Welcome to Pop Pantheon the podcast where we completely overanalyze all of your favorite pop stars and then rank them in the official Pop Pantheon.

This is your host, DJ Louis X.

And I want to let you know that we

have a mailbag episode coming up very soon. So do you have questions about pop music, about pop divas,

about this podcast, about the state of entertainment, about Russ and I, about how we make the show,

about tier rankings, whatever you can think of. We want to hear about it from you. So send your

mailbag questions to pop pantheon pod at gmail.com. We prefer to hear your voice. Send us a voice

note, but we will also take written questions and get them in as soon as you can. Don't forget

to rate review and subscribe to this podcast wherever you're listening to it now. Follow us on social

media at pop pantheon pod by our merch at poppanpod.com. And subscribe to this podcast wherever you're listening to it now. Follow us on social media as PopPantheon Pod by our merch at Poppantheonpod.com.

And subscribe to our Patreon, Poppantheon, All Access, where we do weekly bonus episodes of this show.

You can also subscribe for the audio only directly in the Apple Podcast app.

For this week's A-side, we're taking on a favorite of my coming of adulthood.

Lily Allen, obviously, she has been in the news a lot lately for her acclaimed album from last

year, West End Girl, sort of a return to form, which made us feel like it was the perfect time

to take a deep dive into the story in history of Lily Allen, why she was huge in the UK,

why she wasn't as big in the

US, and how she has in many ways set the stage for this messy era of pop girly dumb.

So without further ado, here it is Pop Pantheon, Lily Allen.

If there's one unifying thread for pop divadom in the 2020s, it's mess,

embracing it, reveling in it, and maybe even purposefully generating it.

Today, from Lord to Siza, Charlie, Doja, Olivia Chapel, and at least untortured poets, Taylor Swift herself, Our pop girls, in their work, and outside of it, kick up dust, throw themselves on the floor, fall on their asses, cry, curse, laugh menacingly, expose the seams, and generally lean in to the shitstorm as a key access point for an audience ravenous for relatability. But that wasn't necessarily the case when Lily Allen burst onto the scene with her scrappy, trenchant, and no fucks-given pay-on to messy boots all right still in 2006. At that point, Alan was an antidote to the anodyne, a seemingly regular girl with a big brain and an even bigger mouth, who stumbled into superstardom saying whatever was on her mind even when it got got her in deep shit. Looking around today, though, Lily was the canary in the coal mine, setting

...