Back in May, when I first heard Lily Allen (myspace), I described her music as “what summer should sound like.” Her bright, jerked pop has enough bite to get at your worries, enough bark to laugh them away. Filling but not heavy, smart but not heady, there’s this sense of being constantly at play – with samples and words and the shape of your mouth and life and stuff – without getting all obsessive about it. Apply liberally, and head out into the sun. It is autumn now.
It is autumn and, though Allen’s album Alright, Still has yet to be released in the United States, she’s here on one of those skip-stop select-city showcase tours that never seems to go well for would-be international starlets (see: Annie, M.I.A.). But you know what? An unseasonably warm October day and a set of appropriately lowered expectations could have you thinking little Lil’d brought a bit of summer back with her. We’re stuck between seasons, and Allen’s having some trouble with the transition from studio to stage performer. There was this formal nervousness on display, last night. Her band, whom she introduced as “The Band,” (keyboards, bass, trumpet, tenor sax and trombone – no live percussion or guitars, lots of playback) was mostly decked out in tour t-shirts and hoodies; Allen entered during their intro to “LDN,” dudded up in a smart black-and-white frock and some bling (scary hoop earrings, a Star of David necklace), topped by a mod ‘ffant and bangs so sharp they could cut through a tin can (and still slice through an overripe tomato!). She did little to engage the crowd and often seemed surprised they were reacting. She seemed more intent on surviving the experience than enjoying herself.
Which isn’t what summer’s about at all.
Lucky for her she’s got some infallible tunes and a lovely, lilting instrument. Her voice is pure and accurate – you get the feeling that, were she to start singing in a forest, she’d attract a posse of friendly animated woodland creatures – and several numbers gave her room to verbally, wordlessly noodle. Her delivery wasn’t fierce enough, though, sometimes lacking the volume to distinguish live from Memorex, often lacking the ‘tude her lyrics deserve.
The Lily Allen Concert Experience (check it out, I just named her group) would be infinitely better if they dumped the playback and the pretense of recreating Alright’s sound. The show really had punch when the band’s horns – often inactive, sometimes playing parts that got lost in the mix – cut themselves loose. The trumpet gave “Friday Night” life, and a Dixieland-style trombone solo seriously toked up the oom-pa anfem “Alfie.” I think they’d find that sparer arrangements would highlight the star, that live drums would make everything warmer, more immediate. And you don’t need pre-recorded back-up tracks when the audience sings like they did during “LDN” last night (via, sound seems to be out of sync?): Seriously, these songs grab at the corners of your mouth like a Comprachico surgeon. Allen, as nervous/aloof as she was, still had tons of charisma. She doesn’t bring pin-up looks or intriguing exoticism to the stage; instead she has the sort of likeability that makes you want to see her succeed, that makes you want her foul-mouthed calypso-loving chum-next-door as more than just a fair-weather friend.
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And Such Small Portions Dept.: Friends don’t charge friends max ticket amounts ($22?! – and, of course, it sold out) for half-hour sets. I’m sure someone will come along with a more accurate set-list, but I think this is what was covered:
LDN – Nan You’re a Window Shopper – Knock ‘Em Out – Friday Night – Littlest Things – Shame for You – Smile – Encore: Alfie
Short for an opening act, nevermind a headliner. Before the band took the stage, a roadie put out towels for all the performers – an insult to anyone who’s actually worked up a sweat. It would be one thing if Allen’d maxed out her material, but she hadn’t: Not only does she have more songs – she left out my favorite one, actually, “Everything’s Just Wonderful” – but she’s performed others, live (Check out these UK concert reviews from Music Like Dirt and The Daily Growl). *
One of the sloppiest parts of Mark Ronson’s busy, sloppy DJ set was the attempt to transition the Kaiser Chiefs’ “Oh My God” into Allen’s cover of same. And I only caught the last few songs of Domino’s (myspace) set, but the combination of them, Hiro’s silly Asian theme, and the goofy swirling club lights made me feel like I’d crashed someone’s high school prom. *
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Eat Spaghetti Bolognese for Blogs and Blogs and Blogs:
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