Having spent her first two eras brutally capturing teenage angst with SOUR and GUTS, Olivia Rodrigo seemed primed to finally deliver a collection of happy, starry-eyed love anthems for her third album. Instead, the popstar decisively upends all expectations with you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, as she swings away from the familiar purple-hued brand of her adolescence to enter a distinctly more mature soundscape.
Across the tracklist, Rodrigo weaves a deeply intentional, chronological narrative that carries listeners from the exhilarating rush of infatuation to the slow unraveling of endless devotion. That same complexity manifests sonically, as she trades gritty riffs for an atmospheric blend of ’80s alt-rock and dream pop. Yet amid its stylistic leaps, the album remains threaded with the emotional wreckage that has long defined her songwriting—proving once again why listeners should be scared of her guitar.
Keep looking my way, honeybee
drop dead opens with the intoxicating optimism of a budding romance. Accompanied by a synth-heavy instrumental, it exerts the magnetic force that draws individuals towards each other, envisioning their compatibility early on. As the tracks pull forward, this romantic fervor hints at a possessive inclination with stupid song. Beginning as a gentle ballad before erupting into an aggressive and upbeat anthem, it sparks a flame that rapidly spreads and becomes all-consuming devotion. Yet beneath the dwindling high is a palpable sense of fear—one that desperately hopes for an inseparable connection.
honeybee then settles into a confessional serenade, encapsulating the vulnerability of wishing for a lifetime commitment. While honest and hopeful, it also foreshadows the unease that lingers beneath. But as the relationship progresses, Rodrigo taps into the harsh realities of unhealthy attachment and her devolving perception of self. Amid the happiness their connection brings, she frames her partner’s absence as the cause of emotional emptiness. The definition of love blurs and becomes synonymous with dependence as maggots for brains captures what the relationship turned her into: a sad shell of a woman who relies entirely too much on someone else.
But even then, Rodrigo does not fault her partner for this downhill slope as u + me = <3 doubles down on her prolonged conviction to stay together. Yet another hopeful anthem, she dismisses the bitter outcomes that may arise in the future. She continues to fawn over her partner, singing of adoration and deepening love. She then transitions into a feeling of profound jealousy in my way, a sonically Rodrigo staple of electric guitars and loud percussion that reflect her rage. Unearthing the beauty and the ugly of being a girl so in love, she wraps up the first half by redirecting her fears away from her partner and toward anyone who dares to come between them.
The unraveling
From the rose-colored symptoms of the initial honeymoon phase, the narrative slowly exposes the terminality of lovesickness. Evolving from her angsty, punk-pop elements, Rodrigo articulates the unspoken emptiness and double-edged nature of intertwining yourself with another person. purple melancholically lays the foundation for this transition through intimate melodies, disguised as a romantic ballad of two lives merging, yet the lyrics “melt with you till it all turns sad,” revealing otherwise. Rodrigo’s raw lyricism as she grapples with relationship paranoia leaves listeners feeling each wretched emotion as if it were their own.
Every song unveils another fracture in a seemingly idyllic romance. Listeners get a glimpse into her diary with the cure, where she grapples with her spiraling anxiety. Rodrigo reveals that a relationship is not enough to heal a heart that is full of doubt, no matter how beautiful it may be. Each evocative note implores listeners to reflect on their own experiences with love and loss—whether they were the ones who begged, clinging to the hope that their luck would change, or were the ones who let go. Slowly, the album begins to diagnose love as the poison instead of the antidote. She starts questioning whether the relationship is to blame for what’s wrong with me, a sobering collaboration with The Cure’s Robert Smith.
Each track delineates and dismantles the stages of grief, revealing the non-linear process of healing. Slowly, Rodrigo agonizes between wanting to stay and knowing when to walk away, a feeling which less perfectly encapsulates: “if loving me means letting go […], I wish you loved me less.” However, the mood shifts in expectations, as her pain slowly evolves into an upbeat, motivating track about finally championing her self-worth. The closing track, cigarette smoke, concludes the chapter with a bittersweet melody: not fully moving on, but slowly accepting that one must move forward despite the resentment. Feeling every beautiful, damaging emotion, the listener is left to linger in the album’s aftermath.
It goes her way now
you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love’s greatest strength undoubtedly lies in its storytelling. Rather than dwelling on a singular theme, Rodrigo demonstrates remarkable narrative control as she charts the subtle shifts, contradictions, and realizations that define a relationship’s lifespan. In doing so, she moves past the black-and-white teen heartbreak that laced much of her earlier work to stitch a more nuanced portrait of adult love.
The ambition extends far beyond the lyricism itself. Every creative decision feels purposeful, reinforcing the album’s emotional trajectory without ever overshadowing it. Whether through moments of quiet restraint or cathartic intensity, the instrumentation remains firmly in service of the story being told. The final result is a sonic evolution that balances her thematic maturity with a more experimental musical palette.
The album marks the definitive moment Rodrigo fully steps into her own artistic identity. Feeling no need to rely on the formulas that first propelled her to stardom, her instinct and confidence take center stage. Like the lasting trace of cigarette smoke, her artistry clings to listeners long after the last strum ends, a testament to a songwriter no longer bound by expectations, but creating entirely on her own terms.
Rating: 4.0/4.0
