Lola Young seeks to shock. But the most unexpected fact about her third studio album I’m Only F**king Myself is how expansive and experimental it is. Released this week to online fanfare as Young’s best record yet, this project is visceral and brash, exploring all the dangerous ways we try to escape the boring or sad parts of our lives. Deeply personal in its core themes of drug abuse, sex addiction and gender dynamics, it’s as gloriously “messy” as Lola Young has always claimed to be.
Kicking off in earnest with the grungey ‘F**k Everyone’, Lola storms onto the scene surrounded by distorted guitar riffs and a jagged vocal sample. This introduction presents an image of Lola which she described to Apple Music as “confident, fun and free”, but under the veneer, it comes across as disturbingly dark, revealing her reliance on sex as a means of quick but ultimately insincere human connection. Genuine loneliness shudders at the song’s core, in the dirty imagery of Lola’s muddy, gored knees and public misbehaviours.
The follow-up ‘One Thing’ is equal parts silly and sultry. It celebrates the freedom of no-strings-attached sex by reversing gender roles and seeing Lola chase after a man for his body alone. It’s purposefully brash and callous, highlighting how we are so desensitised to the same approach when it comes to men singing about women. Young opts for a quirky, theatrical vocal delivery, flirting in the verses with cutesy slang. Sparkling synths contrast the filthiness of the narrative. Cleverly, the title hints to how the “one thing” in pop culture and modern society always boils down to sex, but this song is actually layered with more meaningful depictions of gender dynamics and what sharing your body can personally mean. The winding, listless outro which dabbles in psychedelic production hints at this depth, particularly inventive for the album’s lead commercial single.
The album has plenty of classic break-up anthems to offer, too, which face Lola’s difficult experiences in love unwaveringly. Beneath the light-hearted 2000s vibe of ‘Walk All Over You’, Lola dishes it out to a past lover who treated her poorly. On ‘SAD SOB STORY :)’, the slow, somber tune juxtaposes her angry, diaristic reveals about an ex’s actions.
Also having recently opened up about her struggles with ADHD and schizoaffective disorder, several songs across I’m Only F**king Myself tackle the often toxic avenues neurodivergents might follow to turn down the mental noise. ‘D£aler’ is a bittersweet mid-tempo track which compares abandoning drugs as a coping mechanism for mental grief to kissing an ex goodbye. The song’s hopeful tone contrasts its sad lyrical truths about Lola’s state of mind, making it an insightful album highlight.
Yet whilst songs like ‘d£aler’ promise things will be different, Lola still constantly reverts to her old patterns as the album’s title suggests. The tracklist flows together sonically, but Lola’s storytelling intentionally jumps all over the place, as true personal growth is never linear. For example, ‘Post Sex Clarity’ is a dreamy stadium rock song that sonically chases the short-term high of an audience tuning into the show. Its powerful, emotional chorus soon flourishes into a chaotic rock instrumental that cuts off as abruptly as a hook-up that suddenly means nothing after the climax. Then Lola is soon back to begging for “A little bit of something to take off the edge” on ‘CAN WE IGNORE IT? :(‘. This track is all about shoegazing guitars and dazed, unvarnished production. Its harsh melodies are reminiscent of artists like Willow and Hayley Williams, but Lola’s conversational delivery makes every moment undeniably hers.
Frequently throughout the record, Lola turns attention away from her heaviest moments with a wink and nudge, to unconvincingly remind us how little she cares. But she’s often at her best when she refuses to shy away from the intensity of her emotions. ‘Penny Out Of Nothing’ makes for an increasingly dark number where Young admits to manipulating others so that controlling them takes the pressure off her own issues. “I’ll make him think I’m okay when I’m not”, she belts out over a haunting bossa nova, until she collapses into a false laugh to once again try to pass the story off as a non-issue to the audience. Contrastingly, ‘SPIDERS’ is an instant standout precisely because Young refuses to shy away from the darkness. Her raw, guttural performance critiques how her identity as a woman is tied to serving her man.
She shrugs the pain off again on the opening line of late track ‘Not Like That Anymore’, passively declaring, “I’m a dumb little addict so I’ve been trying to quit the snowflake”. This song’s sunny indie-rock sound jumps to the resolution of changed behaviour before it’s clearly actually achieved. Its delightful post-chorus guitar riff feels sarcastic and sassy in its Britpop attitude. As Lola smiles, “I can’t say that I’m happy, yeah, but least now I’m heading the right way, not the highway”, the quintessential theme of pursuing recovery without the pressure of permanent change shines through. It’s sealed off by the closing number ‘Who fucking cares’, a completely stripped down acoustic demo recorded in one take. This untouched song acknowledges the impossibility of truly moving on from a troubled past, trying to be hopeful but also accepting sitting in the sadness.
I’m Only F**king Myself refuses to come to a conclusion of real change, existing in the space between, where the lows always come right after the highs. Every time Lola celebrates recovery, she follows it up with an admission of failure, and the cycle restarts. This album is an astoundingly emotional journey. It’s also well worth watching the accompanying music videos, most of which are one-take clips with minimal editing, where Lola performs in eerie white landscapes. She whirls between trembling with rage and disconnecting back to her fearless persona, giving every line even more edge and emotion on camera. Beneath the made-up, instantly recognisable persona, Lola Young is a beautifully raw and real person, seeking a way to express herself genuinely, as we all are. I’m Only F**king Myself is her greatest testament to finding the real inner self yet.
