The rise and rise of a midwest princess

When Chappell Roan was booked to headline Seattle’s relatively small downtown summer music festival, Capitol Hill Block Party, she herself was relatively unknown. By the time she played her set in the summer of 2024, she was massive. So much so that she had outgrown the venue and her billing.

On the day of her show, her music could be heard all across the streets of Seattle. Her hit single “Good, Luck Babe!” was blasting from house parties; fans were singing from their cars and in the streets. Groups of people were dressed in pink cowgirl outfits, in keeping with her theme for the show. The feeling was electric.

At Bonaroo and festivals across the country, festival organizers scrambled to move Roan to bigger stages and venues to accommodate the influx of crowds they expected. She broke attendance records at Lollapalooza.

Earlier this month, Roan took home the Grammy for “Best New Artist.” She was nominated for six awards for her album The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess.

The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, released in September 2023, is an album of contrasts and extremes: young people versus grown-ups; city life versus the country; queer culture versus straight. It’s about a young person discovering themself, exploring their sexuality and rejecting the rigid adult rules they grew up with. There’s also a “girls rule, boys drool” sentiment throughout the album; many of the songs are about dancing with your friends and ditching the boys when it comes to fun, connection and sex. Roan writes with urgency and exuberance, as if she’s experiencing everything — falling in love, hooking up at a club, breaking up — for the first time.

The themes of young adulthood are matched sonically with a child-like sense of playfulness. Some of the tracks play like children’s music for adults, with sing-along choruses, simple scripted dance moves and nonsensical lyrics. Several of the songs’ choruses and refrains feature nasal, bratty speak-singing.

Take, as examples, “Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl” and “Femininomenon.” Both about how men fail to measure up when it comes to love, relationships and sex; the virtues of relationships with women, and a world where women can love other women freely. “Hyper mega bummer boys” are hilariously contrasted with “super graphic ultra modern girls,” and found wanting. There’s a taunting air to this song: “He didn't ask a single question/ And he was wearing these fugly jeans/ It doesn't matter though/ He doesn't have what it takes to be with a girl like me.” And the punchline that sounds a little like a playground tease, “We’re leaving the planet and you can’t come!”

In “Femininomenon,” the joke is on the woman who ends up in a traditional relationship with a man. “Stuck in the suburbs, you're folding his laundry/ Got what you wanted, so stop feeling sorry,” Roan sings in the second verse, before launching into the delightfully absurd lyrics of the chorus, “Hit it like rom-pom-pom-pom/Get it hot like Papa John.”

Fantasy and imagination play a big role in Roan’s songwriting, too. In “Pink Pony Club,” she paints a picture of a “special place where boys and girls can all be queens every single day.” Rejecting her conservative, southern upbringing, the singer escapes to Hollywood and finds acceptance at a dance club. But even in this fantasy land, her mother’s judgement is in the back of her mind. The song's soaring and triumphant vocals are twinged with the pain of losing her family’s approval.

It’s not hard to imagine these songs narrating Roan’s own life. Roan grew up in a small, conservative town in Missouri — knowing that she didn’t fit in, and longing to escape. She began her career by uploading videos of her singing to YouTube. She moved to Los Angeles at 17, where she worked odd jobs in addition to making music. In 2017, she released her first EP, School Nights.

In 2020, after being dropped by her label and breaking up with her long-term boyfriend, she moved back in with her parents in Missouri. Roan eventually moved back to L.A., and a couple years later released The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. “Pink Pony Club” and “California” capture the pull of these different places; the comfort of her home and hometown, and the promise of her future in L.A. She grapples with some of the most relatable and intense themes of young adulthood: establishing yourself as an individual and finding your community, while still craving and needing the comforts of family.

Listening now to School Nights, it’s hard to trace the Roan of that early music to her latest album. School Nights is gothic and dark, with hints of Lana Del Ray, Florence & the Machine, Stevie Nicks and even Adele. Roan told Vanity Fair in 2023 that she “hated” School Nights. In contrast, the 80s-inspired, synth-pop sound of Midwest Princess was inspired by the queer clubs and drag shows she went to in L.A. This music was born out of her coming out as a queer person, and the sound reflects someone who seems more sure of herself.

Roan’s move away from the grungy sad-girl music that dominated the 2010s indie scene to a sound that is joyful, unapologetic and distinct encapsulates part of her appeal: she is authentic. In a social media landscape that feels scripted and fake, even her TikTok presence — with ostensibly unedited, low-budget videos of Roan dancing and talking directly to the camera — has a relaxed, homegrown quality to it. She famously confronted a photographer who yelled at her; fans praise her apparent lack of media training.

Roan shows that true authenticity can’t only be about the “good.” To be real, she also has to be vulnerable, even when it could be seen as unprofessional or unpleasant. She has cancelled shows to prioritize her mental and emotional well-being. She has been honest with crowds when she’s not feeling her best.

She also speaks frankly about what she describes as abusive behavior from fans. “I don’t give a fuck if you think it’s selfish of me to say no for a photo, or for your time or for a hug,” she said in a TikTok video in 2024. “It’s weird how you think you know a person just because you see them online or you listen to the art they make.”

Roan seems to be trying, desperately, to walk a precarious line between stardom and normalcy. The freedom and belonging she celebrated in Midwest Princess is diminished by her new fame — now, her everyday activities require pre-planning and a security detail. Giving her the space she’s demanding is first and foremost the respectful thing to do. It’s also allowing her to do her work as an artist, so she can dazzle us a second time with the radiance and energy that permeate her debut album.