There’s a strange duality in sadness. On one hand, we all want to find a modicum of happiness that lasts longer than one day or night. We conceive media and art and entertainment around an abstract quest for fulfilment of this dream. Romantic movies packed with absurd characters, game shows that promise wealth or fame, bubblegum sweet love songs are all fashioned around this idea of reaching some kind of mountain top. Sadness motivates us to find this state of healing and completion – it’s the coal in the ovens of our hearts!
But then, up there, we are not quite happy. We have to prune and cultivate our formerly imaginary gardens, and face the amount of energy and strength this costs. But, returning to sadness, there is a strange comfort within the state of failure. Possibly because sadness allows us to be static for a moment. In a world dominated by capitalism and constant social reflection (Instagram has furthered this even more), being static seems a way out of the grind, away from the dehumanising machine of labor exploitation and consumerism and back to our natural state of sensory, emotional entities. But then, as postulated by Wilco, what would our sadness be, without wishful thinking?
Indeed: it is lone boy summer! 27°C and bursting sunshine and still, the world feels oddly empty, doesn’t it? All the political and global melodrama throttles the idea of personal melodrama, even if we find ourselves right in the middle of some minor road bump to our way out of isolation.
And anyways, the melodramatic musical side of 2026 hasn’t quite been front loaded. Yes, URGH is still in heavy rotation, as are the Neurosis and By Storm albums, but there’s not a lot of valid melodrama! The pop albums of 2025 all landed with a flat sound, thud, because they all kind of sucked. Wuthering Heights was great, but almost swept away in the negative reception of the film it accompanied.
But anyways, is there a pop album as anticipated as the new Olivia Rodrigo, this year? Liv has had kind of a perfect track record so far, coming out with a perfectly fine teenage debut in SOUR and then the gut punch of GUTS, that perfect blend of alternative rock and piano-pop that felt like it was recorded in 1998. It won me over, it won John Amen over, it won Melon over, it even won Rolling Stone over! It marked a woman that had just entered her 20s as entering a potential imperial phase. And just as LP3 seemed ready to go, life hit.
Let’s not dwell on rumours, but I do think it’s noteworthy to address stories from earlier this year, that Rodrigo was spotted crying at a fairly large social gathering, surrounded by friends, who made big eyes. The relationship that had started at the tail-end of her last album (“So American”) had ended, and suddenly there were plenty stories about LP3 being shelved against the label’s wishes, Rodrigo writing new songs, followed by the usual smokescreen stories when it comes to major label PR. While we may never know the full extent of the truth, the divided nature of you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love is quite noteworthy. LP3 might as well be two EPs, marked on the vinyl as “Girl So In Love” and “You Seem Pretty Sad”. Musically distinct from each other, they document a person first falling in love, and then breaking out of love. Well, isn’t that nice: sadness!
Maybe Liv should have heeded the warning she explores in the chorus for opened “drop dead”: I mean, “Pisces and a Gemini”? Sorry, but if there’s a water sign that can’t deal with the complexities and contradictions of Geminis it absolutely those little weird fishees. Yeah, the cover image, Olivia swinging upside down into the heavens, eyes closed, makes sense now. I know, Liv thinks her and the Gemini “go really nice together”, but you need a Cancer for that to actually fit. Still, well, if you mention a Gemini that “knows all the words to ‘Just Like Heaven’”, I get why she feels like she would want to stay forever. “drop dead” is documenting what Liv called “the perfect date”, and the upwards movement of her vocals throughout the chorus perfectly sums this elation and euphoria. The bubbly synth tones and hushed verses of the chorus provide a lavender impression of Sophia Coppola movies and Christmas lights in what can be regarded a perfect love song. It’s a strong start and introduces listeners to the revelation that, for LP3, Rodrigo has abandoned the alt-rock guitars. In her own words, the new wave mix of jangly guitars and bubbly synths is her intuitive sound of love.
What Liv doesn’t mention is how much like Manhattan her third album sounds. There is plenty of intimate piano ballads across the record, which fit perfectly into the images of tiny jazz bars, gated parks and brick-buildings romantic NYC movies have implanted in the pop cultural conscience. Everything is expensive, romantic, orchestral, nostalgic.
“stupid song” builds itself up like something you’d expect from the golden era of Arcade Fire’s first two albums, climaxing with the realisation that Liv never wanted someone more than her opposite, while “honeybee” exchanges pathos for the intimate splendour of a late night wish – the song sounds like a lover observing their sleeping partner. But these are the only two songs on the “happy” half of the album that use this aesthetic, as things get bubblier afterwards.
There’s shades of Echo and the Bunnymen, New Order and The Cure to the following songs. “maggots for brains” could have fit on Brotherhood, or – if we want to be more modern – one of the better The 1975 albums, with its goth bass line, soaring guitar solo and cute refrain. “u + me = <3” sounds almost exactly like a Soccer Mommy song, with its slacker vibe of drawn out lyrics to jangly guitars and cool demeanour. It’s my personal favourite on the A-side, thanks to the somewhat monochrome guitar riff colliding with the careless vocal delivery and an especially rousing refrain. Suddenly, Liv is back in 1998, observing her boy’s sister and cutting their names in tree bark.
“my way” nods to Garbage, or late Elastica, all grungy synths and attitude drenched vocal melodies. It’s a great banger, but I suspect a Gen Xer will find a more fitting comparison – somewhere in the back of my memory, there’s a song from a lifetime ago that is quite similar. The reason why I can’t focus is likely “purple”, the closing track of the first half, a bubbly power-ballad with hidden, busy guitar and sub-bass, that might well be a thesis song. We still need a clear answer as to what Liv’s Type O Negative-like obsession with that colour (shades of which change with each cover) is, but here it represents the mixture of both lovers: red and blue, wild passion and cool melancholia. It’s a great track and more memorable than its predecessor. Noteworthy is that Liv acknowledges in the last lines that the love story slowly moves into sadness, as the transition to the second half is not quite as harsh as expected.
By now, there’s a couple of takes on “the cure”, the standout single of the album: some think it’s a blend of The Smashing Pumpkins’ “Disarm” and “Everlong” by the Foo Fighters, others claim she has named the song after the favourite band of her ex, popping up in search engines and on Spotify. While I’m sure that the title is at least an homage to Robert Smith (more on that later) and I definitely hear the “Disarm” connection, I find it more suggestive of Billy Corgan’s writing style during his stint in the supergroup ZWAN – “Declarations of Faith”, for example. But, all that aside, “the cure” is absolutely brilliant, a five minute tour de force that builds and builds to an exceptional, string-led climax. It’s a little bewildering to hear this woman – arguably the most strikingly beautiful and gifted of the current day pop-stars – sing about her insecurities, comparing herself to other girls and seeking approval through a partner, but, well, there we return to the aforementioned Pisces issues. Liv, Girl, you can’t find that sort thing with a Gemini!
And so the story unfurls on the second half, which is dominated by quiet and intimate ballads. Regarding the album’s origin story, it is not unrealistic to assume these songs were written earlier this year, recorded relatively quickly, captured in their emotional intensity with little to no grooming. “begged” seems an evolution of “logical” and has shades of Laura Marling and Jeff Buckley’s naked ballads, solely carried by Liv’s strong and expressive vocal performance. The heartbreaking “less” returns to the glow of nocturnal Manhattan: reduced to piano and vocals, the performance captures a similar aura to Billy Corgan’s rendition of “My Blue Heaven”, some old 1920s era tune that Liv just stumbled across and fashioned around her current emotional state. The end, here, comes quietly, and not with fists, but regret and quiet tears.
Speaking of some lost classic, the two somewhat “uptempo” songs on this “sad” half of the album return to the 80s. “Expectations” is led by a demented synth line, not too dissimilar to the style of Blondie or Devo, as Liv explores falling for a rich neppo baby and has fun with her own gluttony. It’s a campy, dumb, joyful, incredibly fun song – even bringing a boy choir in near the end to really bring the tackiness to a high level. Even if I am too old for this shit – this a song you want to jump around on your bed to. Editor, is it OK to jump on your bed here? (Ed.: Leave my bed alone, thanks). Either way, this is a banger.
“what’s wrong with me” is the opposite, returning to the lavender melancholia of muffled snares and muted synths – and, here we are, Robert Smith guesting! Liv and Smith have struck a, somewhat likely, friendship and the latter’s lyrics are an incredibly nice addition, bringing his usual weary amd resigned tone to contrast Liv’s questioning insecurity: Robert already knows how this game ends. The composition could be a little more daring, but the strong vocal melody and sharp bridge absolutely help the song.
Still, they are brief moments on a second half that is dominated – and finishes with – quiet reflection. At almost six minutes, closer “cigarette smoke” returns to the neo-slacker vibe of Soccer Mommy and Snail Mail: melancholic, reserved and slow, the ballad is another gradual build-up to an anti-climactic finish, breaking down just before it soars, symbolising the implosion of the central relationship. There’s some especially punchy couplets here, as Liv compares the smell of cigarette smoke that sticks to your clothes to the fading memories of love as the song quietly fades away: “You said that I made lovin’ look easy / ‘Til I made it hard / […] I thought that we played the perfect couple / ‘Til you didn’t want the part”.
It’s a strong finish to an album that often feels like Liv attempts to overcome her heartbreak through growth. Her writing is more mature, focused on expertly developed vocal melodies and emotive performances. It is not as interested in the bold alt-rock swagger of the 90s tinged GUTS, and there is a bit of that pride, that adolescent arrogance that made this album so exciting missing here. Liv is best when she confronts her insecurities with a riot grrrl attitude, letting loose and allowing that Pisces in her to roar. On her third album, the fish is deep in the waters of her melodrama, as the airy Gemini can’t quite provide the fire this might have been necessary to make these songs boil into rock.
However, Liv is approaching the concept with just the right amount of sensitivity and intuition to carry the album even with the somewhat more subdued sonic palette. While I personally prefer GUTS, it’s hard to argue against you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love being her most accomplished project so far. First of all, it eats most pop albums of the past 18 months with a spoon, providing a truckload of singalong choruses and striking ballads that carry it comfortably to a Grammy nomination. But second, Liv evidently proves she’s deserving all the hype the mainstream press has showered her in. She’s gradually growing into a really, really exciting artist, at an age where most musicians are in the process of just signing their first indie label deal. All 13 songs here are memorable, there’s not a single skip, and with each spin, they become more personal and emotive to the listener. And finally, and most importantly, her third album can easily carry lone boy summer! At least until somebody makes Gemini Rights a thing…
82%
