Skipping hand-in-hand into the sunlight alongside my complete and comprehensical coverage of Lily Allen’s debut CD ‘Alright, Still’ (see previous postings) comes its compact and more concise little cousin – the CD single ‘Smile’. Bringing with it (in the course of its gambolling/frolicking trajectory) an interesting little conundrum for yours truly: What more can one add in reviewing a CD single when one has already committed 600 odd words and counting to discussing its more ample and anatomically fleshed-out relative? Is there nought left to utter? Either positive or extra-detrimental? And another thing: Should I even BOTHER wrangling this particular review to text? Is there anyone out there in inthemix land who even purchases CD singles? Sure the odd aspiring DJ mongst you prolly stockpiles the Vinyl variety like a squirrel hoards munchies – and no doubt everyone’s had a go at dodgily acquiring favoured tunes from LimeWire and such, but aren’t CD singles currently the realm of the infantile and the tween-olescent? Along with their OC memorabilia? Their ALF pogs? Cabbage Patch Dolls? My Little Pony? (what the hell are kids into these days?) I do digress however (in a valiant effort to beef this ramble up to a more standard reviewal size). I have this disc in my hands to review and review it I shall.

You’ve all heard Allen’s single ‘Smile’ by now, the song itself and the rags-to-riches story behind its Number One surge. And unless you’re deaf or dead (or an eerie zombified mixture of the two) you’ve no doubt drawn your own conclusions as to whether Lily Allen is the latest Pop-Princess-in-Ascension or merely a spoilt-little-homogeneous-brat with an immensely marketable back-story. Love her/hate her/wish to god she’d keel over – in the Lily Allen Likeability Spectrum there are very few shades of grey in between.

For mine: ‘Smile’ is a jangling infectious reggae-tinged number that generously samples some piano-work from a 60’s ska-song that I shan’t pretend to have heard of nor spotted. Allen’s breathy post-pubescent vocals bubble and froth over everything as deep down beneath it all beats a dark lyrical heart. The CD-single version is disappointingly f-word free but even the lack of potty-mouth can’t disguise the little vicious streak on display. Beginning as a bitter sob about an unfaithful ex (“You were fucking (boofing on the ‘clean’ version) that girl next door / What’d you do that for?”), with a dash of female empowerment (“With a little help from my friends/I found a light in the tunnel at the end”) and culminating in sadistic voyeurism (“At first when I see you cry – yeah it makes me smile.. Yeah it makes me smile..”). There’s a surprisingly bitter centre to this fluffy little tune that ostensibly should be filled with nought but sugar-flavoured air.

Oft times creatively compared with Mike Skinner from the Streets (I fostered that association myself) – it’s perhaps more accurate to view the delectable Ms Allen in the same light as an artist such as Robbie Williams. Both undeniably charismatic, foul-mouthed and witty people – but when it comes to their musical output these positive personal characteristics are buried beneath mountains of moosh and sugar and pop-lets of faeces.

Also on offer on the single are two non-album tracks ‘Cheryl Tweedy’ and ‘Absolutely Nothing’ that delve a little off the pop-music path (but not too far off that they can’t still make out the path’s contours and direction) and a thoroughly bodgy over-synthesised sounding remix of the title track.