Reneé Rapp:
‘I’m really fucking stubborn and very defiant’

In some ways, Reneé Rapp was burnt out before she even 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 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, out now.

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.”

Bite Me is already looking like one of the year’s most exciting pop albums – led by the effectively punky lead single, ‘Leave Me Alone’. There’s also an autumn arena tour, and as she gears up for both, Rapp reflects on the album, her rising guitar-hero girlfriend Towa Bird, and the truth about her no-fucks-given style.

You recorded your debut album after 14-hour days on set for Mean Girls. What was it like having more space to write and record Bite Me?

I started seeking my own approval, which was the biggest difference. 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 able to write songs from experiences that absolutely fucking 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. Not to sound like [US TV series] 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 terrorised 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 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?

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. I used to hate my personal life, so I used to drown myself in 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. 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.

Before you released Snow Angel, you were feeling burnt out. What was it like to take a break before 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 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’m also really fucking stubborn and very defiant. Everybody was like, “All right, 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 love and respect you. Have you always found it easy to stand your ground?

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, while I was doing that, I was freaking the absolute fuck out every single day.

What was it like to build your own operation and experience being a pop star outside of 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. 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. 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 realise 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. After that interview came out, I saw a video that was like, “I can’t believe Reneé would say that we should euthanise 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 euthanise the old? Are we fucking stupid?” I actually find it entertaining, but it does shock me sometimes.

You seem to have a powerful group of friends, like Megan Thee Stallion, Cara Delevingne, and your former Sex Lives co-star Alyah Chanelle Scott.

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. 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.