Olivia Rodrigo: you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love

Reinvention is the lifeblood of pop music. As the great wave of Millennial poptimism recedes, it’s instructive to note that artists who change as they grow are received much more readily now than those who continue to do the same thing to lesser results. Billie Eilish changes subtly with every album and is thought of as one of the greats of the era. Taylor Swift has settled into an arrogant similarity, and her critical reception has dropped off a cliff. On you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, Olivia Rodrigo shows that striking the balance between familiarity and growth is the surest bet for pop gold in the modern age. She embraces maturity (and the art of a good concept), and it drives her third album into a new, more powerful phase of her career. Emerging as a Disney teen star, from the surprisingly good series High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, Rodrigo did what most breakout child stars do eventually and turned her hand to music. Like her contemporaries Ariana Grande and Sabrina Carpenter, she achieved what felt like overnight success with her first single, “Drivers License.” That song, and most of her debut album Sour, was well-constructed and hooky radio pop, but it was overtly callow in places – teen pop, not necessarily much more. 2023’s Guts was a little better (she was a little older) and more considered in the pursuit of its musical choices, including folk and ‘90s-tinged alternative rock. you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love continues this trend but brings her squarely into adulthood, presenting a version of her music that explores a newfound sense of artistry while remaining recognizably and authentically her own. First, it’s a concept album. The beginning of the album charts the dizzy rush and intoxicating sense of danger that comes from a new relationship. “drop dead” brings us in right on the first date; by “honeybee” the protagonist is ruminating on the terror of loving someone. There is the recognition that being codependent in the grip of a strong infatuation can render you brainless (“maggots for brains”) and the toxic jealousy that can result when you think someone else is trying to move in on your boyfriend (“my way”). On the second half of the record, the protagonist realizes that subsuming herself to a man isn’t fixing any of the problems she thought it would and that love isn’t love if you have to beg the other person for it. She pulls away, tells herself that next time she needs to set better standards for the people she brings into her life, and finally only thinks of their former partner in terms of lingering regrets. While all of this is happening, Rodrigo and her longtime producer, Dan Nigro, strike a careful balance between the familiar and the exploratory. There are the piano ballads that we’ve come to expect from Rodrigo’s work, tracks like “stupid song” and “honeybee” that mine familiar veins of structure: close and intimate, that eventually build into something more expansive near the end. “less” is the pinnacle of these, partly because the production is scaled back to just Rodrigo and the keys. A line like “If loving me means crying on the curb at LAX/ Well then I guess/ I wish you loved me less” might have paled against the kind of swelling strings and carefully sculpted atmosphere that makes “stupid song” effective. With just the piano, her voice and the room, though, it ends up feeling stark and harrowing, the kind of thing that would haunt you walking home in the rain. There are further touches of ‘90s alt music, including the jaunty acoustic guitars on “u + me = <3” and the strummed main riff of “the cure,” which feels like an interpolation of “Everlong.” The hard-edged synth and rocksteady bass of “my way” pushes this into Y2K No Doubt territory. Mostly, though, she leans into New Wave influences; like many artists, she looks back into the ‘80s to point the way forward. Part of the fun of listening to you seem pretty sad is playing spot the influence. Is that New Order spiritually smiling upon “maggots for brains?” Does the line “Melt with you ‘til it all turns black” on “purple” allude to Modern English? There are also a number of Cure references throughout. She mentions her date knowing all the words to “Just Like Heaven” on “drop dead,” the chorus of “u + me = <3” sounds like it could have started life as a thought on Wish and Robert Smith himself appears as a duet on “what’s wrong with me.” Ironically, “the cure” contains no Cure references at all. Meanwhile, that’s definitely A (beefier) Flock of Seagulls powering “expectations” with fey muscularity. The big synth sounds combined with the general early-’80s New Wave vibe are a perfect fit for what Rodrigo is going for. What better way to present a mantra about respecting yourself and setting standards for your relationships than by backing it with some mutated post-disco? Sharks and pop stars must keep moving to stay alive. Stagnation is boring, and the audience for pop music is notoriously fidgety. Lizzo and Meghan Trainor have recently found out that staying still means drowning. Taylor Swift has stopped growing as an artist but has managed to cultivate an audience large enough to insulate her from death, at least for a time. Olivia Rodrigo has an impressive enough audience for a young artist, but not large enough that she can coast on her achievements thus far. So, there’s nothing to do but get to work, and you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love gets it done. It’s a mix of ‘90s alt moments, New Wave influences and her signature piano work that make for an undeniable set of songs. Olivia Rodrigo is expanding her music to incorporate more cohesive storytelling and, in doing so, is marking herself as someone taking the artistic side of her job seriously. The banger-making side of her music is, blessedly, intact.