How did a queer pop song with knowledge of queer theory make the Billboard Hot 100? Specifically, how Chappell Roan, a rising lesbian pop star, debuted on the Hot 100 and broke the “gay celebrity” ceiling (as SNL he puts it on) seemingly preventing like-minded acts MUNA and Girl in Red from crossing over to the main chart?
With nearly seven million streams in its first week and a spot in the Spotify Top 10, Chappell Roan's new single “Good Luck, Babe!” has the makings of a major hit – No. 77 might not seem like a particularly impressive debut if you're an A-lister, but for someone who's been in and out of the major label system for nearly a decade, it's a remarkable, well-deserved breakthrough. It helps when you have a tour slot with Olivia Rodigo, a Tiny Desk gig, and a Coachella performance that, unlike any other Coachella set, went viral for the right reasons. In the midst of this, perhaps any new song of hers would have made the chart, but it matters that “Good Luck, Babe” is the one that did, and the one that may continue to climb even higher next week as her upward trajectory continues. .
To understand how we got here, it's important to know Roan's perilous journey involving all three major corporations. Born in Missouri and raised in a conservative Christian household, she was signed to Warner's Atlantic Records and positioned as the next Lorde after a video for her 2017 single “Die Young” went viral and moved to Los Angeles to pursue her pop career. When “Pink Pony Club” was released in April 2020, Atlantic didn't know what to do with a weird gay club song in the middle of lockdown and dropped it right away.
After a brief stint in her hometown, she returned to Los Angeles, releasing her next singles through Sony's independent distribution arm, AWAL. Here she further developed her longtime partnership with “Pink Pony Club” producer Dan Nigro (then blown up by his work with Olivia Rodrigo), who produced singles like 2022's sizzling sex anthem “Naked in Manhattan.” Nigro eventually signed Roan to his Amusement Records in 2023, with a contract with Island Records following soon after. Until last summer, she was still working at her old camp, teaching songwriting while leading a double life as a drag-influenced pop star. Fleece she often compares herself in Hannah Montana because of this duality.
As soon as her island debut was released last year, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, that Roan appeared fully formed. She immediately gained a following among the kind of pop superfans who champion Rina Sawayama and Caroline Polachek – neither of whom have made the Hot 100, but both have successful careers anyway. What set Roan apart was how undeniably fun and silly her music was. There is no other pop musician right now of any level of fame who will open an album with a song called “Femininomenon” and include the line “get it hot like Papa John” in the chorus. Her lyrics were honest about her sexuality, particularly in a viral line from Midwest Princess song “Red Wine Supernova”: “Did I hear you like magic? I have a Wand and a Rabbit!” However, there's also a goofy down-to-earth quality – in the same song, she brags cheekily about her twin bed and her roommates, who gleefully interject “don't worry, we're cool!”
Roan's mischievous theatricality made her capable of opening Olivia Rodrigo's play Offal tour; the two share not just a producer, but a crazy spirit. From there, her momentum picked up, culminating in a gig at the Tiny Desk and an acclaimed performance at Coachella. With Spotify streams steadily increasing, The end of her trip with Rodrigo was the best possible time to drop a new song, but unlikely for a relative risk like “Good Luck, Babe.”
What makes “Babe” fascinating is that it's hard to place. Internet pundits have compared it to Kate Bush, Wham! and recent alt-rock crossovers The Last Dinner Party. With its slower tempo and simple arrangement, it's closer to lo-fi alt-pop charters like Steve Lacy's “Bad Habit” or even Clairo's “Sofia” than Roan's usual music. But the best comparison might be Cyndi Lauper. it's the big voice, the big hair and of course the big choruses. Lauper didn't have a more mature midtempo song until “Time After Time” was a last-minute addition to her debut She is so unusual, and this became her first Hot 100 No. 1. While heralding a “new chapter” for Roan, (and while Lauper already had a huge hit with “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”), “Good Luck Babe” works similarly for Roan, showing an unseen depth to the sound her.
The actual content of the song finds Roan breaking up with a girl who isn't ready to date. It was quickly written in a fit of rage, the song follows Roan warning this girl that she'll be unhappy if she denies his feelings: “you gotta stop the world just to stop the feeling,” he sings. She, Nigro and wildly successful queer songwriter Justin Tranter spent months hammering out the song, even if it's hard to tell from a cursory listen. It's noticeably lighter on its feet than its maximalism Midwest Princess; percussion is limited to a drum machine and there are no gang vocals or cheerleaders. In the past, Roan may have been swallowed up by Dan Nigro and company's production, but here she's given room to breathe and can show off her impressive falsetto on the chorus. It's this approachable quality that may have allowed “Babe” to connect better with listeners.
It's not just a pinnacle for Roan, but a mainstream moment for a concept mostly known to queer theorists and Tumblr junkies until this point. Compulsive heterosexuality, invented in 1980 by Adrienne Rich, is a term that describes the social imposition of heterosexuality on women. Internet sapphics of a certain age may know the concept because there is a Google Doc out there for those questioning their orientation. the infamous “”lesbian masterdocwhich fellow queer icons Kehlani and Rene Rapp have mentioned in interviews. These themes become crucial to understanding “Good Luck Babe,” where Roan is victimized by her ex-lover's partner and knows the other is not happy: “You can kiss a hundred boys in bars/ Shoot another one, try to stop the feeling.”
Rapp's Tranter himself co-signs “Beautiful girls” mines similar territory for laughs (“Yeah, that bitch's gay,” Rapp laughs at the end), but Roan is mired in a genuine sadness and concern for the other person. Most of the song is closer to tough love than an outright diss, making it easy to be in the shoes of both – the lover and the scared, closeted ex. Roan even tweeted “Good luck, bitch” to an image of her past that precedes herself, referencing her own history of overcoming competition. He said herself last year that even though he was dating a woman, he was too scared to kiss her in public.
That's not to say the song is entirely soft: the bridge depicts her ex in a loveless, empty marriage to a man “nothing more than his wife.” At the end of the bridge, Roan roars “I told you so,” and it's the worst moment of anything released so far. “Babe” comes into the world amid growing acceptance of LGBTQ people and a serious anti-LGBTQ backlash; It's hard to blame someone who's too scared to come out, and behind the lyrics about that “sexually explicit love,” Roan clearly knows it. She's not happy with that ex, she is angry to the ex not to take the leap with her, while she understands what it's like to hide in the closet. After a string of frothy pop songs, embracing more complex emotions might have been the boost she needed all along. She wouldn't be the first person in recent years to get away with getting messy — there's a reason she's opening for Olivia Rodrigo, after all.
Due to UMG's TikTok feud, no official audio clip is available on the app, but like the songs of some of UMG's contemporaries, the song goes viral anyway: true to its message, “Babe” persists through any external forces which may affect it. With her recent success, Island positions Roan not as a cult following, but as a pop star. Of course, Roan currently has several songs scaling Spotify's Daily Top Songs USA chart – with “Supernova” even climbing into the top 50 – showing that this is no fluke, but complete feminine phenomenon.
There is much to learn from Roan's success. She didn't get lucky on TikTok or get lucky on Spotify's algorithms (although TikTok obviously played a huge role), she just had a label that knew how to use it and a live show that sparked genuine word of mouth. The hardest part of the music industry at any level is getting people to care about your music, and Roan has given audiences reasons to care – whether it's the music, the over-the-top aesthetic, or the inspiring story of a Missouri woman. come to terms with her identity.
With “Good Luck, Babe,” those fans are finally rewarded, but it's bigger than just one great song from a promising artist. Along with Rap and Victoria Monae, Roan is leading a new class of young queer pop stars who are gaining fame without compromise, and it's not too hard to imagine that this is the rising tide that finally brings their gay contemporaries the success they deserve . Even if the world doesn't stop, it won't stop them.
from our partners at https://www.billboard.com/music/chart-beat/chappell-roan-good-luck-babe-queer-pop-music-1235659813/