“I’m going to play you a song that I’ve been playing in my bedroom. I hope that’s okay.” This was Olivia Rodrigo’s introduction to her mellow cover of Fontaines DC’s ‘I Love You’, which saw her deliver a reasonably impressive pronunciation of the line “Is their mommy Fine Gael and is their daddy Fianna Fáil?” As an intro it could, frankly, have made sense for practically any part of her emphatic Marlay Park show.
That is, after all, what appeals so much about this fast-rising star. Rodrigo’s music is littered with references to self: “I’m so obsessed with your ex.” “I want to get him back.” “Bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire.” “I got my driver’s license last week.” Her self-penned hits sound exactly like a diary, like a form of clever exploration that involves the listener being let into her inner world.
And what a clever world it is. For the self-proclaimed ‘serious music fan’ crowd, Rodrigo is one of those acts it’s easy to dismiss offhand. A history playing a role in High School Musical and associating with Disney does that. So does being very young. Sadly, having a fanbase made up heavily of young girls definitely does it too. The ‘serious music fan’ crowd, though, have this one very wrong.
To date, Rodrigo’s two albums have a fairly obvious progression. Debut ‘Sour’ is downbeat, heavily focused on heartbreak and life’s more personal woes. Loaded with lightly feminist anthems and the kind of subtle, gently subversive elements that might take a couple of listens to grab hold of, it’s a heartfelt and relatively delicate pop record full of earworms. Follow up ‘Guts’ is the punchier, pop-rock sibling, crammed with emotional attitude and infectious chords. Together, they pair up like a somewhat smiley version of the five stages of grief, delivered with clever turns of phrase and real heart.
That whole thing translates more than well live. Rodrigo has a vibrant stage presence. Outdoors, gone are some of the tricks that permeated her arena tour last year (there’s no floating moon taking her around the venue, or dancers, for example), but the more elaborate stuff isn’t really needed: with those Disney facial expressions down pat, Rodrigo is an incredibly natural frontwoman.
Bravely, after opening with a punchy ‘Obsessed’, three massive tracks are dropped in early, with smash single ‘Vampire’ followed by ‘Drivers License’, perhaps her finest slow track, and punchy ode to ex-sex, ‘Bad Idea Right’?
Walking that line between music that’s suitable for her typically very young audience, some of whom are quite visibly weeping with joy in the front row, and expressions of adult relationships and gentle sexuality are part of what Rodrigo does well. This can feel, at times, like an intro course to the adult world, but expressed beautifully, something of a warning flag of bumps in the road ahead in musical form. The pureness of that, together with that clever turn of phrase, connects well.
Unlike a lot of pop, the lyrics are usually notably intelligent. Rumoured love rival Sabrina Carpenter somewhat comically appears on the big screens (an ad of some sort) right before Rodrigo walks out, and the contrast of the pretty nothingness of ‘Espresso’ and the loaded personal depth of ‘Pretty Isn’t Pretty’ (a slow ode to feeling not enough) or the regretful narrative of ‘Love Is Embarrassing’ (we’ve all been there) is utterly stark. Rodrigo brings a story that feels uniquely hers, where many bring little more than a vibe.
I’m aware, of course, that I’m being borderline overly effusive here, but it’s easy to do so when you’re so used to finding pop so flippant, and someone delivers so emphatically on the opposite. There are a few lesser lights, of course. ‘Happier’, for example, feels a bit of an odd exploration of kind of half moving on, and ‘So American’ is catchy as hell but basically falls into the ‘simple pop with a hook’ category. But most of this show is spellbindingly good, a tour de force in lilac and butterflies.
That cover of ‘I Love You’ by Fontaines DC – a local classic that Rodrigo says she loves – is perhaps one of the weaker moments, though her interpretation of it as something close to a ballad has its own raw beauty. It does explain a lot about the way Rodrigo sounds: underneath the shiny pop exterior, there’s a real element of subtle edge, and a woman in touch with music outside of her obvious realm.
That pop-rock element comes out firmly in what is the first of two encores. ‘All-American Bitch’, ‘Good 4 U’ and ‘Get Him Back’, each of which offers the kind of bounce along moments and whopper choruses we’re happy to lap up. They’re backed by a vibrant band, and as the main woman departs the stage she gives a subtle ‘stay here’ gesture towards the front few rows, a light nod that she’s not quite done.
A minute later she’s back once again, running through a gentle version of ‘Lacy’, in the company of just one of her guitarists, at the crowd’s vocal request. ‘Lacy’ is perhaps my least favourite Olivia Rodrigo song. It’s a little plodding, and a little lyrically weird in a way that I’m not entirely sure works. As a toned-down closer, though, it’s beautiful, and feels like goodbye.
All in, this superb live show is pop music with depth, personality, and an incredible level of infectiousness. It’s not a five star show, largely because it has those slight quality lulls, but it’s not far short, either. Rodrigo already has a depth of songwriting ability and ear for a poetic line that would be the envy of many far more experienced artists, and an emphatically passionate fanbase. At 22, though, I’d strongly back her to come back with something even better, and based on the slow morph she’s already pulled off, something a little bit different.
The rising star will headline Glastonbury on Sunday night, a show that’s been tagged in some quarters as a stretch for her in the heart of that massive pyramid. There’s no chance at all she’ll be the middling headliner some are predicting: it’ll be another glorious step on what’s already a truly memorable road. With ticketless fans already perched outside just to hear her from a distance on the Grange Road, a Taylor Swift level of stardom really doesn’t feel impossible.
