Allie X Reveals Satirical Pop With Legs on Girl With No Face
The Canadian singer, songwriter and visual artist’s immaculate production upgrades many tracks from great to golden on her first self-produced record.

When an album rollout commences with a beat that’s eerily reminiscent of “Blue Monday,” it’s a harbinger of either a banger or an unimaginative bust. And Allie X already demanded “off with her tits,” so there goes the latter outcome. That rhythm, a muscular new wave powerhouse fueling lead single “Black Eye,” is the heartbeat of the pop artist’s new record Girl With No Face, a decidedly corporal body of work and, perhaps, her finest yet. As Allie X (born Alexandra Hughes) coyly dons various masks for the record’s artwork and social media teases, she delivers a record shaped by every aspect of her multi-pronged skillset—from borderline operatic vocals to synthed-up songcraft.
Girl With No Face marks Hughes’ first self-produced record, a feat that displays intimate bursts of brilliance from the woman obscured by papier-mâché. The caustic wit that intensifies Hughes’ lyricism is as present and biting as ever—but time and time again, it’s her immaculate production that upgrades tracks from Girl With No Face from great to golden. “Oh, the light shines through the linen,” she observes to kickstart the album, linking first track “Weird World” to “Fresh Laundry,” the opener of her 2020 record Cape God.
But where “Fresh Laundry” found her yearning for pristine sheets, delicate jewelry and nice parties, on “Weird World” Hughes admits that she’s since dropped dreaming like a futile hobby. “I used to be a dream girl / But the world interfered / At least now I know why / Now I know why / Now I know I’m weird,” she confesses over a sweat-drenched 80s workout beat without a morsel of mourning. From there—as if to say “I warned you”—Hughes brandishes anatomical imagery throughout the record, offering the antithesis of the body parts society practically begs women to reveal: bruised eyes, flat chests and insincere smiles. Leading the trilogy is “Off With Her Tits,” a camp-driven narrative that suggests casting off the male gaze with cosmetic surgery. “Stop the ridicule,” Allie X deadpans repeatedly, as the song’s fictional protagonist withdraws “10K in cash” to snip off her pair of assets. Hughes delivers the tale with a wink, but no amount of cheekiness can alter its inherently tragic core: The desire to forfeit a chunk of your body because leering strangers can’t control theirs.