Doing post-divorce revenge well is an art. Princess Diana’s iconic black “revenge dress” still stands as one of the most deliciously savage stunts in modern history—a masterclass in looking good while telling your ex to choke on his regrets. Lily Allen’s newest album, West End Girl, doesn’t quite hit that level of royal savagery, but it’s a strong modern contender.
After a seven-year hiatus, Allen is back, and she’s not holding back. The British pop singer claws through her now ex-husband, David Harbour, better known as “Jim Hopper” from “Stranger Things”, mocking, exposing, and practically dismantling him through song.
Across fourteen tracks, Allen unpacks a relationship riddled with open marriage experiments, whispered infidelity, and a woman named Madeline. She never names Harbour directly, but no one’s fooled. Fans know exactly who she’s talking about.
Just a few days ago, Allen posted her Halloween costume on TikTok- Madeline, the sweet British children’s character and, not coincidentally, the fake name of her ex’s alleged mistress. It’s a move so petty it’s practically performance art. And frankly, I think more women should embrace this level of creative vengeance when their exes deserve it.
Allen calls the album “autofiction,” but there’s truth pulsing through every note. The title track captures the moment she realizes her relationship is cracking. After buying a New York brownstone with Harbour, she lands a London stage role—and his reaction? Tepid, at best. The song ends with a one-sided phone call where she seems to agree to an open relationship, separated by continents and growing indifference.
Few artists today pull off this kind of intimacy. The dramatized phone call may not be real, but the ache behind it absolutely is. It drags listeners into her world, whether they want to be dragged or not—and that’s part of the thrill.
That unease defines the album. It’s raw, vulnerable, and occasionally hard to listen to, but that’s what makes it so compelling. Allen doesn’t just tell us what happened, she makes us feel it.
“Ruminating” is another standout. With its pulsing beat and sharp tempo, it’s a far cry from Allen’s earlier bubbly pop. But this is her revenge era—louder, darker, and far more cutting.
If you’re new to Allen, think Amy Winehouse with a bit of hyper-pop chaos. I fell for her 2006 debut Alright, Still, and while “West End Girl” sounds nothing like it, that’s kind of the point. She’s evolving—musically and personally.
This album leans into synths, techno, and restless energy. Songs like “Relapse” glide forward, alive and unbothered by what came before. It’s not her old music, and thank God, it’s evolution.
West End Girl proves you can humiliate your terrible ex and make something brilliant out of it. Is it her best album? Probably not. But it’s sharp, catchy, and incredibly vengeful—an anthem for anyone who’s ever been wronged and wanted the last laugh. And in that sense, Lily Allen wins.
