Princess Diana, Lily Allen, and I all share a common experience: men have cheated on us. Lily Allen took the world by storm last year when she released West End Girl, recounting the breakdown of her marriage with actor David Harbour. Off the back of this success, Allen has embarked on a UK tour. I had the pleasure of attending her London Palladium show.
Far from a traditional setup, the first 45 minutes of the show relied on audience participation. String ensemble Dallas Minor Trio performed some of Allen’s hit tracks while the crowd sang along, needing little aid from the lyrics projected above the stage.
This unorthodox format has come under scrutiny in some corners of the internet. The Guardian in particular wrote a scathing review: “Staging hits like this might be cute as a 10-minute-long introduction, but as the entire 45-minute first half of a much-anticipated comeback show, it risks testing the patience of the audience.” I could not disagree more. Clad in polka dots and Adidas, the audience sang and danced along with great enthusiasm and I would personally rather have a good ol’ knees up instead of yawning through a mediocre support act. This participation continued during the main performance. A shout of “Fuck you Harbour!” gave everyone a chuckle during the staged call in “West End Girl”.
Allen took to the stage alone, with an evolving set to aid the strong storytelling. The setup made the performance all the more humanising as she flexed her acting muscles from track to track. “Relapse” was incredibly touching to listen to, but watching Allen desperately searching for relief in her handbag, taking intermittent puffs of her vape, and reminding herself of all she stands to lose if she doesn’t stay strong, broke my heart. “Ruminating” also featured an impressive light show with fluorescent projections of Allen beating in time with the intense bass.
The sound in the Palladium was spot on, clear and well balanced, something you would expect from a venue that has been supporting performances for over 100 years. The vocals were also exceptional, the only bum notes coming from the audience.
Despite the narrative being so personal, Allen doesn’t shy away from comic relief. A pair of stilettoed legs living in the fridge enhanced the theatrical, dramatic nature of the performance. The plush greens and pinks of the stage dressing echoed the interior design of the Brooklyn townhouse she shared with Harbour, featured in Architectural Digest in 2023.
The only aspect I can fault was the four double pages of ads in the back of my £15 programme. I’m a sucker for physical media, but honestly, these pages (especially the peanut butter ad) were disappointing. It felt like a bit of a slap in the face after paying for the ticket and merch. However, this is a small gripe considering I had so much fun at the performance. The subject of modern merch is something I’ll get round to writing about on its own.
I feel incredibly lucky to have attended this tour. It is clear from the letter on the cover of the programme that Allen herself never expected to tour again. I was eight years old when ‘Smile’ was released. Seeing Allen perform in person healed both my inner child and the young woman I became after a man I trusted cheated on me with someone who even shared my name. Who the fuck is Liz?