You make me want to lala/ In the kitchen on the floor/ I'll be your French maid/ When I meet you at the door/ I'm like an alley cat/ Drink the milk up I want more/ You make me wanna scream.

Like, here!

The thing about pop careers that are ruled with a watchful eye by the parents, is that when said 19-year-old 'I'm not a pop star I'm a real angsty singer, damn you media categorisers! Look, I have brunette hair now and everything!' releases a track like this, my first thought is not about the music. No, my mind clicks immediately to Daddy dearest sitting in the studio saying "This song here, with my beloved baby daughter singing about being a sex-starved, cheap whore? Make it her third single!"

And so to dear Ashlee's new release, which actually takes all her previous singles, (as well as the collected work of Lilix, Katy Rose and Fefe Dobson) and then proceeds to leap around on them in the cool, dark-eyeliner-wearing, suburban-hipster fashion appropriate for attracting the requisite aspirational teen demographics. Which is my excessive way of saying it's really rather good. Post-SNL, I don't know if it's enough to redeem her credibility, but to be honest, I don't really care about that. Were we supposed to believe in the independent talents of Simpson Jr as a single-handed teen-angst rocker, tapping those alienated thoughts into her Livejournal night after night, longing for the day when she too could be a real singer and share her inner pain with the masses? Exactly.

The song is exuberant, irritatingly infectious, and aside from the jarring line where Ashlee swears that 'You can throw me like a boomerang/ I'll come back and beat you up', (which may be emphasizing the strength of her sentiment through the deviation from established rhyme scheme, but probably isn't), the lyrics are punchy enough. Certainly better than her sister prattling on about wearing nothing but T-shirts and still feeling that her surgically enhanced self is still the epitome of feminine beauty.

Obviously since a teenager can't be talking explicitly about sex (unless she's an ingenue Fiona Apple being all seductive in the 'Criminal' video), we have the "lala" refrain presented as a 'zig-a-zig-ah' for the twenty first century: evolution in metaphors before your very pop-loving eyes! The only disappointment, therefore, is the video; which stars not Ms Simpson dressed as a French harlot, writhing around on laminate flooring and some symbolic shots of pussycats, but instead some scenester teens hanging out. Yawn. I did but hope.

Bemoan the lack of maid outfits here