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Litigating my love life in the court of my close friends is one of the great joys of mobile phone ownership in 2025. But what we keep in the group chat, pop stars turn into surprise-release albums. And so it comes to Allen, who last week released her fifth album, West End Girl, a ground-scorching set of 14 songs recorded in the wake of a high-profile divorce, which proves that stars are not really like us, not at all.
The album, written and recorded over a fortnight in Los Angeles, London and New York at the tail end of last year, is Allen’s fifth and her first since 2018’s No Shame. In those seven years, she married Stranger Things actor David Harbour, moved to New York, won parts on the West End, separated from Harbour and returned to London. The singer, 40, has said that the album is a blend of fact and fiction, telling British Vogue: “There are things that are on the record that I experienced within my marriage, but that’s not to say that it’s all gospel.” Fair enough, and she moves through awkwardness quickly, on the very first song in fact. “Now I’m in London, I’m on my own,” she sings on that title track, “I’m in a hotel room, I’m all on my own.” (Sad, though I doubt it was a Travelodge.)
The story she tells is of a marriage that is opened up, with rules that are quickly broken. The feelings, of hurt and surprise and anger, are dotted with contemporary insecurities: she reads his texts, he snatches his phone away. Refreshingly, children are mostly sidelined in favour of a man who presented one thing, came back with a counter offer and then simply committed fraud. In the deliciously catchy seventh track, titled “Pussy Palace”, Allen sings about finding a Duane Reade bag full of sex toys and condoms. “You’re so fucking broken,” she concludes, “how’d I get caught up in your double life?” (The more arresting image on that song is of a panicked Allen stuck on the F train in New York, desperate to get home, but “there’s a problem on the line.”)
Amid the deluge of tawdry news pieces about the album, it is easy to forget the music, executively produced by Allen, Seb Chew, Kito and Blue May. On the album’s most intricately formed song, “Tennis”, Allen sings about a partner’s newfound hobby – is it a racquet sport, or is he constantly messaging someone else? – to a hypnotic beat. Then an exquisite, insecure cut-through: “Who is Madeline?” On the next track, entitled “Madeline”, she channels Dolly Parton and confronts the aforementioned mistress over a Western beat. On sunny pop track “Dallas Major”, which will surely become a single, Allen tries on a persona and hits the dating scene again (conclusion? She hates it here). This is smart stuff, which makes a few of the failures so corny: I’m not sure any song has been improved by the addition of a phone call, as happens on both “West End Girl” and “Madeline”.
The album should hopefully remind many listeners of Allen’s outsized influence on pop music (this writer was never in any doubt). Her conversational style of singing – introduced in her 2006 debut Alright, Still and perfected on sophomore record It’s Not Me, It’s You – echoes in current-day music from Gracie Abrams and Olivia Rodrigo. Her observations on modern fame, changing from tabloid culture to social media to wherever-the-hell-we-are-now, is in conversation with rap and the diaristic musings of uber pop stars. But Allen has always remained singular in her spikiness, even as popular culture demanded relatability from female celebrities throughout the mid-2010s. (If you tripped up at the Oscars, there was a chance that Buzzfeed would make a GIF out of you!)
With West End Girl, Allen eschews all that – though listeners will find this very relatable, and I tear up every time I think about my vacant brownstone – for something altogether more exciting: making a power move out of oversharing. This music, apparently formed in an alchemical way, marries tight hooks with tighter lyrics. No matter the truth of any of this album – though it’s clear her emotions are real enough – you cannot help but feel for Allen and, if we are being very honest, the dude on the receiving end. It certainly doesn’t sound like she made the first move, but she’s definitely forced a checkmate.
‘West End Girl’ is out now via BMG
