Kate Nash is the girl who used Lily Allen to prop up her own MySpace success only to criticize comparisons of the two London singers as "lazy journalism." But why compare when you can contrast: If Lily Allen is the plainspoken wiseass chick all the guys love to hang around, Kate Nash is the plainspoken piano geek who simultaneously loves Lily Allen and is also a little bit jealous of her social prowess. Nash is coy and neurotic-- instead of tossing a deadbeat boyfriend and laughing at his tears, she can't help but wallow in a crumbling relationship. And, leading up to this LP, her rotating quartet of mostly humble, quiet MySpace tracks offered canny scenes of young love-- tiny romantic comedies that could affect even the snobbiest art-house connoisseur. Too bad, then, that Made of Bricks is a rushed, glossed-over misfire that almost trips over itself to hide the reasons why Nash became such a web phenom in the first place.

Instead of allowing Nash to simply clean-up the homey demos early fans knew and loved, many songs are completely made over in seemingly random styles that emphasize hot shit producer Paul Epworth's studio expertise more than Nash's natural warmth. "Birds", originally an acoustic guitar stunner about an inarticulate, bird-obsessed dude and his perplexed girlfriend, is remade as a faux-country farce that seeps away the song's naïve appeal with a novelty cowboy hat and a wink. "We Get On" is transformed from a crushingly self-conscious diary entry backed only by Nash's careful piano plinks into a goofy, roller-rink trifle that undermines the songwriter's nuanced heartbreak. Then there's the album's shameless filler; instead of allowing Nash the time to craft enough real-life pop songs to fill out an LP, the internet opportunists behind Made of Bricks try to cover-up obvious non-starters like "Play", "Dickhead", and "Shit Song" with knob-twirling nonsense and gratuitous instrumentation. Considering reckless moves like these, this debut full-length can be viewed as cautionary case of too many friends too soon.

After one listen to her UK hit "Foundations", it becomes obvious Kate Nash has a gift for communicating confusing romance with a keen eye for detail and scene-stealing turns of phrase. The single-- along with just-a-girl power-pop blast "Mouthwash" and sex-not-love big-beat bouncer "Pumpkin Soup"-- is one of the few Made of Bricks tracks that finds Nash's acutely enunciated words complimented with just the right amount of swirling sonic accoutrements. "My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation/ I know that I should let go but I can't," she sings. Made of Bricks too often tries to smooth over the emotional cracks, breaks and fissures that happen to be Kate Nash's distinguishing hallmark. Without them, she may as well be any other London newcomer in a bright dress and matching trainers.