Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘GUTS’ is an edgy soundtrack to the trials of girlhood

Kofi Mframa, Opinions Editor

For the past two years, singer Olivia Rodrigo has soundtracked the lives of many teenage girls. Her debut single “drivers license” catapulted her to the apex of popular culture as she chronicled a past heartbreak. On her debut album “SOUR,” the stories of failed romance and teenage anguish continued.

Now, with her most recent project “GUTS,” it seems as though the melancholy of its predecessor has morphed into cynical agitation as she ebbs and flows through exhaustive heartbreaks and girlhood’s canon discomforts with a glittery-rock edge.

She begins the record by satirizing the impossible standards that young girls are held to on “all-american bitch.” She’s “light as a feather and stiff as a board,” she’s aware of her place and acts accordingly, she’s desirable even at her lowest and most importantly she’s eternally grateful.

This song, like many on the record, would fit perfectly on the soundtrack of “10 Things I Hate About You” or any aughts-era rom-com for that matter. She sings with the gall of Avril Lavigne or Alanis Morissette.

She quickly forgoes any semblance of “class” and perfect decision making in the next song, “bad idea right?” which acted as the album’s second single. Over pounding drums, heavy guitar and an unapologetically 90s punk-rock flare, she chronicles the mental battle of ditching her friends to visit an old lover who beckons her presence. 

“Yes, I know that he’s my ex, / But can’t two people reconnect?” she poses as she grasps at straws to rationalize her decision. Her friends are probably wondering why they can no longer see her location or why she has yet to respond to their disappointing texts. “‘I only see him as a friend’ / The biggest lie I ever said,” she continues. Even she doesn’t buy her justifications. 

Evidently, love rarely comes easy for Rodrigo. 

Her confusion-plagued romantic endeavors continue on album highlight and certified banger, “get him back!” Here, she blurs the line between revenge and reconnection with a shitty past lover — proving the razor thin line separating love from hate. “I want sweet revenge and I want him again,” she chants on the song’s anthemic chorus. It doesn’t take a genius to realize this guy is no good, but questionable decision making always thickens the plot. 

“But I am my father’s daughter, so maybe I could fix him,” she sings with a rap-like cadence, tongue deeply in her cheek. Hopefully she takes after her therapist father. 

As with her previous work, the spirited rock antics are contrasted with piano-driven ballads.

One in particular, “making the bed,” finds her reckoning with the dissatisfaction she feels with her life — realizing, though, that it’s by her design. She pushes away from those close to her to have futile fun with her “fair-weather friends.” She laments the dehumanization her social status has brought her — she’s heartbreakingly cognizant of the serpents that follow glory. 

“They tell me that they love me like I’m some tourist attraction,” she sings over a heavy and hazy guitar, “I got the things I wanted, it’s just not what I imagined.”

It may seem quite somber but only darkness is visible when one pulls the covers over their head. 

Her self-reflection continues on “pretty isn’t pretty,” a forbearing confessional about her body-image struggles, bouts with disordered eating and a misogynistic society that forces her into restrictive and self-destructive behaviors. No matter where she goes or what she does, she’s shadowed by her insecurities.

“It’s on the posters on the wall, it’s in the shitty magazines / It’s in my phone, it’s in my head, it’s in the boys I bring to bed.”

The album only missteps when certain songs exist in a greenness that seems regressive for Rodrigo. Some attempts at introspection come off a bit contrived. “the grudge,” an intentional callback to “drivers license,” lacks the originality that makes other songs of her’s so emotionally impactful. The mathematical cliché on “logical,” a song expressing her confusion with a lover, feels out of place.

Thankfully she doesn’t fall into this often. On “lacy,” she confronts her affinity for another woman that borders jealousy and obsession.

Female adolescence is complicated — granted, I’m a 21-year-old man writing this so if I’m wrong please email me. Luckily for Rodrigo, her guitar and piano are seldom out of reach, allowing her to air out her grievances the way she knows best.

She narrates her hijinks and heartbreaks with spunky self-deprecation, and striking vulnerability when needed. Even when the world is falling down around her, she finds her way through it. Her life can’t be easy — at her age it rarely is — but at least she makes it interesting. 

Hell certainly hath no fury like the world of a 19-year-old girl.