Lolahol Seeks to Take Up the Mantle of Madonna’s “Weird Art Kid” Persona on Go EP

Inching her way ever forward into the spotlight, Lolahol, which media outlets are certain to remind is “Madonna’s daughter” (just in case the music itself isn’t enough), has released a five-track EP on the heels of her debut solo single, “Lock&Key.” The latter obviously appears on the album, called Go. A title, in fact, that feels apropos considering the 90s-oriented sound of it all tying into that iconic, yet still-too-underrated 1999 rave movie. Except that, rather than providing a dance-y, ntsss ntsss ntssss vibe, Lolahol is more “classic trip hop,” as it is pretentiously billed.

And, talking of pretension, even the cover itself offers some of that in terms of its blatant “homage” to Marilyn Minter’s work (recently featured in Madonna’s stage backdrops during her performance at Terminal 5 for Pride). This image, however, was shot by the elusive indiana420bitch (who has, of late, been responsible for Kim Kardashian’s “scum aesthetic” photos). Yet, despite the patent derivativeness, it gives us some kind of glimpse into what to expect sonically. Lips pressed against glass and smeared, glittery bluish-purple eye makeup being visually tantamount to what we hear as the EP opens on the faux provocatively-titled “Cuntradiction” (for which Lolahol has also created a video with very familiar aesthetics). Her initially trilling, high-pitched vocals give way to a general languor that remains for the rest of the album. In fact, if Lolahol’s overall sound could be described in one word it would be: languor.

Touching on familiar themes of toxic and inequitable love that her own mother has addressed in many a song (particularly “Frozen”), Lolahol accuses, “I am nothing in your eyes/‘Til you don’t have me by your side.” Maybe that’s why she’s inclined to confess, “I want a version of you, not the whole thing”—her own so-called partner likely feeling the same way. Indeed, that’s how most people feel in the present epoch, with social media being a key contributor to why so many expect a “version” of someone, as though they’re a two-dimensional being. This being essentially what we’ve all been reduced to with our various “platforms” on which to present ourselves. Or rather, the “best” version of ourselves. Something Lolahol a.k.a. Lourdes herself is wont to project as well, thanks to the arsenal of resources at her disposal. Including NYC favorite Eartheater, who executive produced the album via her Chemical X imprint… though one wonders if, in another time and place, Lolahol might have been a Maverick artist.

And, talking (yet again) of Madonna-related things, after the Madame X Tour was released, one fan pointed out, “I get it now. Madonna’s a weird art kid.” Art and its correlating “weirdness” being an aspect of life that she’s consistently imparted to her own children, adopted or otherwise. That much is clear in what Lourdes’ approach has been to most of her “career”—primarily modeling up until this point. All while playing into that fashionable (no pun intended) idea that a model should be more than just a body—she needs to be a unique “personality.” A “performance artist,” of sorts.

As an unapologetic art bitch, Madonna also undeniably imparted a love of James Baldwin onto her kids, hence the title of the second track on Go, “Giovanni’s Room.” With an ambient yet industrial sound, Lolahol paints the picture, “He locked the door behind him…/we simply stared at each other.” The uneventful nature of life in the twenty-first century, characterized primarily by being in rooms (thanks to the internet) and other “non-places,” is thusly captured in this sentence—perhaps giving Billie Eilish a run for her Gen Z money. And yes, both Billie and Lolahol seem to relish offering up ersatz Gen X themes of disaffection from their Gen Z bodies.

A generation that, through Lolahol, admits, “I was trembling/I am lost.” In other uneventful news, Lolahol further delineates, “He pulled me against him/Pulled myself into his arms as I gave him me (or is it weed?) to carry.” And, in contrast to what we were told by Madonna in the 00s about her children’s upbringing, Lolahol describes, “Spend my days watching the TV screen/My mom says I look lost.” Maybe that’s why Lola finally decided to “get some direction” as a singer, since modeling as a profession expires far sooner. And obviously, Madonna won’t stand for anything other than “excellence” in her products a.k.a. children, they being just another reflection of herself.

And Lola reflects M quite well, candor-wise, on “Not Pussy” when she commences, “I don’t give a fuck about you/It’s your choice, I’m not gonna make the first move.” At the same time, the Madonna we’ve come to know would never play into such gender-specific limitations. Regardless of being a woman, she always made the first move if it suited her whims or purposes. Especially in the pre-fame New York days, when she would home in on the men (and women) she thought might be useful to her career (an element of her ambitious personality that Weird Al decided to hyper-caricaturize in Weird). Lolahol, in contrast, had a built-in career from day one of being born out of Madonna’s pussy. So she can’t tell anyone that “Not Pussy” has to do with her success, for it absolutely does.

Maybe that’s why she has no shame in declaring, “I’m lazy.” An admission that could very well be part of her warning, “You want me/You know I’m no good for you”—this being a lyric that smacks of Amy Winehouse (“I told you I was trouble/You know I’m no good”) and Lana Del Rey (“We both know/That it’s not fashionable to love me”). She finally delves more fully into the “WAP”-oriented titled by chanting, “Pussy, pussy, pussy,” then suggestively adding, “Jump in, jump out of my…” She subsequently throws a curveball by saying, “…spirit” in lieu of the expected “pussy,” then randomly incorporates the flex, “Every dream I have is lucid.” The sonic tone of the song, like most of them, once more mirrors a sound that can best be categorized as Unreleased Ray of Light Demos, which makes sense considering Lola’s predilection for 90s styles and rhythms. Continuing to goad the boy in question, Lolahol demands, “Are you in or are you not/Pussy, pussy, pussy.” This sentence structure becoming an overt play on words with regard to the pursuer himself being a pussy for waffling in his so-called pursuit.

The following song, “Purple Apple,” is slightly more slowed down (though all of the songs manage to come off that way when delivered in Lolahol’s manner) and also veers toward sounding like it could be on the Stranger Things Soundtrack. The track is somewhat alluded to in the video for “Cuntradiction,” when the overwrought image of biting viscerally and seductively into an apple is wielded by Lolahol (as if Lana Del Rey didn’t already do that recently enough in the short film, Tropico).

The demanding side Lola must get from her mother shines through as she orders, “Roll me a spliff”—this weed imagery relating to the song’s name, for, in addition to a “purple apple” referring to a girl giving a bite on a guy’s Adam’s apple while she grabs his balls, it’s also worth noting that one can smoke out of an apple as well. And while Lolahol smokes her blunt (a habit she seemed to inspire M with), she likely thinks of the person she’s wasting time on as she announces, “I’m takin’ all the risks/And you’re not doin’ shit.” Of course, all celebrity children think they’re taking a risk when it comes to inviting an outsider into “their world.” That’s likely part of why Lola offers the telling lines, “Melt me down/Lay me down/I’m your fruit/Feed off me/Spit me out/Leave me.”

But Lolahol is the one to leave us with the conclusion of Go, “Lock&Key,” which almost seems like the weakest of her “oeuvre” now that we’ve heard “more of it” (read: a mere four additional songs). Plus, it has the backstabbing element of quoting from a Lady Gaga interview via the chorus, “No sleep, next plane, no sleep, make up, next club, next car, next plane, no sleep, no fear.”

Evidently, however, Lourdes Leon must have some fear if she feels obliged to perform under a “conceptual” stage name. One with the same manufactured attempt at “being real and raw” as the songs themselves, with their overarching inauthenticity. Though clearly wanting to reveal “who she is” to listeners, the generic and recycled content of it all makes it difficult for her to stand apart, least of all from her mother’s towering shadow. At the same time, M herself was once given a similar critique re: superficiality for her early work… not that “Lolahol” will ever be capable of “falling out of the industry” in the same way that Madonna once was at the start of her own musical journey.