A Consideration of the Sad Girl Musician – An Analysis

Lucy Dacus (Left): Photo courtesy of NPR. Mitski (Right): Photo courtesy of Billboard.

“I need somebody to remember my name / After all that I can do for them is done / I need someone to remember me / I need something bigger than the sky.”

With 2018’s Be The Cowboy, indie-rock icon Mitski arguably cemented the revival of ‘sad girl’ music. Mistki’s music outpours with feelings of unreachable desire and frantic desperation. Physically, her performances combine theatrics, costuming, and choreography to express grand, all-encompassing themes. And yet, Mitski’s work, along with that of her contemporaries and predecessors, so often faces simplistic and reductive categorization, flattening her artistry into an unchanging melancholy. The sad girl trope encompasses a wide-ranging variety of musicians who utilize their work to express emotional experiences through poignant lyricism and sound. Evolving from the personas and musicianship of various 20th century women, the sad girl genre prevails in modern culture with a sense of relatability and authenticity. 

Most popularized with Fiona Apple and Alanis Morrisette, the sad girl genre revels in the confessional and reflective work of prior artists. The lovesick ballads of Barbara Mason and Brenda Lee laid the foundation for the genre with flowing vocals, spoken interludes, and weepy strings. Mason’s 1965 hit “Sad Sad Girl” even foreshadows this modern-day designation; “I’m a sad, sad girl / cause you did me wrong,” she laments. However, the tragic femme archetype most visibly materialized with singer Nico (Christa Päffgen)– the avant-garde emblem of the troubled artist.

Photo courtesy of G Scene.

With a vacuous and harrowed tone, Christa Päffgen ’s sparse vocals on The Velvet Underground and Nico (1967) launched a tumultuous career. Built upon her troubling childhood and nomadic lifestyle, Päffgen  was prescribed an enchanting, mysterious, and, at times, dangerous persona. Part model, part singer, and entirely the muse of the underground culture, Nico became known for her mysterious persona and her involvement in the New York factory scene. As time passed, however, her charming persona would wane under the effects of controlling management and drug addiction, but this only fanned the flames of fanaticism and evoked the image of a tortured artist. Nico’s troublesome life, to some, conveys a sense of depth in her work, and cultivates an intense fascination with her beliefs and creations. Her messy, raw lifestyle is seen as a basis for authenticity and genuine feeling in her music. 

Nico’s star image worked to construct the “sad girl” as a mystifying and troubled musician– an emotionally intense, conceptually unreal persona which would ultimately be revived through the retro melancholy of the 21st century femme fatale: Lana Del Rey. 

Photo courtsey of It’s Nice That.

Often singing about Lou Reed, Marilyn Monroe, and other icons of 1960s culture, Lana Del Rey’s curated persona conjures a world of troubled relationships and personal instability. In the controversial Ultraviolence lyric, “He hit me and it felt like a kiss,” Del Rey repurposes a 1962 song titled as such, summoning imagery of vintage Americana and romanticizing 1960s nostalgia. Themes of abuse, drugs, and sex permeate each of Del Rey’s releases, regardless of her relative disconnect from the world formed in her lyrics. She draws from film and history– as well as her time in New York club scenes– to glamourize a dramatic, fast-and-hard lifestyle. 

Lana Del Rey and Nico share opposite sides of the sorrowful femme persona. While both gritty, wild, and seductive, Lana’s persona romanticizes the happenings of Nico’s world. In this way, both women attract listeners with a dark mystique and taboo lyrics, but Del Rey’s polished celebrity image permits her the longevity that escaped Nico. Del Rey’s contributions brought the sad girl image to the forefront of modern culture, and laid the groundwork for the more personal work of artists to follow. 

Throughout the 2010s, the sad girl genre grew into a cultural phenomenon with Del Rey’s charismatic persona, and now encompasses the stylish, profound, and deeply personal work of artists like Phoebe Bridgers, Mitski, and Faye Webster. For these women, the characterization of “sad girl” often presents itself in a trivializing or condescending manner, but their music has evolved beyond Nico’s unsettled proclamations and Del Rey’s selective imaginings. Modern sad-girl music simultaneously promotes catharsis, holds a confessional allure, and brings a sense of authenticity that connects with listeners in an everyday manner.

Phoebe Bridgers (Left): Photo courtesy of With Drums and Color. Faye Webster (Right): Photo courtesy of the Guardian.

Over the past eighty decades, the sad girl genre has passed through various iterations, growing alongside the conditions of its artists and the interests of current culture. Each version of the genre encapsulates its own era of musicianship and performance, and adds depth to the category of woman-made pop music.

I’m an writer and photographer currently studying Radio-TV-Film at the University of Texas at Austin. Some of my favorite artists are Arctic Monkeys, Faye Webster, and Doja Cat. I take photos and write with Austin Underground of TSTV, and I love creating media with local zines. In my free time, I like to cook, play pickleball, and have picnics with friends.