. Oh that Lily: always pushing kids to “Dream Big!”