Album Review: Olivia Rodrigo - SOUR

Imitation might be the sincerest form of flattery, but in the world of music, to take after one’s influences too strongly is often tantamount to committing a cardinal sin, a one-way ticket to being written off as an untalented hack, a corporate sellout, or worse. Suspicions about the sincerity of Olivia Rodrigo’s ambition were already pervasive even before her debut album SOUR was released, given both her ties to the oligarchical Disney corporation and the bewildering success of lead single drivers license, which came out of nowhere to break numerous records and spend eight straight weeks at the top of the charts. Ever since that song first began its streak of inexplicable popularity, the legacy of artists like Taylor Swift and Billie Eilish has loomed pointedly over Rodrigo’s music, and much of SOUR is similarly content with being an entertaining facsimile of modern pop icons as opposed to actually developing the fledgling artist’s individuality. Still, Olivia Rodrigo deserves her share of accolades for putting together such an enjoyable product on her first attempt, even if the nature of that quality calls into question whether the singer herself will be able to carve out a niche alongside the titans of pop music she is profoundly indebted to.

Comparisons to fellow pop wunderkind Lorde were inevitable as soon as people first heard the wistful, melancholic bridge of drivers license, and like Lorde’s sophomore record Melodrama, SOUR sources much of its lyrical substance from the intense fallout of a dysfunctional romance. The aforementioned single stews in intimate nostalgia as Rodrigo drives heartbroken through suburbia and struggles to reckon with the frailty of her fractured relationship; rarely do songs this utterly despondent become overnight sensations, but the infectious pathos in her voice as she croons “I guess you didn’t mean what you wrote in that song about me/’Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street” is starkly evocative in all the right ways. For most of the record, however, Rodrigo trades in Lorde’s comfortable melancholy for a combative bitterness that persists right up until the album’s waning moments. Her castigation of her ex is unremitting and unabashed on tracks like deja vu, and even if she doth protest a bit too much when zeroing in on his new girlfriend (“She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused/That was our place, I found it first”), the singer’s righteous anger is easy to relish in, especially when backed up by caustic synths and some delectably coarse percussion. She at least fesses up to her envy on the morose and resigned happier, which sways uneasily atop a cascade of piano notes as Rodrigo pulls back the curtain on all her outward-facing hostility (“And now I’m pickin’ her apart/Like cuttin’ her down will make you miss my wretched heart”) yet brings it all back to a sympathetic refrain of half-hearted acceptance: “So find someone great, but don’t find no one better/I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier”.

Considering how blatant cuts like 1 step forward, 3 steps back are in outlining Rodrigo’s musical inspirations, analysis of SOUR through the lens of her most immediate pop predecessors cannot be avoided. The ballad in question goes so far as to interpolate the melody of Taylor Swift’s New Year’s Day, a minimalist piano line that has somehow been made even more austere to match Rodrigo’s uncomplicated lyrics; the song itself is passable, but contrasts poorly when held up to Swift’s intimate and poetic original. On the other hand, jealousy, jealousy is effectively the best Billie Eilish song in recent memory, with Rodrigo crafting a laudable interpretation of Eilish’s suave immaturity atop an efficient blend of bass, piano, and the occasional synth sting. It’s a shame the singer’s words can’t quite match the cynicism embedded in her voice, especially compared to more effectively self-deprecating cuts like the pop punk album opener brutal and its disillusioned view of adolescence (“And I’m so sick of seventeen/Where’s my fucking teenage dream?”). The blown-out mixing is a nice touch that gives the track a raw, unrefined energy only bolstered by indignant guitar chords and Rodrigo’s angst-filled punchlines: “They say these are the golden years/But I wish I could disappear/Ego crush is so severe/God, it’s brutal out here”.

The potent synthesis of these latter two moods takes the form of good 4 u, Rodrigo’s second chart-topper and an effective counterpoint to the wistful post-relationship heartache that defined tracks such as drivers license and traitor. Her acidic sarcasm permeates the verses, laced with not-so-subtle barbs at her ex-boyfriend (“Well good for you, I guess you moved on really easily/You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks”), with more and more emotion seeping into her voice as the song builds to an explosive chorus of Paramore-esque catharsis. But while Rodrigo sounds equally capable atop both slick bass grooves and punk-tinged guitar breakdowns, it’s the record’s slower, more sedated ballads where her artistic limitations are most overtly exposed. enough for you strains the singer’s voice far outside her comfort zone in an attempt to sound candid and authentic, and the banal positivity of hope ur ok is too detached from the record’s narrative to feel satisfying as an album closer. Still, the fundamental issue that abounds throughout SOUR’s least impressive moments is the superficial lyricism; even drivers license, for all its sentimental efficacy, rarely moves beyond the literal while exploring its suburban imagery. Notable as an exception is the penultimate track favorite crime, an acoustic reminiscence littered with lines both poetic and poignant: “And I watched as you fled the scene/Doe-eyed as you buried me/One heart broke, four hands bloody”. Rodrigo’s infatuation with the music of Taylor Swift finally pays dividends here; as unremarkable as the song may seem, no other moment on SOUR provides stronger evidence for the amateur songwriter’s potential as an artist in her own right.

SOUR largely forgoes the need of most breakup albums to reach some sort of emotional deliverance and reclaim a happiness independent of any romantic relationship, motivated instead by an unrelenting spite that may be what saves the record from the forgettable mediocrity one would expect of something so derivative. Aside from a few aberrant instrumentals, Olivia Rodrigo’s debut is eclipsed for the most part by a legion of influences she cannot quite measure up to, even if her attempts to do so are far from uninteresting. With so much ancillary spectacle surrounding its release (the impossible success of drivers license, the celebrity drama that inspired its lyrics, the parroted reverence of other pop stars) threatening to overshadow the record itself, that SOUR ended up such a consistent and enjoyable experience is perhaps an even more impressive accomplishment than any number of chart-topping singles. Many will always view songs like drivers license as little more than diminutive echoes of more talented artists, but Rodrigo’s efforts here, imitative as they are, still deserve to be appreciated on their own merits.

7.5/10

Favourite Tracks: good 4 u, drivers license, favorite crime