‘GUTS’: Olivia Rodrigo’s Unfiltered Statement Album on Girlhood and Growing Pains
Spilling my guts about the singer-songwriter’s bold sophomore effort…
Few pop stars have experienced a meteoric rise in popularity like Olivia Rodrigo did when she burst onto the scene with “drivers license” in January 2021. Overnight success stories like Rodrigo’s are few and far between, and following the triumphant performance of her debut album SOUR, expectations for her sophomore album soared.
But if there’s one thing as destined as fame, it’s the scrutiny that follows. Rodrigo is acutely aware of this reality: “I was dealing with a lot of noise in my head about whether it was going to be good enough or whether I could ever top what I did on SOUR,” she confesses. Instead of hastily churning out new music, Rodrigo took a year-long break after the SOUR Tour. “I really had to try to block out the noise and just focus on the craft of songwriting,” Rodrigo adds.
Two years after SOUR took the world by storm, Rodrigo’s highly anticipated sophomore album GUTS is finally upon us. On first listen, GUTS unfolds as a familiar extension of SOUR, though this familiarity shouldn’t be mistaken for triteness, but Rodrigo successfully establishing an identifiable artistic brand. In many ways, GUTS could be considered the sister album to SOUR: it’s still purple, but darker and more cynical.
For every aspect SOUR excelled in, GUTS is sure to crank those achievements up a notch. This is evident right from the get go with “all-american bitch,” a statement-making opener where Rodrigo grapples with the all-consuming expectations placed on young women.
“I know my age and I act like it,” Rodrigo declares in the roaring chorus, perhaps a nod at naysayers who harp endlessly on her supposed immaturity. What’s a teenager supposed to sing about anyway? “I’m the eternal optimist,” she sings next, but with a sarcastic sneer. This is a girl who is disgruntled and has something to say.
Rodrigo isn’t afraid to poke fun at herself — from rekindling with an ex in “bad idea right?” to struggles with socializing in “ballad of a homeschooled girl”, she is committed to turn her embarrassment into fun. The former is arguably the most experimental track on GUTS, where Rodrigo leans into a 90s punk sound.
“I just tripped and fell into his bed,” she playfully blurts out like a confession at a slumber party with her girlfriends. While the song’s scratchy guitars and monotone delivery may repel the mainstream listener, its riot grrrl–influenced sound will catch the attention of punk heads instead.
The record seems to be conceived with touring in mind; after all the GUTS World Tour is already facing astronomical demand, prompting Ticketmaster to impose a 72-hour ticket delivery window to suppress scalpers. Fist-pumping anthems like “get him back!” and “love is embarrassing” will get crowds stomping their feet in unison, while lead single “vampire” is sure to deliver a rousing sing-along moment.
“I want to get him back,” Rodrigo proclaims in her latest GUTS single. The song’s central premise hinges on the title’s clever dual meaning — wanting someone back, but also punishing them for their wrongdoing. The result is a cheeky anthem of playful back-and-forth, particularly in the song’s infectious bridge that has already gone viral on TikTok.
The uninhibited roars of GUTS dissolve into whimpers when its ballads take centerstage. The more mellow songs like “lacy” and “logical” will appeal to fans of SOUR for its confessional songwriting, but sonically, they’re mostly familiar ground already treaded on.
Meanwhile, “the grudge” delivers one her most stinging blows yet: “You have everything and you still want more,” she cries. Yet, it’s hard to shake how sonically derivative the song is from “drivers license”, from the door chime–like pauses to the cascading melodies.
This dichotomy of loud and soft, charged and stripped, rebellious and reserved, has been explored in SOUR. But when Rodrigo pulls both ends to the extreme in GUTS, it creates a chaotic whiplash that showcases her versatility, but also undercuts the album’s cohesiveness in the process.
Perhaps the shining exception is the album closer “teenage dream”, a vulnerable piano ballad that spirals into a whirlwind of charged catharsis in its final minute. In a full circle moment, the artist that once asked “Where’s my fucking teenage dream?” has now left that angst behind, knowing that she’s “sorry that [she] couldn’t always be your teenage dream”.
It’s a harrowing kind of disillusionment that rings true for many as we grow up, realizing that time will keep running even when we can’t. This callback to SOUR truly ties Rodrigo’s teenage experience together, with “brutal” and “teenage dream” serving as bookends of a two-part musical journey.
“They all say that it gets better, but what if I don’t?” Rodrigo questions as she bulldozes through the song’s impassioned bridge. As the song winds down, we hear an infant laughing — it’s producer Dan Nigro’s baby — ending the song with a soothing respite. The album rests on this open-ended ending without giving any answers. Rodrigo doesn’t have any, but she learns to settle in a zone of not knowing, and it takes a whole lot of guts to admit that.
