Sour Part Deux: Guts Builds On Olivia Rodrigo’s Favorite Subjects (Fuckboys, Lost Causes and Aesthetic Insecurities)

When the album artwork for Guts was first released, many were quick to call out the similarities to the color palette and overall “vibe” it shared with Sour. Perhaps this was a more deliberate choice than people realized, what with Olivia Rodrigo herself calling the music of Guts a “natural progression” from the work we heard on Sour. To be sure, it does often feel more like a continuation of Sour than a completely separate entity. Sort of like what happened when Lana Del Rey released the Paradise EP the same year as Born to Die and then created a Paradise Edition of the latter album with all the same tracks from the former tacked on at the end. But twelve songs is too much to do that so here we are with Guts as the “full-on” sophomore record. 

Talking of Lana Del Rey, it’s evident that Rodrigo spending a bit of time with her earlier this year has had an effect. Even if she wrote a song like “all-american bitch”—a title that smacks of something out of the LDR songbook—before that little Billboard Women in Music moment they shared together. With tinges of the same intonation that was present on “enough for you,” the kickoff to Guts starts out “sweetly” enough… and then, of course, bursts into an upbeat expression of rage that drips with sarcasm as she evokes images of Americana that include, “Coca-Cola bottles that I only use to curl my hair [how Lady Gaga in the “Telephone” video]/I got class and integrity just like a goddamn Kennedy, I swear/With love to spare.” While Del Rey might be notoriously Team Pepsi (thanks to asserting, “My pussy tastes like Pepsi Cola), it’s no secret that she’s had her own Kennedy fetish when it comes to describing America and its state of constant underlying decay (see: the “National Anthem” video). Although the song (or at least its title) was inspired, technically, by Joan Didion’s short story, “Slouching Towards Bethlehem,” the overtones of Del Rey are everywhere.

For the coup de grâce of Del Rey emulation, Rodrigo finishes the song by sardonically mentioning, “I’m pretty when I cry.” This being just one in a series of ways that Rodrigo mocks the enduring expectation that women should live up to impossible dichotomies in their “persona.” Hence, an analogy like, “And I am built like a mother and a total machine.” And then, of course, “I am light as a feather and stiff as a board.” An inconceivable combination that only levitating—ergo, witchcraft—can conjure. And we all know how men feel about witches (hint: they like to burn them). This appearing to be the obvious reason for why Rodrigo would make a reference to The Craft (hopefully the original, and not the one of “her generation”).

In another part of the song, Rodrigo insists, “Oh, all the time, I’m grateful all the time (all the fucking time).” While such assurances are theoretically dripping with venom, Rodrigo does mention frequently that she’s so grateful for being able to do what she does. In fact, on the release day of Guts, she posted a handwritten letter stating, “…I feel so grateful. I feel grateful for everyone on my team who believes in me & supports me so unwaveringly.” Even before that, Rodrigo’s mention of gratitude came up in time for the album’s promotion cycle during “73 Questions with Vogue.” When asked by the interviewer, “What values do you hope you’ll still hold on to when you’re thirty-five years old?” she replied, “I hope I still have my gratitude.” Even if that gratitude is occasionally filled with the resentment apparent on “all-american bitch.”

Proving that there’s a certain schizophrenia to the way women both despise and yet also cling to men, Rodrigo presents the contrasting sentiments of “bad idea right?” as the song after “all-american bitch.” A self-loathing anthem for any girl who has ever gone over to an ex’s (whether of the “serious” or mere “situationship” variety) in the middle of the night thanks to alcohol’s diabolical influence, its pop-punk sound feels plucked directly from an 00s teen movie. This is punctuated by the Petra Collins-directed video that mostly takes place at a house party before Rodrigo foolishly decides to leave on her quest for toxic dick despite claims of, “Yes, I know that he’s my ex/But can’t two people reconnect?/I only see him as a friend” and then quickly admitting, “The biggest lie I ever said.” Though some would argue that the biggest lie she ever said is that “vampire” is not about Taylor Swift. Except, she didn’t say it flat-out, instead dancing around a total “no” with, “I was very surprised when people thought that. I mean, I never want to say who any of my songs are about. I’ve never done that before in my career and probably won’t. I think it’s better to not pigeonhole a song to being about this one thing.” Swift might have once been the same, but eventually, she revealed who “Bad Blood” was about, didn’t she?

In any case, if “all-american bitch” is a sonic parallel to “enough for you,” then “vampire” is Guts’ parallel to Sour’s “drivers license.” A lush, effusive ballad that also reaches a crescendo of emotionalism toward the middle, whoever the track is “really” about, it’s certain they might be rethinking their vampiric tendencies after hearing it (though probably not, knowing how socios operate). So might any “fame fuckers” in general. A term that Rodrigo was told she shouldn’t use if she wanted to be as “relatable” as she was on Sour (before the “fame monster” took hold). Nonetheless, in her interview with Phoebe Bridgers for, what else, Interview, Rodrigo shrugged, “…fame is more accessible than it has ever been. Everyone is yearning for some sort of internet virality, and there’s so much social climbing and lust for fame in the world that doesn’t have anything to do with living in L.A. or New York. It’s just prevalent in our generation.” One wonders what Joan Didion would have to say about that if she had been Rodrigo’s age in this time.

The trend in songs “about people” continues with even more specificity on “lacy.” Except that the girl named Lacy in this song is a general embodiment of any proverbial “hot girl” that can inflict feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing in other women. Something the unnamed narrator in Ottessa Moshfegh’s My Year of Rest and Relaxation knows all about. To that end, there’s never much consideration for the effortlessly hot girl’s own difficulties in being automatically hated for being hot (think: Kelly LeBrock in the Pantene commercial saying, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful). But that’s not who we’re here to sympathize with on this track. Because Rodrigo knows there are far more “ugly” girls out there who will relate as she sings, “Lacy, oh, Lacy, it’s like you’re out to get me/You poison every little thing that I do/Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately/And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you/Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.” 

To continue drawing the parallels from the songs on Sour to the ones on Guts, “lacy” is the obvious companion to “jealousy jealousy” (as is “pretty isn’t pretty”). And a name like Lacy does suggest a certain frilliness and daintiness. This further corroborated by Rodrigo describing Lacy as having “skin like puff pastry” (though that sounds like it would be kind of gross and cellulite-textured). And yes, the Del Rey influence continues to flicker in and out with keywords like “ribbons” and “daisies” that also show up in this track.

The pace picks up again on “ballad of a homeschooled girl,” during which Rodrigo returns to her more “rock-infused” tone while giving voice to an underserved sect of humanity when it comes to pop culture offerings that are relatable. Describing the many unique woes of the homeschooled girl, being socially awkward is chief among them. Indeed, Rodrigo has stated that she lived a rather quiet life prior to all this fame and attention hitting her like a ton of bricks. Surely her contemporary and fellow homeschooled girl, Billie Eilish, feels the same. And yet, what both women have actually ended up doing is advocating for homeschool as a path to musical fame. After all, you have enough time to yourself to “create” and not get caught up in the bullshit of deliberately manufactured social dramas. Some of which a “homeschooled jungle freak”—as Cady Heron (Lindsay Lohan) is called in Mean Girls—can end up causing as a result of her social ineptitude whenever she dares to “go outside.” Thus, the chorus, “I broke a glass, I tripped and fell/I told secrets I shouldn’t tell/I stumbled over all my words/I made it weird, I made it worse/Each time I step outside/It’s social suicide/It’s social suicide/Wanna curl up and die/It’s social suicide.” The use of “social suicide,” of course, being a nod to Damian (Daniel Franzese) in the aforementioned Mean Girls (since Rodrigo clearly fancies herself a millennial at heart) telling Cady that joining the Mathletes is social suicide. Something she didn’t pick up on herself as a result of being homeschooled.

And yet, it was obviously homeschooling that fortified her path to fame (especially while having a set tutor during High School Musical: The Musical). A phenomenon she’s already starting to grapple with, as we hear on “making the bed.” An overt nod to the old adage, “You made your bed, now lie in it,” Rodrigo knows that although she did everything in her power to become famous, she’s now struggling with the unforeseen “disadvantages” of it. Even though just about every pop star before her has sung a song about this very conundrum (from Madonna with “Drowned World/Substitute for Love” to Britney Spears with “Lucky” and “Piece of Me,” and now, to Billie Eilish with “NDA”). Though fewer have spoken of the ways in which “money changes everything” for the worse rather than the better when it comes to making art. Eilish, on her own sophomore record, immediately acknowledges this idea that the pressure of money becoming so involved in how one creates their art can automatically taint the enjoyment of it. So it is that she sings, “Things I once enjoyed/Just keep me employed now.”

Rodrigo builds on that attitude similarly via the lyrics, “Another thing I ruined I used to do for fun” and “Every good thing has turned into something I dread.” Alluding to the song that launched her into the spotlight in the first place, Rodrigo also makes heavy-handed driving references in the lines, “And every night, I wake up from this one recurrin’ dream/Where I’m drivin’ through the city, and the brakes go out on me/I can’t stop at the red light, I can’t swerve off the road/I read somewhere it’s ’cause my life feels so out of control.”

Delivering the chorus with such heart-wrenching sincerity that her plebeian listeners feel like they might almost understand how horrendous fame can be, Rodrigo explains, “Well, sometimes I feel like I don’t wanna be where I am/Gettin’ drunk at a club with my fair-weather friends/Push away all the people who know me the best/But it’s me who’s been makin’ the bed.” Indeed, “making the bed” is another peak Pisces moment for Rodrigo in that she knows how to feel sorry for herself while also being aware that the pain is mostly self-inflicted. She speaks to this reality by adding, “And I’m playin’ the victim so well in my head/But it’s me who’s been makin’ the bed/Me who’s been makin’ the bed/Pull the sheets over my head, yeah.” But at least they’re probably very high thread-count sheets. And yeah, like Ariana once declared, “Whoever said money can’t solve your problems/Must not have had enough money to solve ‘em.” Rodrigo, incidentally, does give a dash of an homage to “7 rings” at the beginning of “making the bed” by saying, “Want it, so I got it.”

The same can’t be said for whatever boy du jour has abandoned her. For while she may have “gotten” him for the moment, he always ends up slipping through her fingers and generally disappointing her anyway. While also obliterating her already fragile self-esteem for good measure. To that end, the ballad vibe continues with “logical,” a piano-heavy number that thematically channels “1 step forward, 3 steps back,” “enough for you” and “favorite crime.” It also serves as the first in a quartet of songs (followed by “get him back!,” “love is embarrassing” and “the grudge”) with an overt running motif. Always related to some asshole who done her wrong. For, as Rodrigo’s roundabout mentor, Del Rey, noted during a pre-interview at the Billboard Women in Music Awards, much of the “world building” on women’s albums comes from boyfriends. So at least they’re good for something, right?

Her flourish for simple mathematics (again, “1 step forward, 3 steps back”) is a big part of the song’s chorus as well, prompting her to belt out, “And now you got me thinkin’/Two plus two equals five/And I’m the love of your life/‘Cause if rain don’t pour and sun don’t shine/Then changing you is possible/No, love is never logical.” Said like someone who has only ever known toxic relationships. Which are especially easy to come by at Rodrigo’s age, as all the late twenties men come to her yard (something Eilish has experienced, too). Besides, it’s as Rodrigo says on “vampire”: “Girls your age know better.” In many regards, “logical” does feel like the “addendum” to “vampire,” emphasized by the same words and visuals being used. Namely, “You built a giant castle/With walls so high I couldn’t see/The way it all unraveled/And all the things you did to me/You lied, you lied, you lied, oh.”

Enter the need to “get him back!” as retribution for all those lies. Alas, in true Rodrigo fashion, the phrase has a double meaning—on the one hand referring to revenge and, on the other, actually getting him back in her life. The panoply of conflicted feelings about whether she loves him or hates him reaches a zenith in the lengthy bridge (delivered, like the chorus, in that child choir-y voice that’s present on songs like “Youth of the Nation”), during which she says, among other negating things, “Wanna kiss his face…with an uppercut” and “I wanna meet his mom…just to tell her her son sucks.” This latter sentiment giving Del Rey on “A&W” when she taunts, “Your mom called/I told her you’re fucking up big time.” Because, clearly, the way a mother raises her son is the largest reflection of why he is the way he is (that is to day, a cad). Cardi B also seems to agree on “Thru Your Phone” when she raps, “I just want to break up all your shit, call your mama phone/Let her know that she raised a bitch/Then dial tone, click.” This, needless to say, can be a quite effective method for “getting him back.”

As the song that’s slated to be her third single from the record, the video potential for it is ripe for male mockery (and, of course, car keying). What the world always needs more of, considering how self-serious and reckless with others’ emotions men continue to be. This being part of why, well, “love is embarrassing” (even though it’s more like Sky Ferreira said: “everything is embarrassing”). Or, more to the point, “straight love is embarrassing.” Because how could any self-respecting woman allow herself to be duped both so frequently and so spectacularly for the sake of some subpar (supposedly) hetero male?

The uptempo, Bruce Springsteen-y song paints a picture that’s typical of Rodrigo’s doomed love life as she opens with, “I told my friends you were the one/After I’d known you like a month/And then you kissed some girl from high school/And I stayed in bed for like a week/When you said space was what you need.” That last line echoing Rodrigo’s so-called nemesis, Taylor Swift, when she says on one of her own many breakup songs, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together,” “We hadn’t seen each other in a month/When you said you needed space/What?” Unlike Swift, however, Rodrigo is more adept at delivering a chirpy-sounding chorus that belies the rage she’s expressing in the lyrics. For example, “‘Causе now it don’t mean a thing/God, love’s fuckin’ embarrassin’/Just watch as I crucify myself/For some weird second-string/Loser who’s not worth mentioning/My God, love’s embarrassing as hell.” Apart from the religious metaphor, Rodrigo also references her “bad idea right?” video with the “loser who’s not worth mentioning” line, for that’s what the ex is listed as in her contacts when he calls her.

To boot, Rodrigo, for someone who still has so few albums, keeps finding ways to be self-referential. This includes her accusing, “You found a new version of me,” a patent repurposing of the opinion expressed on “deja vu.” She finishes the song by channeling “late era” Kesha vibes with her outro as she further self-berates, “I’m plannin’ out my wedding with some guy I’m never marryin’/I’m givin’ up, I’m givin’ up, but I keep comin’ back for more.” Such is the way of the masochistic Pisces. And perhaps most women (regardless of their zodiac sign) in general. 

Slowing it down again on “the grudge,” Rodrigo takes us back into “traitor” territory (including use of the word “betray”) as she goes off on yet another (or perhaps always the same) asshole who mistreated her. Unraveling all the resentment she’s tried to let go of, but can only keep holding on to (like Saul’s [Bob Odenkirk] brother, Chuck [Michael McKean], on Better Call Saul), Rodrigo bemoans, “And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream/How could anybody do the things you did so easily?” That latter demand appearing constantly in some form or another throughout her canon, whether it’s Sour or Guts. She then admits, “And I say I don’t care, I say that I’m fine/But you know I can’t let it go/I’ve tried, I’ve tried, I’ve tried for so long/It takes strength to forgive, but I don’t feel strong.” Cue Sheryl Crow asking, “Are you strong enough to be my man” (as opposed to weak enough to make others feel just as weak)? The answer being that the amount of weaklings has only intensified since Crow made that query back in 1993.

Rodrigo then veers back into her other favorite song topic: aesthetic insecurity. With its The Cure-esque interpretation of an “upbeat rhythm,” “Pretty Isn’t Pretty” is the Guts edition of “jealousy jealousy” (not to mention Rodrigo’s version of TLC’s “Unpretty” and Beyoncé’s “Pretty Hurts”). Addressing the same dilemmas of “jealousy jealousy,” Rodrigo offers a more mature track detailing the psychological ramifications of comparing oneself to other women, usually because of social media. Among the most relatable lyrics to a girl of any age are, “I could change up my body, and change up my face/I could try every lipstick in every shade/But I’d always feel the same/‘Cause pretty isn’t pretty enough anyway.” It’s in this song, too, that she wields the same line about trying to ignore something, which then only causes it to bubble up and explode to the surface all the more. Hence, “You can win the battle/But you’ll never win the war/You fix thе things you hated/And you’d still feel so insecure/And I try to ignorе it, but it’s everythin’ I see.”

Despite some saying that Rodrigo’s insecurities are emblematic of an age she’ll grow out of, “teenage dream” is a direct assault on that notion. As the closer for the standard edition of the record (the deluxe one forthcoming), the melancholic “teenage dream” (watch out, Katy Perry) rounds out Guts with tinges of what Rodrigo already explored on “brutal” (complete with use of the phrase “teenage dream”), during which she spews, “And I’m so sick of seventeen/Where’s my fucking teenage dream?/If someone tells me one more time, ‘Enjoy your youth’/I’m gonna cry.” Here, too, she despises the drawback(s) of being young, which mainly consists of “not being taken seriously” and having one’s feelings perpetually invalidated. Little does she know, it’s like that for a woman at any age.

Rodrigo then returns to her paralyzing fear that becoming famous was a huge mistake, inquiring, “Will I spend all the rest of my years wishing I could go back?” Del Rey delves into that same existential question and then some on “White Dress” when she sings, “I was a waitress wearing a tight dress/Like, look how I do this, look how I got this/It made me feel, made me feel like a god/It kinda makes me feel, like maybe I was better off.” Del Rey also mentions being nineteen in the song, the same age Rodrigo was while recording Guts. It seems to be one of the more underrated “growing pains” ages for women as they transition into something like “adulthood,” but still not quite (#imnotagirlnotyetawoman). Ergo, Rodrigo chanting (as she speaks to the crushing pressures of instant success), “They all say that it gets better/It gets better the more you grow/Yeah, they all say that it gets better/It gets better, but what if I don’t?”

Of course, it’s difficult to believe things won’t keep getting better for Rodrigo, at least for a little while as she remains “a pretty young thing” (both “to guys” and society at large). It’s only when she breezes past the ingenue phase that she might genuinely have to “apologize” to the masses, “And I’m sorry that I couldn’t always be your teenage dream.” Such is the cruelty of romanticizing and exalting teen girlhood. It sets all teen girls up for becoming nothing more than chaff in the harshly judging eyes of “humanity.”