In some ways, Reneé Rapp was burnt out before she even really got started. The singer-songwriter-actor’s 2023 debut album, Snow Angel, preceded a major tour, a starring role in the blockbuster movie musical adaptation of Mean Girls and the end of her run on the hit HBO series, The Sex Lives of College Girls. After all of that, Rapp, 25, took some time for herself while making her fun, bratty, propulsive new record, Bite Me, in the process. Now that she’s on the hamster wheel of pop stardom again, she’s still not sure how she feels about it. “I make music for myself, but I don’t put out music for myself,” she says. “I don’t promote things for myself. If I was just going to do [it all] for myself, I wouldn’t put shit out in the first place. I’d have a different career.”
The career Rapp chose is heating up again, with Bite Me, due Aug. 1, already looking like one of the year’s most exciting pop albums — led by the effectively punky lead single “Leave Me Alone” as well as the incredibly catchy “Mad.” There’s also a fall arena tour to look forward to. As she gears up for both, Rapp reflects on the making of the album, settling into life with her rising guitar-hero pop star girlfriend Towa Bird, and how she’s managing the public’s perception of her no-fucks-given style.
You recorded your debut album after 14-hour days on set for Mean Girls. What was it like having a little more space to write and record Bite Me?
I tried to be more careful and cognizant of my time spent making this project, not only taking time to make it, but also really controlling what was going on around me. I started seeking my own approval, which was the biggest difference. And not only did I try to cultivate my own approval, but I was trying to cultivate my own environment. When I was making these songs, I was going out and seeing my fucking friends.
I was in the streets, and that felt so good. I just started doing what I wanted, and I started liking my life more. I was able to write songs from experiences that absolutely wrecked and destroyed me and turn them into something listenable, as opposed to just saying, “I’m so depressed I can kill myself.” I [wanted to] write a song about a situation that almost did kill me, but say it in a mocking way of “That’s so funny that you would do that to me.” I wanted to make these songs irreverent and resilient and crying, but smiling at the same time.
Why was the irreverence important in the delivery?
It’s just how I talk. I pretty much communicate everything in that way. Not to sound like SheEO, but I like to do everything with a sense of power. I like to make sure that the ball will always be in my court, even if I got royally fucked over and terrorized by people I worked with. I’ve never wanted to give anyone any power over me even if they’ve hurt me, like those are my emotions. Those are my feelings. I just approach everything with a dark-humored resilience. I love making light out of the terrible things that have happened to me, or things that I think are terrible experiences that I’ve had. What [else] am I going to do? Wallow in self-pity?
A great example of that is the song “That’s So Funny,” this emotional-seeming ballad that doesn’t wallow for too long. What situation inspired that one?
I think that was the last song that was written for the album. I had written a song on my first album, “Poison Poison,” about [the same] situation, and I was just so pissed and angry. [On “Poison Poison,” the song makes clear it’s about another woman who has been in Rapp’s life.] There’s no other way I want to approach this than a fucking diss [song]. I want this to be so vengeful and bitey, and we rewrote the verses of “Poison Poison” because they were too personal.
Then more shit happened with this situation last year, and it got to the point where I don’t even feel anger. I mean, I always feel anger towards it, but one of the overwhelming things I wanted to write about was what has happened to me is so diabolical. And I’m still standing. I’m still just walking away from this, trying as hard as I can to keep my mouth shut. And yes, this is me keeping my mouth shut, which I know doesn’t say much, but I wanted it to reflect how deeply hurt I was by that situation.
What were some of the influences on these songs?
Interestingly enough, the biggest writing influences are more so personalities, like my dad. He’s not a songwriter, but he’s the most funny fucking person on planet Earth. He’s hilarious, and so warm and loved and loving, but is flawed and so honest about it in a way that I admire so much. Musically, Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill was so influential. The powerhouse that is Joan Jett. We also took a lot of writing inspiration just from people, like a bad bitch all around like Kate Moss. A lot of the inspiration came from attitude and personality and people that I love and people that I admire.
On “At Least I’m Hot,” you worked with your girlfriend, the singer-songwriter and guitarist Towa Bird. What was it like to be in the studio with her?
We do so much of life together. She’s my best friend. I love being around her. I hate having to see other people. I fucking hate going to work now. Again, I used to hate my personal life, so I used to drown myself and work constantly so that I could avoid the people that I was around and myself and the situations that I had gotten myself into. Now, it’s the complete opposite. I had to go to the studio super late the other night, and I was so pissed because I was like, “Fuck you guys. These are my wife hours.”
I get scared working with her sometimes because she’s just really intimidating. As a person, she’s really cool. And I think the world of her. When she came in to cut her part on “At Least I’m Hot,” I felt so anxious because I don’t like asking people for anything. It makes me deeply insecure. I even get scared when I ask my girlfriend to work with me. But we work together all the time, and I force my way into working on her shit too.
The last time we spoke you were feeling burnt-out before you even released Snow Angel. What was it like to take a break before easing into Bite Me?
It was really scary. It takes a long time to figure out how to actually let yourself take a break. I just reached a point where I was like, “Damn, I just don’t like this anymore. I don’t exactly need to feel like I have guns to my head all the time. I can actually enjoy this.” I was miserable. I hated everything. Taking a break was a train wreck because it was so hard to stop. I couldn’t just pull out of every fucking show I had booked or festival. So it was a little bit difficult, but I think that ultimately it was really great for me.
The biggest [incentive] was that I really liked my personal life. I’ve always relied on my work life because I hate my personal life. But now that I actually like the former, I feel more comfortable taking time. I’m also really fucking stubborn and very defiant. Everybody was like, “Alright, time to put more music out.” And I was like, “I’m not gonna do that. I’m actually quite sad.” I don’t want to fall into the puppet narrative of artists.
Your defiance is something that has made a lot of people really love and respect you. Have you always found it easy to stand your ground and stick up for yourself in these situations, or has it become easier as you’ve gotten older?
I think it was something I was born with and it’s always been my attitude, for better or for worse. I come across very self-assured, and I think in a lot of ways, I am. But I also, at the same time, just have the constant, nagging voice asking me if I’m fucking up, or if I’m not doing enough, or if I’m not good enough. I feel so different from how I’m perceived. Yes, I was self-assured enough to be like, “I’m gonna take time off and stop listening to people.” And also, whilst I was doing that, I was freaking the absolute fuck out every single day.
But also also having those boundaries means you give a lot of fucks.
I care so much about my career holistically. I care so much about making music and making good shit and, like, making sure that when I’m putting myself out there that I feel really connected to what I’m doing. I had just lost that [after the Snow Angel tour], and I was trying so desperately to find it, but it’s really difficult to do when you’re so underwater. I feel like not enough people give artists enough credit, maybe myself included, for running your own business. Like, yeah we make music and fuck-ass TikToks and do all this bullshit. And it is super fun. But ultimately we run really big operations.
What was it like to build that operation and experience the parts of being a pop star outside the studio?
I always thought when I was younger that I’m such a performer. I do love to be out there, but I actually like the making of an album much more than I do the promotion and seeing it come to life. It’s not like I don’t like promoting it and sharing it and like talking about it, but there’s something that is scary, again. No matter how calm, cool, collected, bitchy, or defiant I come off, I’m deeply terrified.
I always thought that was something that was so clear about me, until I started being publicly perceived in a more massive way, and then you become aware of how you come across, more so than you probably should be. It’s nice watching things come to life, but to be completely honest, it’s so fucking scary. It’s difficult managing so many people who all really want to work together and be great. It’s hard to trust the process and to trust the universe, and also constantly be slutting myself out. Sometimes I’m happy and other times I feel like I’m underwater and gonna cry.
Is there any element of how people perceive you that shocks you?
I learned that people really get things wrong and are really loud about it. At first, I struggled with that because I would see so many things about my life and experiences online that were so untrue, and it made me so frustrated and so angry. I felt this deep need to defend myself, and then I started to realize that I actually don’t owe [anyone] my life story. I used to think [there was] no way things can be misconstrued that much. It is kind of interesting and funny watching everyone’s theories all the time. I’m like, “How on God’s green earth did you get here?”
What’s the funniest theory you’ve seen recently?
I did a Ziwe interview. It’s such a satirical show, and she’s such a fucking talented comedian. And after that interview came out, I saw a video that was like, “I can’t believe Reneé would say that we should euthanize old people.” And I’m like, hang on. Did you guys miss the part that this is satire? I also said that we should stab people more. Do you genuinely believe I think we should stab people more and euthanize the old? Are we fucking stupid? I actually find it entertaining, but it does shock me sometimes.
What terrifies you most about getting Bite Me out in the world?
I love it so much. I worked so hard on it, and I had so much fun making it that I think the hard part is not shooting myself in the foot by getting really anxious about it. I feel like I made music from places that were really scary for me, not to sound like such a pick-me. So to put it out into the world, and not know if it’s going to be received in the way that it feels for me is scary.
People seem to be receiving the singles well so far.
I really struggle to be able to feel it. No matter how many times anybody tells me that it’s going so well, the deeply rooted fear of not being enough or not being good enough takes over in my brain.
What are the exciting, happy moments that have broken through that feeling?
When we put the tour on sale, and sold out some of those venues so quickly, that was nice. I remember I actually was really happy for a couple minutes, and then it went to shit. But I had a couple of fleeting moments of joy.
Part of what makes your personal life so much better now seems to be the really powerful group of friends surrounding you, like Megan Thee Stallion, Cara Delevingne, and your former Sex Lives co-star Alyah Chanelle Scott. What has it been like finding people in the industry you can lean on as much as your childhood friends?
I pride myself on having good friends. I pride myself on having protective friends. I have a massive case of impostor syndrome that I thought would go away by now, but it’s not fucking going away. But I have so many friends in the industry who are so lovely and fucking amazing. I don’t really reach out to them, because I feel like I’m bothering people. What I appreciate about Cara and Meg and friends like that is they’ve been such champions in my [life] and have made a real effort to be in my life and reassure me that they love me.
