Lily Allen. Where do you begin? It’s cheap slagging an obviously troubled girl in her early twenties, but fuck it, life is what it is. What’s to despise about Lily? The fashion, the laughable notion that she’s a feminist icon, her Dad, the way she sounds every time she opens her Sylvia Young stage school gob, the way you know her opinion on absolutely everything before she gives you it, her Dad, that bloody lyric rhyming ‘al fresco’ and ‘Tesco’ and the fact Miranda Sawyer likes her. Oh, and her Dad.
The reason for my ire is that lily has decided to release her new single and it’s passable. No, really. It sounds a bit like Sleeper. Now you may say – and you’d be right – that sounding a bit like Sleeper in 2009 isn’t much of an achievement. And that’s what’s truly galling about our Lil. She makes cheap indieish music for the Radio 1 white van and student audience. She’s managed, laughably, to carve out a TV career of sorts off the back of it. But that isn’t enough for her. She’s a serious artist. We should want to know what she thinks about, like, stuff.
Basically, she’s yet another example of why ELM’s policy of altruistic pop star genocide should now be the number one priority on the Government’s Spring priorties list. The Credit Crunch is too far gone; it’s time to focus on the issues we can deal with.
Oh, and Dido; you’re next.