Olivia Rodrigo: GUTS review – the rallying cry of a generation

Equally packed with punk rock instant classics and beautifully understated piano ballads, Olivia Rodrigo’s bravura second album is somehow fiercer, wittier and altogether even stronger than her Grammy-sweeping debut.

It takes about 52 seconds for the brilliance of Olivia Rodrigo’s sophomore album to hit. It begins with a delicately plucked acoustic guitar and semi-whispered vocals as Rodrigo sweetly delivers disingenuous lines about being perfectly socially aware and having “sun in my motherfuckin’ pocket”. It’s an expletive that foreshadows the rage that’s about to unfold: a clatter of drums followed by an implosion of distorted guitars and bratty, Avril Lavigne-esque vocals, matching Rodrigo’s rage at having to conform and look effortlessly pretty as the fawned-over young American pop star she is. all-american bitch is not just a smartly executed satire but simply a great rock song, with unusually fierce and unhinged guitars for a pop album so deeply in the mainstream, plus a rebellious shouted chorus that lands with all the impulsive force of a teenager’s bedroom door slammed shut.

It’s a bracing opener that sets the tone for what should become one of the great pop-rock albums of the decade. Where her generally excellent debut record SOUR outstayed its welcome with increasingly underpowered wallowing in the same formative breakup, GUTS sees Rodrigo venture (partly) beyond the world of misbehaving boys, in the process diving deep into the full throttle punk music that lingered dormant within the highlights of that first album. Raucous banger ballad of a homeschooled girl perhaps best exemplifies Rodrigo’s evolution and sudden maturity as an artist as she sings about social anxiety and unease at settling into a crowd after her unique upbringing as a child actor at Disney. What makes this song about awkwardness so brilliant is just how confident the music sounds as Rodrigo sings of “social suicide.” This song is not self-pity but a vivid recreation of Rodrigo’s (and, as it happens, much of her generation’s) anxiety in the form of a rapid torrent lyrics and a restrained bridge that promptly collapses upon itself into an electrifying finale.

Interestingly, a newfound willingness to be a little silly on GUTS is all part of that new maturity. Where SOUR occasionally risked slipping into melodrama, GUTS is mellowed out with wry anecdotes from a turbulent love life and jokes at Rodrigo’s own expense. “Yes I know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect?” she quips on gritty Wet Leg-esque number bad idea right?, a song about willingly doing what you absolutely know you shouldn’t – far from the only unifying feeling of adolescent life that Rodrigo has comprehensively unpacked in her two albums already. get him back! is even more fun, a sharp-witted tale of getting a spot of light revenge on a clueless ex complete with a killer singalong chorus and an irresistibly groovy drum groove.

When Rodrigo gets serious, though, she doesn’t hold back. Lead single and perhaps this album’s finest achievement vampire steadily crescendos towards the condemning lines “bloodsucker, fame fucker, bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire,” delivered with enough conviction to void any previous criticism that 20-year-old might be throwing in swear words just for cool points. There’s no mistaking that vampire’s vehemence is whole-hearted as the drums build into a canter and a twisting chord progression tugs on the heartstrings with accumulating urgency. At the heart of it all is the best vocal performance of Rodrigo’s career so far, transitioning from exquisitely quiet opening to bell-clear belted high notes that slice through the mix like a hot knife during the second utterly flawless middle eight of her career (after drivers license, of course). It all comes crashing down satisfyingly in a wall of spliced piano chords and deafening cymbals, triumphantly wrapping up what may be Rodrigo’s greatest three minutes of pop.

On lyrics alone, however, it’s hard to beat making the bed, an artful standout ballad that grapples with the uglier aspects of the celebrity life that Rodrigo has inadvertently created for herself. “I’m playing the victim so well in my head,” she admits as a mire of electric guitars and washed out piano chords inexorably begin to subsume her. Much of the detail on GUTS is inevitably difficult to relate to given it draws directly from the truly bizarre upbringing of a young global celebrity, but on making the bed there’s something strikingly universal about Rodrigo’s deep-seated guilt and cognitive dissonance. There’s similarly exceptional lyrics on classy piano ballad logical, where Rodrigo tells of falling for a dishonest lover “like water falls from the February sky.” She ends up concluding that nothing about love makes rational sense with the ingenious “the sky is green, the grass is red / you mean all those things you said,” making a mockery of the superficial ‘roses are red’-style love poems she must have received from countless desperate boys over the years. It’s rounded off with a sense of self-awareness typical of GUTS’ maturity, Rodrigo admitting in an introspective bridge “I know I’m half responsible.” This isn’t just a case of mining a flawed relationship for witty comebacks and one-upmanship. This is the intricate, pained unravelling of both party’s flaws set to ruminative piano and beautiful melodies.

In terms of sheer songwriting quality, GUTS never loses an ounce of momentum during its 40 minute runtime. In other years and on lesser albums, love is embarrassing could quite easily be a smash hit and worthy song of the summer with its joyfully self-deprecating chorus and pulsating synth beat. On GUTS it’s just another underappreciated deep cut, as is smooth and catchy indie pop number pretty isn’t pretty, which covers the well-documented topic of unrealistic beauty standards with a new clarity. “Fix the things you hated and you’d still feel insecure,” Rodrigo bluntly points out at one point, reminding us it’s something deeper than the supermodels and sunny Instagram posts that are making young people feel so insecure.

Most of all, it’s Rodrigo’s age that runs a thread through this album, with the singer both grappling with intense fame at such a young age and the jealous, patronising put downs that she receives from her invariably older critics. The opener’s semi-earnest declaration of “I know my age and I act like it,” proves to be self-deception by the time the stunning closer, teenage dream, is reached, when Rodrigo asks “when am I going to stop being wise for my age and just start being wise?”, sounding almost defeated. There’s also the uncomfortable question of whether committing her entire young adult life as an actor for Disney was wise. “‘Got your whole life ahead of you’ […] / But I fear that they already got all the best parts of me,” Rodrigo reflects in a line that must resonate with any young person unfortunate enough to come of age during a pandemic. Therein lies the great magic trick of GUTS, an album that has the raw intensity of Rodrigo’s singular life experiences but is equally adept at speaking on behalf of an entire generation of Gen Z-ers. For me, like many other 20-year-olds the world over, this album has quickly become part of my identity, a work of music to scream and dance along to in vigorous catharsis or confide in during quiet moments of overwhelm. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

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