WEAR SUM UNDERPANTZ, LILY ALLEN!

Lily Allen kind of pissed me off this year. She made no attempts whatsoever to hide her blatant drug abuse or drunken shennaniganry. I can’t say she sucks for partaking in the typical early 20-something socialite behavior, but I was annoyed that this so far passed any mentioning of her musical abilities. Instead of cleaning up around the paparazzi or simply dismissing the gossip, she would take to MySpace of all outlets and vent about how she wanted to kill herself because someone called her “fat,” (when bitch, please, you’re noooootttt fattt, you’re beautiful. . . . was really all she was fishing for). c’mon. She has a cute voice, can pick the upbeat pop rhythms, and made a pretty solid debut record. That’s why I thought when she trashed herself out and I had to read about her skankiness all over perezhilton.com I almost became embarrassed of being a fan, something it takes quite a bit of sucking to get to. Actually, I’m not embarrassed to admit liking sucky bands, fuck, I’ve got lil’ Wayne all over my iPod (actually, omit that, lil Wayne does NOT suck,) and I used to scream my professional love to hall & oates, I even have a sugar ray cd somewhere, (although you know what, I’m not guilty, I really do think they suck and haven’t heard “fly” since like 10^th grade).

WHATEVER. Anyway, Lily Allen sucked big time and I was tired of her despite loving “Alright Still” only a year before. BUT. Miss Allen has redeemed herself. “The Fear” is disgustingly catchy. Delectable. Juicy. Ironic. Witty. Cute. The video is like a Bourgeoisie version of Alice in Wonderland meets Cinderella in the 21^st century. Meet Lily, prancing around from her trailer park into a virtual mansion plum full of cupcakes, dancing gifts, balloon dancers, hottie butlers galore and mucho pinks and purples decked out with checker board floors. Much like how I imagined my dream sweet 16, I guess you could say. Track is reminiscent of a John Hughes score, 80’s and synthed out. Lily singing about getting naked since that’s how you get famous, it’s just a downright good time. Then I hear Stereogum’s posted cover of Britney’s “Womanizer?” Bitch, please! That cover is way damned better than the original and has received even more plays on my iTunes that the hood internet mash-up with Dept of Eagles (No one Womanizes Like You). Sooo good. All 3. Well, except the Britney version, anyway. (Although, please feel free to call me out when you flip through my iPod and find even that version accounted for—what can I say? I heard it at the MAC store and thought it was catchy. . . . You go girl, make that comeback, you deserve it.)

So I guess I’m excited to hear Lily’s second attempt. It’s due out on Capital in February. Along with Lily, I’m eager to hear what Chicago native Mr. Andrew Bird has up his sleeves although I’ve gotten a pretty good taste already with all the internet leaks and his free set at Pritzker Pavilion at Grant Park this past summer. Solid. Dude can work multiple crazy ass instruments simultaneously, sing like a siren and still look mighty fine in a suit and tie. For this, I adore him. In final anticipation? Fucking BLUR is getting back together!!!!! I mean, shit girl, shit. None of this “Crazy Beat” nonsense either, or whatever the fuck Damon tried to excuse for a single/album a few years back. That shit was bananas, and not in a good way—just a bunch of overproduced noise. Albarn needs to keep that shit restricted to Gorillaz, doesn’t he realize that Blur is actual singing and geetars? Fuck the synthesizers—save that stuff for resurrecting Park Life, feel free to bask in the glory of early 90’s/late 80’s power pop, but do NOT whip that noise out in the late ‘00’s, bro. C’mon. You know better. Mr. Graham Coxon is pretty fucking talented, take advantage of his skills instead. You don’t need false instrumentation sound-alike’s, you need the real deal. So thank you and congratulations, future husband of mine, you made a very wise decision in patching up the bygones with Graham, you and he and Alex and whatever the other dude is named will make a hellaciously radical comeback album and tour in Chicago very very soon where I can openly melt in pleasure, singing and dancing and drooling along to your musical masterminds. Anything you touch turns to gold, Mr. Albarn—gorillaz, your freaky solo African project, the collaborations with fatboy slim, fuck it, even that god-awful monkey opera is good; just please, stick away from another song like “crazy beat.” I’m confident Graham won’t let you. And this is good.

Morales of the story? Lily, wear underpants and stay away from the nose candy. Focus in the studio and wear my cute dresses in your videos. Andrew, you are fucking awesome—stay that way. Damon, Graham, play nice and don’t disappoint me.

I’m confident with all your combined powers; you will make 2009 a solid year in music and maybe even put 2008 to shame. Here’s to hoping anyway, my fingers IZ crossed. I’ve also heard murmurs of another yeah Yeah Yeahs and Kanye sans autotune? OH MY GOD. I think I’ve just gone in heat even thinking these dirty little thoughts. . .