“Knew it from the start, it was the only way to mend my broken heart/ Don’t ask too many questions, this is my one confession/ It never was enough, I always wanted more/I always wanted more“
… admits Addison Rae shamelessly in the lyrics to her single “Fame is a Gun“. The words unsubtly reveal Addison’s strong belief in a calling, a destiny of hers; she was destined to be famous. Success is not a want, but a need. And lately, there has been no doubt about the 24-year-old’s star quality. Her self-titled debut album was released on June 6th, and the singer has been riding the wave ever since, culminating with her position as opening act for two of Lana Del Rey’s concerts in London in early July. In hundreds of TikTok videos and Instagram reels, Addison is dazzling the crowd and the cameras by singing and dancing with a magnetism only reminiscent of Britney Spears and giving us a million-dollar smile.
And yet, the public was undecided on whether they are buying this new Addison attitude. With her very public rise to fame via TikTok dances, followed by American Eagle brand deals and failed attempts at acting in subpar Netflix comedies, Addison’s image for a long time was that of just another influencer, one of the most successful ones out there. Given this, her aspirations of becoming a serious musician were quickly condemned and ridiculed. Her first EP, AR, came out in 2022. On it were some mediocre to slightly amusing songs, but nothing stood out. It lacked personality and was, simply put, boring, which is probably the worst thing pop music (or art) can be. Addison was quickly labeled a try-hard, seeking an “unnatural“ way of entry into the business.
After releasing her EP, Addison disappeared for a while, only to come back in the most unexpected of ways; as a feature on Charli XCX’s single “Von Dutch“. The remix of the song that featured Addison was a huge hit, particularly due to one creative choice: Addison’s autotuned scream. When videos from the studio surfaced showing the moment that produced the scream as a completely spontaneous decision on Addison’s part, something shifted. She was starting to lose the image of the hollow TikTok star without any creative drive of her own.
When the first single of her new album, Diet Pepsi, was then released in August 2024, there was no doubt about Addison having come out of her cocoon. Her sound: Synth-driven and nostalgic, moody and eclectic. Her persona: Ditsy, sensual, and a little bit strange. With influences like Björk, Lana Del Rey, Kylie Minogue, and Britney Spears, Addison sure has some big pumps to fill. Yet, the word that was thrown around comment sections the most was: inauthentic. It was hard to believe that such a drastic change of aesthetic and creative choices was “true” to Addison’s actual character instead of just another marketing decision.
Yet again, what came to the surface was the gendered complexities of the industry: Pop culture demands women prove they “deserve” fame, in ways men rarely have to. Addison Rae was mocked not just for her music, but for daring to try at all. There’s a double standard: women must earn their place in music through perceived authenticity, struggle, or a narrative of suffering, while male artists (especially those with industry connections or unconventional paths) are more easily granted legitimacy. Addison’s creative process pushes against that very narrative — she works almost exclusively with women in the studio. In a genre that is heavily dominated by men and where female artists are often shaped by men behind the scenes, Addison is building a sound that is collaboratively feminine, and intentionally self-directed.
Two of the biggest faces in pop music right now, Charli XCX and Sabrina Carpenter, respectively “earned” their places on the podium through dedication to decade-long, slow-burn careers of mediocre success levels. In the eyes of the public, Addison’s biggest sin wasn’t making bad music; it was taking the elevator instead of the stairs. The obsession with “authenticity” often ignores that pop music has always been a performance of identity, not a confession of truth, and Addison is beginning to master that performance on her own terms. In her music, ambition itself becomes art.
With the release of her album, the needle dropped, and what played wasn’t just another influencer-turned-singer experiment, but a fully realized pop metamorphosis: bold, cohesive, and brimming with identity. A comment by YouTube user @ChaoticallyCreativeGinger reads: “Her aesthetic feels like a girl who stumbled into glamour… soft, dreamy, almost cinematic, but there’s always something just a little off. Not messy… just unpolished in the most human way. She’s the kind of woman who wears red heels on cracked pavement, breathes on the mirror before breaking down, sings in satin with smudged eyeliner. It’s like she’s haunting the life she was never supposed to have but somehow made it hers anyway.”
Between her sound, her music videos, and her live performances, it’s clear that she is not only very talented, but that she has studied pop music. She is not afraid to reference — “And when I’m up dancing, please, DJ, play Madonna“ — or not reference — “I got a whole new point of view“. If anything, Addison’s admittance of wanting to be very famous is what makes her authentic. She isn’t pretending she wanted to be anything else. Unlike many artists who position fame as a burden or a reluctant outcome, Addison Rae embraces it as the goal itself — and in doing so, taps into pop music’s most essential truth: fame is the fantasy.
