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Olivia Rodrigo’s highly-anticipated third album, you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, is her most sophisticated and cohesive to date. While there are moments on the album that feel a bit juvenile, Rodrigo has created something many seasoned artists struggle to achieve: a masterful record that can be listened to from top to bottom, and that fans will no doubt return to over and over again.

The album tells the story of a relationship, from a hopeful, romanticized beginning to the defeated ending. However, this wasn’t always the album concept; the original vision was that of a pure love album, until Rodrigo’s real-life romantic relationship ended last December. At that point, she had already begun laying down the tracks, resulting in her working with her producer, Dan Nigro, to rework some of the existing songs to fit a new theme. Many fans theorized that the original album had been scrapped, but after listening to the record, it’s clear that this wasn’t the case, as there are plenty of love songs (they’re just tinged with an aura of anxious attachment) as well as sad songs that sound like they were composed in the depths of the relationship’s lows. Rodrigo herself has also admitted that certain songs, such as “cigarette smoke,” were written last, well after the breakup.

You would think that having worked on an album that was going in one direction (love) for two years would spell disaster when suddenly needing to alter course. Now, after having listened to the entirety of the album six or seven times in its first week, I can’t fathom how it would have worked as anything else. Rodrigo and Nigro executed the concept so well that it’s hard to believe the album’s final form wasn’t the plan all along.

You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love starts out strong with the single “drop dead” which, while a hit by any measure (over 270 million Spotify streams at the time of this post), left me hoping for more of Rodrigo’s unique sound, which she certainly delivers on in the next track, “stupid song.” “Stupid song” builds beautifully, with an everchanging bridge and exuberant chorus that make you feel like you’re in the climax of a romcom, running toward the love of your life. My initial gripe with “stupid song” is that its chorus sounds saccharine sweet (“I’m a heart made of wax and I’m melting in the sun” feels just a tad sappy) but isn’t that the point of a track called “stupid song”? It’s a sweeping melody with gorgeous vocals from Rodrigo, and with it already being the third most-streamed song after “drop dead” and “the cure,” it’s bound to be one of the top songs of the album – and possibly even this year’s coveted song of the summer.

We then slow down when we reach “honeybee,” a La La Land-esque number with hauntingly beautiful strings and background vocals from Nigro and Conan Gray, Rodrigo’s best friend and fellow pop star. This track captivated me right away and is a candidate for my favorite song on the album. It’s filled with vulnerability, love, and trepidation, making it the first song to signal this love story might not have a happy ending.

But Rodrigo kicks things up a notch with “maggots for brains” and “u + me = <3.” “Maggots for brains” is exquisitely fun, with a retro 80s sound and one of Rodrigo’s best bridges to date; notably, her singing “what can I do… but think of you?” sounds reminiscent of A-ha’s “I’ll be gone… in a day or two0000” in “Take on Me.” While seemingly another love song about how much she misses her beau when he’s away, she cleverly layers in hints that the relationship might not be as healthy as it seems, particularly with the line “and sometimes at a low point I even wish for a tragedy/‘cause I know he’d come over and take real good care of me.” There’s nothing wrong with missing someone, but the song heavily leans toward an unhealthy attachment. It begs the question of whether or not the song was originally written that way, or if it had been tweaked after the fact to sound intentionally concerning.

“u + me = <3” is one of the strongest melodies on the album; Rodrigo herself described it as the ideal song off the album to listen to while cruising down the Pacific Coast Highway. Like “stupid song,” it’s also a bit too cheesy for my liking, but it really does capture what it feels to be so in love, especially as a young 20-something. It also marks the first time on the record that Rodrigo drops an f-bomb: “people say modern love’s a cruel endeavor/and to that I say ‘fuck it, whatever’.” Rodrigo’s restraint in using curse words on this record (she only has 3 explicit songs) makes each of their appearances all the more meaningful and effective, and this one is by far my favorite.

The biggest blight on this album is “my way,” a track so sonically unpleasant and bratty that I had to hide it from my plays on Spotify. While the song is important in that it sets up “another woman” as presumably the catalyst for the insecurities Rodrigo talks about on the B-side of the album (and whom she possibly references in the final song, “cigarette smoke”), the album works just as well without it. It feels disingenuine, as Rodrigo is known for her classy, mature persona, and yet she attempts to portrays herself as a “petty bitch” attacking a woman who crossed the line with her boyfriend. It feels more like Rodrigo playing a character and doing it poorly, which might be forgiveable if the melody and instrumentation were interesting; instead, it just sounds like a mess of noise, amounting to the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Don’t take my word for it though, as fans are currently streaming it more than “u + me = <3.”

We then reach “purple,” a song I fear many fans are sleeping on, as it’s one of the record’s more complex songs lyrically and musically. Originally intended to be a pure love song, “purple” functions as an effective turning point toward the sad B-side of the album. Even the tender lyrics at the start hint at trouble (“We fight over who I’m hanging out with like a real couple” and “I had big dreams ’til I tied myself to you”). “Purple” builds to a sweeping melody, complete with electric guitar, and then fades into doubt (“melt with you ’til it just turns black…melt with you ’til it just feels sad”). The more I listen to “purple,” the more I love it. I’m particularly impressed with how well Nigro and Rodrigo tweaked it to fit the album’s new concept.

And then we have “the cure,” Rodrigo’s second single and self-proclaimed favorite song in her discography. The song interested me more than “drop dead” did as a single, but it somehow sounds even better in the context of the album, adding to the narrative immediately following “purple.” Earlier on in you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, Rodrigo referenced how her “wounds are healing” (“u + me = <3”); in “the cure,” Rodrigo comes to the harsh realization that being in love actually won’t heal all of her wounds, and the insecurities she had before are somehow even more pronounced. This marks not just an effective turning point for the album, but for Rodrigo herself, reminding the listener that the girl who wrote “Sour” at 17 is growing up and evolving alongside her music.

Once Rodrigo admits that she’s struggling with doubt and insecurities with herself and the relationship, the album effectively mimics her mentally spiraling with “begged,” a whisper-singing guitar ballad about Rodrigo tiring of having to beg for what she wants in the relationship; then “what’s wrong with me,” a nostalgic-sounding track featuring Robert Smith from The Cure (can you tell Rodrigo is a fan of theirs?) in which Rodrigo reluctantly admits her relationship isn’t right for her. Smith’s and Rodrigo’s voices sound angelic in harmony, making this song soothing despite its subject matter.

All of this leads to “less,” a piano ballad that could fit in the lobby of a swanky hotel, in which Rodrigo resignedly sings about the relationship’s end. While this song seems to have mixed reception from critics, I found the wordplay clever and admire Rodrigo’s ability to string as many syllables as she does into one line (“but you’ve seen me truly happy so you know right now I’m not”).

Ready for a jump scare? That’s how “expectations” felt upon first listen, transitioning from a teary ballad to a Talking Heads-esque, upbeat track about putting yourself out there again. It was a bit of an acquired taste for me, but is now one of my favorite songs on the record. It’s fun, it features Rodrigo’s quintessiantial “speak-singing” (as seen on “bad idea right” and “get him back”), and it has two of my favorite lyrics on the album: “rocking my mini dress with a vodka cran’ and an open heart” and “don’t think my future husband’s at this bar in Silver Lake.” It showcases Rodrigo’s ability to infuse self-aware sarcasm into her lyrics (“Took a couple months…I am so evolved”) while simultaneously highlighting that she has indeed grown from this relationship. It’s also delightfully campy; the bridge’s deep, robotic “she’s got real big expectations” singing – courtesy of Nigro – provide some much-needed comic relief.

The album ends on “cigarette smoke,” which is a shocking 5 minutes and 40 seconds in length – shocking not because it’s that long, but because it actually feels much shorter. Rodrigo reflects on the relationship and packs a few emotional punches, revealing how she regrets how long she stayed, along with resenting her ex for not being brave and “taking her side” (alluding possibly to the other woman in “my way”). She belts her most gut-wrenching lyric in this track – “why’d I try at all?” – in the bridge, and her simulataneous frustration, anger, and sadness is palpable, so much so that even as a 30-something in a healthy relationship, the song consistently makes me want to cry.

You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love feels like a musical theater production in many ways, particularly in the way in which it effectively incorporates musical themes throughout the tracklist. Rodrigo does that particularly well on “cigarette smoke;” she calls her ex “honeybee,” references “begged,” and echoes “tell me something honest” from “honeybee’s” lyric “it feels too hard to describe this/in a way that feels honest.” It’s quite clever that Rodrigo’s marketing for the album has been around yarns – the tracklist is written in yarn-like font, Rodrigo’s profile picture is that of a crocheted doll – as the entire album feels connected by threads. We start the album at “stupid song” with a reference to “a thread…coming undone,” reach the “unraveling” referenced in “the cure” and conclude “cigarette smoke” having connected all the threads across themes, effectively tying up all loose ends. Just as we do, the music fades out as Rodrigo repeatedly sings “the memories go dark.” It’s brilliantly executed.

Many albums can be considered quality albums, designed to be listened to from top to bottom, but not many are easy to return to in the same way. Adele’s 30, for instance, is a fantastic record worth listening to chronologically as it tells a compelling story, but I only find myself returning to it for specific songs. I felt the same with Raye’s latest album, This Music May Contain Hope; beautifully done, but not one I’ve revisited much since. You seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, on the other hand, is one I can’t stop listening to from start to finish. Similar to how I can’t listen to just one song off of Hamilton without wanting to continue on through the entirety of Act I, I often plan to listen to just “stupid song” or “maggots for brains,” only to find myself going through the entire journey all over again.

There’s undoubtedly something special about Olivia Rodrigo. The streaming numbers for you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love are already breaking records; the album has racked up a total of 81.5 million streams on its first day alone – the seventh highest of any female artist in Spotify history – and, at the time of this post, has surpassed 700 million streams in its first week. But streaming numbers and records aside, Rodrigo’s songwriting is powerful and unique. Ever since her debut, I’ve felt that she is the number one artist to watch, especially considering the backing of top-notch musicians like Robert Smith, David Byrne, and more.

Rodrigo has carved out her own unique lane in the music industry: a pop-punk-rock feel that no one else is making at the moment, and, despite her self-proclaimed insecurities, embodies a confidence in her songwriting by creating music that feels right and true for her. Olivia Rodrigo is a once-in-a-generation artist, and you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love is a top-notch album that feels like just a preview of what’s to come.

Record Rating: A-

• 🌟A+ album cover
• 🌟Multiple hit songs
• 🌟A joy to listen to from top to bottom
• ❌ “My Way” should have been cut entirely or reworked
• 🌟Cohesive, intriguing story and concept

What did you think of you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love?