Chappell Roan and the Cost of Being the “Too Much” Pop Star

By all accounts, Chappell Roan is having a breakout year. Her debut album The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess is the kind of record that builds a movement: queer, maximalist, irreverent, and personal. Her single “Good Luck, Babe!” became a streaming success and a generational mantra. She’s selling out venues, making appearances at major festivals, and helping redefine what modern pop performance can look like.
And yet, it feels like she isn’t happy enough.
In a new conversation with SZA for Interview Magazine, Roan admitted that public backlash, not toward her music, but toward her personality, is beginning to wear her down. “It makes me cry,” she said simply, after explaining that criticism about her artistry doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the internet’s reaction to her as a person. "I just didn’t realize I cared so much," she added.
It’s not the first time Roan’s visibility has come with a cost. Over the past few months, she’s called out photographers for being rude. She’s labeled certain fan behavior as invasive and creepy. She’s been vocal about the music industry’s lack of mental health support for artists. And after voicing criticism of the U.S. Supreme Court during her performance at Outside Lands, she faced a new wave of backlash online, since the audience is already getting tired of her constant complaints over every little thing that happens to her as an artist.
At some point, it is hard to define whether Roan is problematizing all the details involved in her new public life or if she is simply being picked apart for her expressive personality.
It’s about the cultural paradox she now embodies: we want pop stars to be authentic, but not too authentic. We want honesty, but only if it's digestible. We want rebellion, but with limits. And when an artist violates the unspoken contract of likeability, especially a young queer woman, they’re made to answer for it.
For Roan, whose performances are intentionally theatrical and whose lyrics are filled with a mix of longing and humor, the question now is about sustainability. Can someone like her continue being loud, emotional, deeply opinionated, and still survive the pressures of fame? There’s a larger trend here, too. Over the past decade, pop music has shifted toward relatability and openness. But now, we’re watching the cost of that openness in real time. For every viral moment or Instagram carousel, there’s a person navigating the fallout when the public decides they’re too much.
Yet, Chappell Roan is still performing, writing her second album, and speaking up. But she’s also clearly figuring out, in public, how much of herself she can give without breaking. Perhaps much of her journey is figuring out how to set and learn boundaries, from what she can take to filtering how much and to who she is willing to vent.
