to Olivia,” Nigro told me. “People either have it or they don’t.” He’d spotted her on Instagram in early 2020—she’d posted a clip of herself singing “Happier,” a winsome song about watching an ex move on with another girl. Nigro got the chills. “The concept, the lyric, was so clever:was true to its title, a lollipop that planted an ache in your gut.
Talking to Rodrigo at the record store, it seems to me that she’s propelled herself into superstardom in part because of her ability to be exactly where she is: behind a piano, heartbroken; lying in bed, refusing to look at her Spotify numbers or follower count, knowing that her whole life is changing. Right now, she’s just in the East Village on a rainy day, telling me about her newfound Tori Amos obsession. We pull out a Bruce Springsteen live recording of a concert in Toronto in 1984.
Can she tell me more about these mistakes? She laughs. “You’ll have to listen to the rest of the album,” she says. One of the sticky points, for now, of Rodrigo writing autobiographically: The internet will instantly dissect the lyrics to find clues about her personal life.
For Vogue’s August issue, oliviarodrigo opens up about becoming a definitive Gen-Z pop star after “Sour”—and how now, at 20, she’s wiser, more settled, and ready for more.