Lola Young Tries to Rein in Some of Her Self-Destructiveness on “Not Like That Anymore”

While Lily Allen and Amy Winehouse might have once been the undisputed British queens of lyrical self-deprecation (and generally self-destructive behavior), there’s a new princess in (London) town ready to take the crown for a more elevated tier of royalty. And that’s, of course, Lola Young, who’s been on the up and up at an international level ever since “Messy” became a hit. Released as the lead single for her sophomore album, This Wasn’t Meant for You Anyway, Young’s brash, I-hate-myself-but-I-also-hate-you lyrics struck a chord in Britain and beyond. Though somewhat like Chappell Roan, Young’s early work from Intro, Renaissance, After Midnight (also, incidentally, the title of a Roan song) and My Mind Wanders and Sometimes Leaves Completely went largely unnoticed by anyone outside of the UK (and even many inside of it). 

And so, striking while the iron is now hot, Young is slated to release her third album (thus, already having more records in her discography than Winehouse was able to, and quickly gaining on Allen’s four-album output), I’m Only Fucking Myself. A name that emanates plenty of tongue-in-cheek, “so what’s the big deal?” energy. And, needless to say, the title has an obvious double meaning. One that radiates “positivity” and the other “negativity.” The positive being that masturbation is the best way to show self-love, and the negative being that self-hate often means you’re only fucking yourself (over) instead of those who perhaps deserve it more. 

Young aims to highlight the positive side in her trailer for the album, which is a clip of her blowing up a, what else, blow-up doll. The twist? Said doll is made in her own image—or at least the face is. And so, as she blows it up, the instrumental part of “Not Like That Anymore” plays in the background. For, although “One Thing” was the first single to be released from the album, “Not Like That Anymore” features the lyrics that are clearly most aligned with the record’s title and overarching theme. Which, naturally, centers on Young’s predilection for self-loathing and how she’s trying to shake that addiction, among others. 

This being why she kicks the track off with the verse, “I’m a dumb little addict so I’ve been tryna quit the snowflake/I guess life sucks dick but especially if you sniff it all away/I did some damage to my ex but, goddammit, I should have broke that prick’s face/My next man, yeah, he’s gotta be magic, abracadabra and I’m in space.” In the “official visualizer” for the song (which, like Sophie Ellis Bextor’s “Taste” visualizer, just comes across as a more no-frills music video), Young uses the full breadth of her facial expression potential to convey various contrary emotions while delivering these types of sentiments. Including the most important one of all, which arrives during the chorus, “And now I’m locked out, got nowhere to go/And my phone got stolen and my balance is low/But if I look on the bright side/At least I’m not fucking myself anymore, not anymore…/And so I’m fucking myself, but not like that anymore.” In other words, as mentioned, she’s only fucking herself in the masturbatory sense (whether using the doll or going more “analogue”) rather than treating herself in the worst ways, physically and psychologically. In fact, you might say that masturbation is the best way to treat oneself, especially as it helps establish the groundwork for self-love out of the bedroom as well. 

As for the backing music, it’s decidedly “Vampire Weekend-y” (think: a more slowed-down version of “A-Punk”), which further aligns Young with the mid-2000s era (thanks to her abovementioned Lily and Amy similarities), at least in terms of the influences she can’t help but reference…whether consciously or not. Co-produced by Solomonophonic, Manuka and Carter Lang (known for his work with SZA on Ctrl and SOS, hence SZA sharing a clip from the visualizer to her Instagram story), the Afro-punk meets “preppy” punk sound perfectly complements Young’s earnest vocals as she details her “new lease on life.” One that strives to be at least slightly less self-destructive. 

Granted, not that much less. As evidenced by her admission, “I was a sad little bitch but if I’m honest, shit, I’ve barely damn changed/I’ve just got a little bit older and a little bit closer to death’s gates, yeah.” So sure, a cynical, drink-and-drug-loving British bird can try her best to “change,” but, more often than not, it ain’t gonna happen. Certainly not in a “moved to L.A. and found spirituality” sort of way. Especially not when Young continues to admit to some of her setbacks in “changing for the better” by talk-singing, “I like a dopamine hit more than a fat kid loves cake [and perhaps not since 50 Cent in ‘21 Questions’ has someone dared to use that now probably ‘off-limits’ simile]/And I can’t say that I’m happy, yeah, but least now I’m heading the right way, not the highway.” 

Alas, the “right way” can often have some detours. Maybe even ones that occasionally lead back to “the snowflake.” However, once again “on the bright side” is Young being able to let go of a toxic fuckboy, boasting, “And I got a little kick out of declining your call/I guess that means I don’t need your dick at all/And so I’m fucking myself, but not like that anymore.” So, yes, progress indeed. Slowly but surely. And sometimes even unsurely. Depending on what’s being passed around at a party.