What follows is a breakup album for the ages, in which the spectacular, near operatic demise of the marriage is laid out like a spatchcocked chicken. All the gritty bits are there: messages with her husband’s mistress, the discovery of a cache of sex toys, a near relapse, and an anxiety spiral. In what is probably the album’s catchiest song, “Pussy Palace,” Allen sings about finding a Duane Reade bag filled with butt plugs and lube in an apartment she had believed, however inexplicably, was some kind of dojo. (“Hundreds of Trojans, you’re so fucking broken / How’d I get caught up in your double life?”) There’s a pop-y, faux-upbeat song about her failed attempts to date after the relationship begins to unravel, under the pseudonym Dallas Major. “My name is Dallas Major and I’m coming out to play / Looking for someone to have fun with while my husband walks away,” she sings, with brittle determination. “I’m almost nearly forty, I’m just shy of five-foot-two / I’m a mum to teen-age children, does that sound like fun to you? / Cause I hate it here / I hate it here.”journey-inline-newsletterinline-newsletter