Album Review: Through Girl With No Face, Allie X Brings Identity to the Forefront
From the opening lines of Girl With No Face, the listener is in for a wild ride. With gothic tones, synth-pop production, and some of the most powerful and affecting music she’s created to date, Allie X takes us through a kaleidoscopic world of formless, faceless beauty and terror, as though we’re surfing through the very folds of her brain. Through the eleven-song run, Girl With No Face proves to be one of the strongest early releases of 2024, at least for me, and a welcome addition to my music library.
“Weird World” kicks off the album with steaming power and purpose. “I used to be a dream girl, but the world interfered,” groans Allie X, immediately stripping her identity, laying bare the purpose of the collection: to explore what lies beyond the masks created to shield one’s soul and protect the ego. It’s well-trodden territory for any writer worth their salt, ask Edgar Allen Poe and Nathaniel Hawthorne. “At least now I know I’m weird,” she continues, with a few “Hail Satans” for some added camp. Then, she turns the camera on the audience: “Maybe you can’t see it, but you live in one too.” No one is safe from the artifice of reality and the realness of identity that boils beneath. The girl with no face is now the mouthpiece for the timeless struggle between the individual and the world.
With such heady subject matter, it makes sense to swathe the collection with gothic sounds. Riling synths, wailing vocals, and screeching guitar licks fan the flames of Girl With No Face, allowing Allie X to control an inferno of emotion with flailing arms and a silver tongue. As if possessed by Kate Bush, Cocteau Twins, and Madonna, Allie X becomes an oracle.
“Off With Her Tits,” one of the campiest songs I’ve heard in recent years, sets the stage for the weirder and wonderful bits of the collection. A banshee-shrieking anthem to body dysmorphia, and gender dysphoria, Allie X curses Aphrodite, visits the plastic surgeon, and begs for the ridicule to end, ridicule that often surrounds those suffering from over-sexualization and infantalization. Once the blaring production falls away, the core of the song is that of lament, of desiring freedom from expectation and stereotypes that haunt certain bodies. “Wanna be parallel/ I’m gonna be parallel,” she mourns, her mission statement to find equality at the unfortunate price of disfigurement, whether metaphorical or physical.
Even the softer moments are barbed. “Galina,” an ode to vulnerability lost, questions why our loving selves sometimes lie dormant, speaking to the curse of defense mechanisms brought on by external factors. “Galina,” a word and name of Russian origin meaning “peace” or “tranquility,” acts as a foil to the spikey persona Allie X establishes early in the album, a soft side mummified by pain, like an inner child going to sleep. “Galina wake up, I’m running out of luck, and I get so ugly without you,” she pleads, begging the vulnerable side of her to reclaim its territory, to provide respite from the harsh, mean sides of one’s personality that often take over in response to the demands and harshness of the world.
“You Slept On Me” echoes the campier sentiments of “Off With Her Tits,” this time throwing it back on the audience, or those who have turned a blind eye to X’s output and artistry. “I need to make money, so give me yours,” she demands. The faceless girl dons her bitchy mask to full effect and hilarious seriousness. For those of us who have followed X through her career, the song is a welcome statement. No one should sleep on Allie X, especially after the release of Girl With No Face. The song devolves into a cacophonous symphony, a headrush of ‘80s-inflected power pop. It's masterful in its ability to juggle the surreal tone and the very real subject matter: artists depend on the public, and “You Slept on Me” and its anger is justified.
Though the album never dips into proper balladry, the tracks “Saddest Smile,” “Hardware Software,” and “Staying Power” do bring balance to the higher energy songs, allowing Allie X to stretch her legs and echo deeper parts of her identity, from sadness, the pain of nostalgia, aging, depression, and personal resilience with operatic gusto. Throughout the album, Allie X never drops the ball on this perfect sound. I would say this is the most comfortable and free she’s ever sounded, despite the heavier topics the album presents. For an artist that’s always evolving, I wouldn’t mind her staying in this lane for a while.
I would call Girl With No Face a skipless record, a high accolade in my mind. Whacky, gothy ’80s production, heavy lyricism, and a wondrous sense of camp propel Allie X forward, giving her the energy to explore the facets of complex human personality. I’ll be listening to and dissecting Girl With No Face well into the future. By releasing pretense and dropping the visages crafted for the outer world, Allie X becomes a shifting spirit, ready to tackle whatever comes her way and to attack the world head-on, finding identity in the struggle.
