“Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.” In a movie based around a rat in Paris who yearns to cook, this line is both fitting and surprisingly perceptive. Remi, the protagonist of “Ratatouille,” has the natural talent of a world-renowned chef yet cannot feasibly succeed because, at the end of the day, he is a rodent. His human counterpart, Linguini, lacks Remi’s ability but has more of a chance in the culinary world because he is a man. So, in the face of this reality, they decide to combine their skill sets with Remi “controlling” Linguini, and only then do they both succeed in their respective goals. Linguini can afford a better apartment and meets the love of his life while Remi can finally relish in his passion and cook.
Remi’s journey highlights the fact it is one thing to be naturally skilled at something, but it is another to find a way to make that talent flourish. This is not just seen in films such as “Ratatouille,” but the tangible world of entertainment. For instance: a teenage girl from a small town writes songs in her bedroom, dreaming of a life filled with neon billboards and camera flashes. She has the voice and the ambition for the industry, but not the means to get from the densely populated rural pastures that surround her to the bustling cities plastered on her walls. That is, of course, until one day she performs either on the street or in a cafe, and the right person happens to walk by at the right time and is absolutely enchanted. As the film “La La Land” would say: “Someone in the crowd could take you where you wanna go if you’re the someone ready to be found.” They approach her with a business card, and the rest is history.
When one thinks of a popstar, an origin story similar to this might come to mind. Whether it be Brittany Spears, Christina Aguilera or more recently Chappell Roan, it is not that unusual for someone who starts out from “nothing” to grow into someone recognized for their everything. They became known for their songs, their outfits, their lyrics, their aesthetic; Chappell Roan is an excellent example of this with her usage of drag makeup. Her visuals are intentional and striking, creating a sight that is by all means arguably an outlier in this current new wave of pop artists.
Recent music trends have focused on what I would like to call the “relatable girl.” She is very specific and diaristic with her lyrics—it’s a Tuesday night, she’s listening to music and she’s listing all the reasons why her crush should be with her (“You Belong With Me”), she’s driving down the street of the quiet suburbs thinking of a past love (“drivers license”) or she’s silently fan-girling over a crush who does not even know she exists (“Close To You”). Artists like Taylor Swift, Gracie Abbrams, Olivia Rodrigo and Phoebe Bridgers are all excellent examples of this; their songs generally feel as if the listener is getting a glimpse into their world and how they view the people around them alongside details of the events they have lived through. Think of break ups, acoustic guitars and piano—it is produced to feel as if it is straight out of their diary and into one’s headphones.
Chappell Roan’s music, however, the majority of the time does not feel like this. Though there are personal admissions and emotions throughout her debut album “The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess” such as in “Picture You” and “Kaeledoscope,” it’s important in Roan’s case to separate the artist Chappell Roan from the woman Kayleigh Amstutz. When Taylor Swift steps on stage at the Eras Tour, she smiles and says: “Hi! I’m Taylor!” When Chappell Roan steps on stage, she says: “My name is Chappell Roan, and I’m your favorite artist’s favorite artist.” Swift markets herself as a girl next door who anyone could grab a coffee with. Roan markets herself as a shooting star; the audience is lucky to witness her before she slips from their grasp. She is not only their favorite artist, but the other singers they love adore her as well. She is, obviously, not marketed as a “relatable girl,” despite the fact that one might relate to her longing in “Casual” or her anger in “My Kink Is Karma.”
The same can be said for recent mega-star Sabrina Carpenter. With the release of her latest album “Short n’ Sweet,” Carpenter has grown from the sultry, funny yet personal woman who wrote “emails i can’t send” to, again, not just Sabrina. While she does not have a stage name like Roan, as of recently she has deviated from the “relatable girl” and played into a larger-than-life character. She goes on stage and sings silly and sarcastic lyrics like “A boy who’s nice that breathes, I swear he’s nowhere to be seen” in “Slim Pickens” and “That’s that me-espresso” in “Espresso.” The listener is not meant to take these lyrics truly seriously but instead just giggle and sing along–simply put, it is not that serious. And honestly, I find this refreshing. All art does not have to have an extensive meaning behind it to be “good” art, similar to the fact that, sure, the lyrics of Carpenter’s “Juno” are not emotionally life changing, but in my opinion it is still a great song. And yes, “Short n’ Sweet” does have its passionate moments on “Lie To Girls,” “Dumb & Poetic” and “Don’t Smile,” but even these songs I would argue are still not in “relatable girl” territory. They are slow yet have an edge, are playful and overall have contributed to the evolution of who Sabrina Carpenter is as an artist. Because two years ago when “emails i can’t send” was released Carpenter had a steady fanbase but was not near as mainstream as she is today following her playing into this Barbie-like borderline ridiculous personality. She has found, similar to Chappell and Remi, the formula that works for her to succeed.
While pop culture trends can be unpredictable, I hope that more artists follow in Roan and Carpenter’s footsteps to make music that is simply fun. In the sea of introspective and confessional song writing, it is beyond refreshing.
