- With just two songs under her belt,
Olivia Rodrigo has already proven to be a world-class songwriter. - But interviewers insist on asking Rodrigo about her love for
Taylor Swift instead of her ownmusic . - This pattern reflects a long, fraught, and tired history of comparing female artists.
Regé-Jean Page tried to warn us.
There's an entire "Saturday Night Live" skit about the sheer brilliance of "Drivers License," Olivia Rodrigo's record-breaking debut single - and Taylor Swift's name is mentioned no less than six times.
Throughout the four-minute scene, Pete Davidson's character insists that Rodrigo's song draws its power from Swift's influence, asking Page at one point, "I still feel it's Taylor, you got a problem?"
"With you being purposefully reductive? Yeah, I got a problem," Page retorts.
I imagine this is how my conversations might go with my fellow music reporters - not to mention radio personalities and hosts - who have interviewed Rodrigo this year.
Since the release of "Drivers License" in January, Rodrigo has broken streaming records and dominated the Billboard Hot 100. The story of her rise has been heralded by
I wholeheartedly agree with that assessment. I have been listening to both "Drivers License" and "Deja Vu," her sophomore single, on loop.
But it's precisely why the coverage of Rodrigo's ascent has often come across as reductive and unfair.
The common thread in Rodrigo's interviews is unavoidable: Everyone loves asking her about Swift, whom Rodrigo has cited as her heroine and lyrical paragon.
I get it. Asking up-and-coming
In this case, however, the constant presence of Swift in Rodrigo's interviews is perplexing. There's far more to Rodrigo than her heroes. More troublingly still, the association is yet another example in a long and tired history of comparing female artists.
To say Rodrigo's respect for Swift is well-documented at this point is an understatement
The 18-year-old has figured out every possible way to say the same thing: Swift is her "all-time idol." Swift is her "songwriting idol." She's "the best storyteller of our generation." She's "the greatest of all time." It's "the biggest honor in the whole world" to have her blessing. It's "insane." It "means the world." Rodrigo is "so lucky to have her as a mentor." Swift is "unreal." She's "an absolute genius." She's "immortal."
This is not to discount the new artist's passion and eagerness to praise the woman who inspires her. Rodrigo can and should blast "Fearless" songs, wear the "Red" ring, and talk about Swift as much as she wants.
But the excessive attention paid to Swift by Rodrigo's interviewers is impossible to miss. During a recent chat with Apple Music's Zane Lowe, Rodrigo brought up Swift while discussing her creative inspirations, but moved on fairly quickly. She went on to praise Kacey Musgraves, Tanya Tucker, and Carole King.
Less than three minutes later, Lowe circled back to Swift.
With two top-10 hits and a full album on the way, Rodrigo has plenty to talk about. She is a world-class songwriter, a remarkable vocal talent, and a budding superstar in her own right.
She is so much more than a girl who loves Taylor Swift, and deserves to be treated as such.
-h0emimi (@h0emimi) April 21, 2021
The success of younger female musicians is often measured against older female musicians
There is a clear precedent for the Rodrigo-Swift phenomenon.
As "Saturday Night Live" demonstrated, when it comes to women in music, the cultural instinct is comparison. Another character in the skit said "Drivers License" gave him "Billie Eilish vibes." Following the song's overnight success, plenty of critics compared Rodrigo to Lorde.
These comparisons aren't necessarily wrong. "Drivers License" certainly does recall Lorde's "Green Light," and the bridge of "Deja Vu" was partially inspired by Swift's "Cruel Summer."
Moreover, for writers, it may feel natural to articulate a newer artist's sound by evoking an existing, already-beloved discography. I'm guilty of this myself.
But this phenomenon, or impulse, or whatever you want to call it, is one-sided.
Chloe x Halle are repeatedly asked to explain how they're trying to emulate Beyoncé. Normani has also been dubbed "the next Beyoncé." In a now-infamous review, the New York Times declared that Beyoncé, fresh off the release of her first solo album, was "no Ashanti." Ariana Grande was labeled "the next Mariah Carey." Lady Gaga was christened "the new Madonna." ("No, I'm the next Iron Maiden," she would reply.)
"I even had some horrible old radio presenter here being like, 'Oh, she's like a knockoff Lorde or something,'" breakout indie-pop singer BENEE told Insider back in November, after the runaway success of her single "Supalonely." "I was just like, 'Shut up.'"
As BENEE pointed out, the same is rarely experienced by her male peers.
"Maybe some of the dudes are all writing about the same bloody thing: b----es and drinking, straight up," she said. "Which I have no problem with, and I listen to a lot of that kind of stuff. But I do think about that [double standard]. It's kind of sad."
I've never seen Kevin Abstract described as "the next Frank Ocean" because they both write stirring songs about queer yearning. I've never seen Finneas O'Connell draw comparisons to Kevin Parker, who's arguably the modern blueprint for a self-sufficient singer-songwriter-producer. (True, I once saw O'Connell's solo music compared to Ed Sheeran, but that just feels wrong on a lot of levels.)
We see this discrepancy clearly in hip-hop, where women are constantly pitted against each other. As Complex's Kiana Fitzgerald wrote in 2018, there's a narrative that only one female rapper can be on top, while plenty of men are free to populate the genre.
Nicki Minaj herself has noticed: "They don't do this to male M.C.'s," she once tweeted, referring to constant rumors that she's resentful of Cardi B's success.
Across, in between, and outside of the gender binary, artists are writing vivid, genre-bending, and wholly unique songs. But these types of comparisons disproportionately afflict young female artists.
Rodrigo writes like Swift in the sense that they're both unguarded and specific, perhaps feeling everything more intensely than the rest of us. They both expose their beating hearts for consumption.
The aptitude is similar. The execution really isn't. Rodrigo adjusts her vocals to match her emotional narrative, giving her music a more theatrical and visceral delivery - while Swift, of course, has more technical finesse with storytelling and structure. If Rodrigo's lyrics are frantic diary entries, Swift's are meticulous mini-novels.
And yet Rodrigo can't escape the Swift mentions. Her best interviews, on the other hand, have mentioned Swift in passing, but remained focused on Rodrigo's textured creative process.
As we approach the May 21 release date of her debut album "Sour," I implore interviewers and Reddit users alike to see Rodrigo as her own artist, rather than how she relates to artists people already love.
I'm anxious to learn more about Olivia Rodrigo: The Artist rather than Olivia Rodrigo: The Swiftie, and to better understand the ethos of a green artistic genius.
How did she get away with two major curse words in her debut song as a Disney star? What was it like recording the melody shifts in that tortured "Drivers License" finale? Does she actually know how to play "Uptown Girl" on the piano? Is "unique" a winking insult, or did it just offer a nice rhyme?
Most importantly, why did she decide to give "Glee" such a prominent name-drop if she's never even seen the show?
Enquiring, music-loving, slightly obsessive minds want to know.