Olivia Rodrigo or; The Bigotry of Low Expectations

Before he presided over the ruination of Iraq, George Bush was governor of Texas. His then speechwriter, Michael Gerson, gave him a now infamous phrase to describe supposed racial inferiority complexes—”the soft bigotry of low expectations”. It’s an extremely insidious statement, one that insists nonwhite lack of achievement is somehow due to community attitude of problems. However, like future Bush Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld’s “there are known unknowns”, it’s truly a great linguistic flourish, when we as a society used to couch fascistic ideas in polite phrasing.

I belabor the point to say it’s an excellent way to describe how music critics see Olivia Rodrigo’s music. Now, I don’t hate Olivia by any means. She seems very chill and down-to-earth, has good taste, isn’t seemingly obsessed with always being in the social media zeitgeist unlike a certain pop rival. But maybe it’s the same easiness and likability that makes everyone treat her with kid gloves. you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love is the latest case in a poptimist sort of participation award; wow Olivia you did it, you’re so alt and different than those other Disney Channel alums sweetie :)

Forgive me for being too shady, I’m a bit tired. Tired of the same Taydaughter shit paraded around as interesting or good songwriting or a barometer for where pop is going. I’ve been asked if I hate pop music, and I don’t really. I think I hate pop music that has zero black influence. It’s not your prerogative to hate this music as an antiracist imperative, god knows I’m not that preachy (though I try), but it does strike me as deeply unintriguing to my ears, in the same way the Eagles or Journey have no fucking swag to speak of.

Low expectation rears its head in the lyrics particularly. “I’m a car speeding down the boulevard without a brake /And I want you more than any stupid song could ever say” has the ingratiating Swiftian metaphor quality; self-flagellation and insecurity that begs to be taken as diaristic poetry and succeeds in being the hardest thing you could post on Facebook when you were 12. Look we all have problems, but forgive me if the conventionally attractive rich popstar’s boilerplate tribulations about how she doesn’t think she’s cool enough and actually I wanna fuck that ugly guy is mind-numbing.

But if you are in middle school, I get it! I get having big feelings and feeling dumb and doing cringe shit and wanting music about it. There’s no problem with catering to that and making art for an audience that is scared and earnest in a myriad of confusing ways. Seeing adults praise this shit, though, is fucking embarrassing. Acknowledge it, it’s part of the culture, she’s big, whatever. When I see a dude in his 40s lavishing praise onto “expectations” because it sounds like “She Blinded Me With Science” and M’s “Pop Music”, I hurl. You’re a fucking mark. You’re willingly drinking the fucking kool-aid. I seriously want better for you niggas.

I harken back to doing the UPROXX critics poll (RIP) in 2023. A grouping of critics aggregating the best albums and songs of the year, the successor to the legendary Village Voice Pazz & Jop poll. Olivia’s last album, GUTS, landed at #2. It deeply perturbed me. This Paramore/Sleater-Kinney kiddie pop record was so loved by fellow critics it surpassed Kelela’s Raven and MIKE’s Burning Desire. You people need to stop writing about music and go be marketing directors or McKinsey consultants instead of trying to dictate what good taste is. The incuriosity of it all is unbearable. Sorry Olivia, you seem like a nice person though.