Sorry Lily. It’s not
us, it’s you.
By Fred Mills
The Academy has been polled, the voters have been sent home,
and the sergeant at arms has the final results. Envelope please…. It’s official
now: the new Lily Allen album It’s Not
Me, It’s You is a major turd.
You can read what BLURT had to say in a critique posted
today at our CD reviews kiosk – or simply follow this link. Our crack reporter
(or reporter on crack, take your pick, Allen fans), citing Greg Kurstin’s “lifeless
production” on this “self-reflective, morning after album,” concludes that
despite the presence of a couple of catchy songs, “in the end, it’s just not
fun enough to make [the album] worth wrapping your head around.”
Lest you think we’re dumping on Lily needlessly, check out
the tepid critical tally over at Metacritic.com, in which Allen eked out a
middling 71% rating (based on 29 reviews thus far – hey Metacritic, will ours
knock that percentage down further?). While suck-ups like Britain’s Guardian, the NME and our own Entertainment
Weekly and Blender awarded Allen
upwards of 80% in shameless bids to ensure that the dippy diva would continue to
grant them access on her upcoming tour, wiser heads prevailed over at PopMatters (60%), Paste (52%) and Uncut (a
scathing 20% – the reviewer terms that album, variously, “pallid,” “excruciating”
and an “extended moan”).
Craptastic, in other words. Sorry Lily. It’s not us, it’s you.