On the eve of the release of Lily Allen’s fourth album, No Shame, the reluctant pop star has graced us with another single and video, “Lost My Mind,” a track in keeping with the primary thematic element of the record–which is the mourning of another relationship gone wrong. But perhaps the worst thing about it having gone wrong is that it was supposed to be the type of “grown up” affair that lasted–withstood all the petty arguments and frivolous squabbles. As Allen makes it well-known to all on other such tracks as “Family Man,” this simply wasn’t the case with her now ex-husband, Sam Cooper (the divorce went through earlier this year). She crystallizes this in the metaphor wielded in the video for “Lost My Mind.”
As a proud Brit, it seems almost strange that Allen and director Myles Whittingham (who also did the video for “Trigger Bang“) should loosely allude to that infamous scene in Trainspotting–the filmic pride and joy of Scotland–wherein Mark Renton (Ewan McGregor) sees a topsy-turvy baby as he weans himself off the gear. Then again, it’s Allen’s nature to not be a conventionally prideful Englishwoman, hence her okayness with showing some love for Scotland. That, and well, it’s a spot-on allusion, this notion of a bad relationship you’ve become addicted to being akin to coming down from a high like heroin and then deciding to quit cold turkey.
The usual modus operandi of Allen–contrasting an upbeat tune to tortured lyrics–is especially effective in the video, as the arguments escalate between her and her loved one (much less loved now) to the point where he’s on the ceiling and she’s down below, ultimately leading to her standing or lying all alone in the toilet water rain.
And though she might finally be all alone in the room without the presence of another negative force to make her feel even worse about the situation, still Allen is “stuck in a rut, kicking stones/Looking at my phone all night.” It’s definitely evocative of junkie vibes as she further adds, “Maybe I’ve lost my mind/When I couldn’t breathe/Couldn’t sleep/And you say it served me right/Maybe I’ve lost my mind.”
A TV in the background with the requisite white static adds to the feeling of trappedness and insanity as Allen ambles with uncertainty throughout the walls of the room accusing, “You wouldn’t give me closure/Let me get off the ride/And now I’m getting closer/To the other side.” That other side, of course, being freedom from the oppression of a stifling dynamic–the freedom of which Allen could only procure the hard way: through the passage of time, endured with emotional agony and all. So yes, why bother with heroin when you could just go through the travails of a doomed marriage?
