rock nyc’s Tenth Year Anniversary Celebration: Lily Allen live at Roseland April 20th, 2009 reviewed; the Dead were the Byrds, no, really

Written by | January 28, 2019 4:46 am | No Comments


(There couldn’t have been a better time to see Lily, she was a huge multi-media star in the UK and on the verge here, she was young, insolent, clever and sexy and the world was hers…. Long before she was crying about being thrown out of her house -IL)

The back up band was a bit nondescript, the mix was screwed up on the first two songs, she didn’t perform “Alfie” and otherwise Lily was excellent at Roseland last night.

I arrived halfway through the opening band’s set and I have one valuable piece of advice for them: CHANGE YOUR NAME. They are a fun young band with amusing songs and a pleasing attitude; they sound a bit like the B-52’s and they sure should have a career but I, for one, had no interest in a band named Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head.

Lily stands center stage chain smoking cigarettes and giggling before telling us she wrote the next song for her mother though everyone thinks its for a guy thereby single handedly saving it from the lyrical banality I heard on “It’s Not Me, It’s You” . The song is “Chinese” and it’s a stellar version of a suddenly much sweeter song.

Actually, every song is an improvement, best of all Lily dancing furiously to a roaring “Back to The Start” and the band jamming hard. Even the acoustic portion was pretty good with “He Wasn’t there” a particular pleasure.

Lily is a very good live performer -she reminds me of Courtney Love in that they both give the appearance of intimacy where no intimacy exists. She takes off her hoodie and later a blouse leaving only a wife beater. “Can you see my nipples?” Lily ask (to quote Obama: yes we can), later still she flashes the audience. It’s cheeky not nasty, the set is all in white and Lily is so, ahem, innocent, she deserves the purity. Innocence is not synonymous with good: innocence means not knowing… there is something oblivious to Allen’s effects even as she manipulates them.

She encores with “Smile,” “The Fear” and “Womanizer” and it’s a knock out conclusion.

In the end Lily Allen doesn’t have potential, she has surpassed any question of potential. Who knows what tomorrow brings? Drugs are a tricky business as is celebrityhood, “It’s Not Me, It’s You” did not light up the charts (she should pull off another single -not “F– You”, a crap song and a lousy idea for an EP) and she should start the process of becoming a Long Term Artist. Having said all that, Lily Allen proved it all last night.

Next up? The Dead at MSG on Saturday. I am no Deadhead but I worship their two country-rock albums “American Beauty” and “Workingman’s Dead”. Having said that, I am too much a child of punk to give in entirely to jam bands; it feels self-indulgent to me even now. Still, Louis Armstrong taught me how to listen to Miles Davis and Miles Davis (on stuff like “Bitches Brew,” “Big Fun” and the awesome jazz-rock fusion “Black Magus”) taught me to listen to jam bands like Phish, the Allman Brothers and the Grateful Dead.

This will be my third  Dead (Grateful or otherwise) concert and I haven’t dropped acid since I worked at “East Village Eye” in the early ’80s so here’s hoping for a flashback.


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