Kate Nash is the perfect pop starlet. She sounds enough like one existing star to make her an already snug fit for your tastes (if it needs spelling out for you--L.I.L.Y.A.L.L.E.N--there’s no getting away from the thematic and elocutionary parallels, no matter how much the lady doth protest). She’s ordinary-ish. She’s you, your girlfriend, that girl over there you adore/admire, only clearly cuter and packed with a sharper tongue. She sings of nothing much, but sings it with juicy vim and bright expressions through a deliciously theatrical voice-box, a hangover from her stage school background that faltered, leading her to channel her wit and personality into writing songs. A sprinkling of anarchy too--something for the parents to disapprove of? Well, she’s got a filthy mouth and a frankly blasé grasp of the Queen’s English. It’s a shame really that she’s not quite made the perfect pop debut to match, but Made of Bricks is a damn fine first run, when it gets it right. The jerky prelude to the album proper, "Play" reminds briefly of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Bis, segueing into the Lily Allen plays Carter USM playfulness of "Foundations". "Dickhead" is a silly, smoky blues ditty, the massive, gyrating "Pumpkin Song" is Sugababes with their hair pulled behind the bike sheds, key-hammering highlight "Mariella" reminds of expressive vaudeville New Yorkers the Dresden Dolls and "We Get On" could be a Grease outtake, though nothing the innocent Olivia Newton John would ever wrap her lips around. Like Lily Allen then, but not that much. -- James Berry
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