“stupid song” (track 2) & “expectations” (track 12): what relationship do I want? (Olivia Rodrigo’s YPSPFAGSIL, analyzed)

“I met him at a party,” Olivia sings at the start of “expectations.” Likewise, the first verse of “stupid song” describes a party where she feels insecure. At both there’s drug use, by her friends (“stupid song”) and her ex (“expectations”). Is it the same party? Narratively, I would say that seems to be the suggestion, whether or not that maps onto Olivia’s real-world relational history. This pair of songs presents different perspectives on that event and its consequences. As the tale unfolds, it demonstrates Olivia’s character growth across the album’s story.

And wow, what a difference in Olivia’s perspective on her (ex-)boyfriend between the two songs! In “stupid song,” she longs for him and dreams of him, speaking of her affection for him with allusion to Greek mythology (“I’m a heart made of wax and I’m melting in the sun.”) By the time of “expectations,” those wax wings have melted away, and having fallen back to Earth, she admits that his positive perception of him was a delusion (“he wasn’t smart or funny, I convinced myself he was”). Her fear in “drop dead” wasn’t just paranoia, in the end; she really did make him up.

The first verses of both songs end with an emphasis on communication, and as a communication professor that makes me happy. In “stupid song” she imagines their interaction, longing to speak with him. Yet in “expectations,” she has prevented communication by blocking his number.

The chorus of “stupid song” is a passionate statement of romantic desire, and it is a desire that is unchecked: Olivia feels like she is on fire, and like she is a “car… without a brake.” Meanwhile, “expectations” presents her brand-new relational brake system in a non-nonsense, deadpan tone: future guys can’t be passive, or indecisive, or have a fake job. She’s replaced her total insanity in “stupid song” with a grounded rationality, pouring the cold water of caution and self-respect on the flames of romantic desire, yet still holding to faith, drive, and heart.

The second verses of both songs live in the shadow of the party. In both, Olivia is in a dress: in “stupid song,” lying passively on her bed when she should be in pajamas, while in “expectations,” she’s “rocking [her] mini dress with a vodka cran and an open heart.” In “stupid song” she is a picture of desperation; in “expectations,” she is full of confidence, looking with disdain at the guys that are so “desperate for loving, but… I’m not.” Really, “expectations” proves her claim in “stupid song” wrong (“And all the girls at this party are so cool, that’s never been a thing that I could do”). Now, she has become the confident girl who owns the social scene.

There’s also something to be said about the geography of these songs and the entire album. Toward the beginning of the saga, she is in New York City; by the pivot point in “purple,” she feels at home in London. After crying on the curb at LAX in “less,” she’s still back at home in Los Angeles in “expectations,” expecting to be disappointed by the guys at a bar in the suburbs. Geographically, we’re coming back around to where the album began, moving homeward; “cigarette smoke” will soon describe the scene of emotional devastation that her home has become.

When reflecting on “u + me = <3” and “begged,” I considered social exchange theory, which uses an economic lens to evaluate relationship choices. That theory says we compare our relationships to our comparison level. That level is essentially a threshold we need to meet in order to be satisfied. When I teach my students about this concept, I tell them that the comparison level is, essentially, how “high maintenance” someone is. In “expectations,” Olivia is saying that comparison level has risen; it will take more to keep her happy than what she tolerated in her last relationship.

No other pair of songs so clearly demonstrates Olivia’s character growth across the arc of the album. One line succinctly sums up this growth and the interplay between the two songs: “Gave my heart with zero stipulations [in ‘stupid song’], now [in ‘expectations’] I take careful consideration”.

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“honeybee” (track 3) & “less” (track 11): where is this relationship going? (Olivia Rodrigo’s YPSPFAGSIL, analyzed)

Within close relationships research, some scholars have examined relational turning points. A first date, a big fight, a wedding, or the birth of a child are some examples. When scholars do this type of research, sometimes they have people draw a chart of the relationship’s ups and downs over time, using that graph to identity those turning points.

If Olivia were drawing such a graph, “honeybee” would be a high point and “less” a low point. And these two piano-driven songs both mark big turning points: In the first, the relationship formally starts, and in the second, the relationship formally ends.

The first verse of both songs take place in a nighttime setting, focusing on time and healing. In “honeybee” her outlook is optimistic, exclaiming that “it’s true time can heal even the worst of wounds.” In contrast, in “less” she isn’t feeling well, her “body and head protesting” with a “stomach” that is “in knots” (which flows from the symptom list in the prior song, “what’s wrong with me?”). Now, the idea that time will heal is a vain hope that flies in the face of evidence: “maybe it’ll fix itself tomorrow, but I’ve been saying that like every night.”

Both songs also feature Olivia’s quietness, but that silence has different meanings. In “honeybee” she assures him, “even when I’m quiet I love you, baby, I promise.” Yet in “less,” there’s no assurance to be found when she says “I don’t wanna talk, let’s just go to bed or something.”

There’s also contrast in the meaning of their time together. In “honeybee” it is sweet (like a “sticky sweet tangerine”), intimate, and fun, as they “walk in the dark, hop the fence in the park” and as he simply “pick[s] [her] up, walk[s] [her] home.” By “less,” these simple yet meaningful dates have been replaced by bigger, costly events that are joyless (“our trip to Big Sur only confirmed this isn’t what it should feel like”).

In “honeybee,” his face is the lyrical focus, and it’s a lyrical focus that foreshadows what will happen in less: “I hope I never see what your face looks like going.” Then “less” tells us what he is like when he is going; he isn’t leaving in anger, but rather does “the noble thing” by giving her a way out that she’s doesn’t want to take. In “less,” the focus turns to her face. He watches her cry twice, first in the chorus, and then “on the curb at LAX.” And in “less,” Olivia acknowledges that he’s “seen [her] truly happy, so [he] know[s] right now [she’s] not,” a callback to the sorts of light, joyous events described in “honeybee.”

The terms of endearment also move in opposite directions. The word “honeybee” only occurs once in the song, and in the same line she calls him “baby boy.” At the end of “less,” now he is the one calling her “babe” as he speaks the words that will terminate the relationship.

After instrumental breaks (that, perhaps coincidentally, end at the 2:41 mark in each), both songs move quickly to the end. And in each conclusion, the focus turns to hopes and wishes. In “honeybee,” the final line “here’s to hoping” foreshadows danger; in the final line “I wish you loved me less,” that danger has become reality.

Undoubtedly, the album treats “purple,” the song where Olivia realizes they have become too attached, as a key relational turning point as well. On either side of purple, and equally distant from it, “honeybee” and “less” chart the turning points before and after that chart their shift into and out of romance.

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“maggots for brains” (track 4) & “what’s wrong with me?” (track 10): how does my body feel in this relationship? (Olivia Rodrigo’s YPSPFAGSIL, analyzed)

Last time, I considered how “u + me = <3” and “begged” are about the exchanges that happen in relationships. And an exchange-oriented approach to relationships is inherently individualistic: it’s about what I get out of the relationship versus what you get out of the relationship. But, when we get really close to someone, our mental “balance sheet” changes. We no longer think of you and I, but rather, we think of we. My costs are your costs; really, they’re our costs. Same for our rewards. That’s the subject of self-expansion theory, which claims that when we get close to someone, we include that person in our sense of the self.

That’s the focus of “maggots for brains” (track 4) and “what’s wrong with me?” (track 10). Both tracks use medical language to describe how that self/other overlap makes Olivia feel. There’s perhaps more subject matter similarity here than any two tracks on the album. In both, Olivia is sick and her relationship is the reason why.

In the first verse of both songs, Olivia is at home, bored, and not feeling well. She’s also unable to communicate these psycho-bodily sensations clearly: In “maggots,” she “tried to write, nothing came out,” and in “what’s wrong?”, she “can’t describe this feeling [she’s] got in [her] head.” Throughout both songs she remains homebound, but with one futile exception in each, going “to a party but only on principle” or “to the doctor, and she said I was fine.”

The chorus of both songs is a description of her illnesses, a bit like the list of symptoms she’s entering into Google on “what’s wrong?” In “maggots,” she is a “zombie in her body”; “what’s wrong?” echoes this in verse 1, as she is “out of body in [her] bed.” In both songs she is helpless in the face of her symptoms (“nothing ever seems to help” and “what can I do but think of you?”). And both choruses conclude with the diagnosis: in the first case, this is “just the thing that happens when my baby goes away”; in the second case, “I think you’re what’s wrong with me.” In other words, the problem is his presence, and then later the problem is his absence.

There’s even similarity in how Olivia tries to cope with her sickness: by drinking large quantities of beverages. In “maggots” it’s “a pot of coffee”; in “what’s wrong?”, a “bottle of wine.” One is a stimulant, and the other a depressant, which fits both songs and their respective halves of the album.

In terms of self-expansion theory, these songs reflect the deep level of self-other inclusion Olivia feels in this romantic relationship. When we are so close to someone, it’s natural to feel like part of you is missing when the one you care about is gone. In many cases that’s healthy, but as “this song “maggots” looks ahead to the pivot point, we know Olivia will ultimately decide it’s not. And as “what’s wrong?” looks back on that pivot point, Olivia’s heartache is that she isn’t certain she wants to have this level of self-other inclusion anymore. Her prescription has shifted quite a bit from wishing for anything, even “a tragedy,” that would bring him near.

Finally, there’s Olivia’s curious observation on “what’s wrong?”: “lately I’ve been spiraling.” A spiral is a circle… like a ring. Perhaps this is a subtle hint that the album is spiraling around, revisiting themes. The next theme we’ll consider are the songs before/after, which chronicle the relationship’s beginning (“honeybee”) and its end (“less”).

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