Get Addison Rae off my phone. Get Tate McRae off my Spotify’s Smart Shuffle. The media and internet audiences alike tout these women as the next big thing in pop, glorifying them as the next incarnation of the Princess of Pop herself, Britney Spears.
I hate to break it to you all (actually, I’m truly delighting in this), but neither Rae nor McRae is going to ever make a breakthrough and become Britney Spears. It’s not just because their music is severely lacking a ‘wow’ factor (though even I can admit there are some bangers here and there). Instead, it’s because today’s culture will never allow someone to become that influential.
Let’s get to the most glaring issue that impedes their speculated rise to superstardom: the music and performance. Britney Spears both exemplified perfect pop through her music and delivered countless performances, all more iconic than the last. Her music is nothing short of pop genius, with creative beats, layered vocals and a catchiness that sticks in your head forever.
I could ask anyone across age ranges, and they likely could recognize the opening notes of “ … Baby One More Time” or the violin riff from “Toxic.” My 85-year-old grandma knows multiple Spears songs despite exclusively listening to ’80s show tunes; I guarantee you she has never heard a Rae or McRae song.
Not only are Spears’ songs musically addicting and long-cemented in culture, but her performances made them (and her) huge. Too often, people assume being a pop star is entirely based on the music; while music is a large portion of the pop star life, true pop stars are performers. Think about her set at the VMAs with a live snake, something women have used as a Halloween costume fodder for 20 years. I cannot think of a single McRae or Rae performance that has carried that level of impact. And in their defense, it’s not entirely their fault.
Now, I know it’s not particularly nice to compare artists, especially female ones, with each other. Sometimes, comparative cultural analysis focused on women can lead deep into misogynistic territory. Ultimately, McRae and Rae are both young musicians who deserve time to grow and develop their own artistry. Yet, this unfair comparison does nothing but hurt their potential careers.
I have never seen either of them live, so I can’t entirely judge their performances from a personal view. Since we live in a world with the internet, I have seen clips of them performing and feel it's fair to somewhat review them on that. As a former child dancer, McRae is admittedly electric to watch. She does have the dancing level of Spears, yet her music lacks the overt pop catchiness that Spears delivers so well. She almost has a tendency to whisper-sing, which, of course, isn’t inherently bad. The vocals just impede its true hit status — something we see with songs easily karaoke-ed and screamed.
As for Rae, her music does have some semblance of perfect pop; her vocals are fine, and her beats are good. Her issue is her lack of giving a great or even good performance. Recently at the Grammys, while nominated for best new artist, Rae gave a performance that was, at worst, terrible and, at best, forgettable. Her vocals were shaky and her dancing was nothing special. That should not be happening for an artist on the Grammys stage. I understand she’s young, but if Spears and countless other stars were able to give iconic performances at her age, there’s really no excuse.
And, truthfully, both Rae and McRae’s music is remarkably bland and generic pop. Yes, some of their music is decent and viral on TikTok and the charts. None of it has managed to break through on a greater scale, though, one where music becomes so iconic that there isn’t a question of its place in the cultural zeitgeist.
As I mentioned earlier, this really isn’t McRae and Rae’s fault. Rather, the way pop culture operates in our post-COVID and TikTok-centered world contains no infrastructure for a Britney Spears to emerge. With the internet, monolithic culture died. Before, record labels and radio stations determined who was given the airtime to become the next big thing. They weren’t the deciding factor on superstardom, but they operated as a collective area for the public to find the stars they exclusively listened to. With the internet, influencers and musicians get record deals if they manage to draw enough views and attention. Although this helps us discover new artists and stars (think Chappel Roan and how virality helped her), it also creates an oversaturation of one-hit wonders and stars who are so-so.
Additionally, because part of culture is the scale of variety on the internet, we don’t all gravitate towards a few people to hold as superstars. In the past, icons like Michael Jackson, Madonna and Spears were watched and listened to by almost everyone — grandparents to kids all knew their music and faces. Now, there are no definitive stars that everyone knows. I would argue that Taylor Swift, Beyoncé and Lady Gaga (all came to prominence in the 2010s) are the last beneficiaries of our monoculture.
Even if Rae and McRae had the skills and sheer talent to become the next big stars, the lack of monoculture means they would never reach the sheer influence and fame of a Britney Spears. That level of pop stardom is dying, and will likely never exist again.
Monoculture dying is bittersweet. While we have new opportunities and methods to find new artists (seriously, I would be so sad without Noah Kahan and Olivia Rodrigo), we are no longer united in our love of a select few superstars. Our deep divisions must extend to our music, I suppose.
Kate LaGatta is a freshman in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be reached at klagatta@cornellsun.com.
Kate LaGatta is a member of the Class of 2029 in the College of Arts and Sciences. She is a staff writer for the Arts & Culture department and can be reached at klagatta@cornellsun.com.
