Music
27 Mar 09

Lily Allen live at The Academy, Dublin

For all of her abundant charm and ability to hold a note, Allen has yet to master the complexities of working a crowd.

There’s no surer sign of an artist going supernova than a VIP area full of model-types who don’t know their Anvils from their Elbows.
For a sizable chunk of tonight’s audience, Lily Allen is an A-List celebrity first, and singer of wonderfully perverse pop songs second. This is part of the reason why after the initial euphoria of the 23-year-old walking on in a black tulip skirt, white string top and vertiginous heels – I’ve fashionista pretensions of my own – the atmosphere goes decidedly flat.
The other is the lack of excitement emanating from the stage. For all of her abundant charm and ability to hold a note – rumours of an Auto-Tune dependency prove to be wide of the mark – Allen has yet to master the complexities of working a crowd à la Gwen Stefani or (when she’s compos mentis) Amy Winehouse. Her cause isn’t helped by a four-piece backing band who’ve undergone a collective charisma bypass operation and look every bit the hired hands. ‘I Could Say’, ‘Never Gonna Happen’, the Kaisers by way of Mark Ronson ‘Oh My God’, ‘LDN’, ‘He Wasn’t There’, ‘Back To The Start’, and ‘Chinese’ – great songs all – come and go without much change in the collective mood. The exception being the girl in the front-row who for reasons we never ascertain bursts into tears.
“You’re making me sad,” Lily says before handing the blubberer in question a consoling bottle of wine.
Perhaps sensing that things have gone a bit flat and/or energised by the pints of wine she’s been downing herself, Allen launches into ‘Fuck You’ (tastefully dedicated to her 8-year-old cousin) with a gusto you wouldn’t have thought from the previous 45 minutes she had in her.
With the band and crowd perking up accordingly, we’re treated to a manic pop thrill of a finale that includes ‘Not Fair’, ‘Littlest Things’, ‘Smile’, ‘The Fear’ and ‘Womanizer’ – yes, the Britney one.
Even the orange tanned beanpoles in front of me are dancing, making it mission partially accomplished for Ms. Allen who by all accounts – especially Felix Da Housecat’s – went on partying long into the Dublin night.