“Tell me who I am.”
That’s what Addison Rae demands of us at the beginning of “Fame is a Gun,” the final single before the release of her debut album Addison (2025). And for many listeners, that’s the central question looming over Rae’s music: Who, exactly, is she?
Rae first grew to popularity posting dance videos on TikTok—a platform not particularly known for producing the finest caliber of musicians. In the years since the app’s rise, we’ve seen an excess of influencers and microcelebrities attempt (and fail) to pivot into music. Even Rae’s 2021 debut single, “Obsessed,” elicited what can only be described as unfavorable reviews.
But four years later, Addison is a far cry from the pop flop mediocrity of Rae’s first foray into the music industry. The album is 33 minutes of lush, shimmery dance pop that paints a new picture of the former TikTok star: one that’s girlish yet grown, referential yet esoteric, and egotistical yet irresistibly likeable. Rae’s debut album also marks a clear shift in intention: crafted alongside an all-female creative team, including producers ELVIRA and Luka Kloser, the album feels cohesive, considered, and colorful. Rising fiery from the ashes of her initial stumbles, Rae makes a compelling case for herself as an artist who holds a deep understanding of pop as both art and persona.
Prior to the release of the album, Rae put out five singles, and each one delivered a strong dose of pop perfection. The rollout began with “Diet Pepsi,” a soft, sultry love song that channels Lana Del Rey in its lyricism. Singing about “ripped blue jeans,” “[red] cherries,” and “losing all [her] innocence in the backseat,” Rae draws on classic Americana imagery and motifs of vulnerability, lust, and obsession. But while the themes may feel familiar, the sound is undeniably Addison, with sleek, electronic production and feathery vocals laced with a tasteful amount of autotune.
“Aquamarine” continues in this vein of sensuality, but the song trades the retro eroticism of “Diet Pepsi” for an otherworldly atmosphere, as Rae whispers, “The world is my oyster / Baby, come touch the pearl.” The production embraces a dreamier soundscape, like the music is drifting in from another room—or, fittingly, like a siren song reverberating through the water. The next two singles, “High Fashion” and “Headphones On,” push into darker synth-pop territory with moodier progressions and a more melancholy edge, but they still fit into the hypnotic mystery world Rae has fashioned.
Of the bunch, “Fame is a Gun” is the most club-ready, driven by a lively kick drum and an earworm of a hook that help round out the run of singles with a bang. But with such a stellar set-up to the album, expectations for the coming album tracks were difficult to live up to. On Addison, these singles stand out as some of the most memorable tracks, while many of the others struggle to keep up, fighting hard not to fade into the background as filler.
This doesn’t entirely discount the rest of the album, however. The opening track, “New York,” for instance, is a slow-burn, sexy dance hit in three acts. Rae repeats in the chorus, “Love New York, love New York / Love New York, love New York / Feel so free, feel so free / Feel so free, it’s my religion,” first in a low hush, then over an intense, rising drumbeat, before finally crashing into a cathartic beat drop.
Equally fun is “Money is Everything,” a lighthearted love song dedicated to Rae’s carefree, material-girl lifestyle. She name-drops her inspirations, Madonna, Lana Del Rey, and Lady Gaga, drawing a lineage between herself and the iconic pop stars who came before her. In doing so, she weighs in on the debate over who Addison Rae is to contend that, if nothing else, she’s a girl who knows her references. And by aligning herself with women who have owned hyper-feminine, theatrical, over-the-top pop, Rae stakes her claim as a scholar of the genre.
Taken as a whole, the album plays with a particular studied messiness, from its references and lyrical inspirations to delicate vocals and high-gloss production. On Addison, Rae knows exactly who she wants to be. She’s the effortless, slightly offbeat but nonetheless hot manic pixie dream girl. She’s Carrie Bradshaw and the girl next door. Her hair is tousled, her lipstick is smudged, and the lace from her underwear peeks out just above the waistband of her bootcut jeans.
Now, is that who Addison Rae is? There’s no way to know for sure, but the better question might be: Does it work? On Addison, it does. Whether or not the persona is fully authentic, the character, the themes, and the visuals—all mysterious, hazy, and covered in day-old body glitter—come from a place of real creative instinct. The skepticism surrounding her is fair, but with this project, Rae’s work speaks for itself, and it’s clear that she’s no longer playing pop star. Addison defines Rae not just as a legitimate pop artist but one with a vision worth paying attention to.
Voice’s Choices: “Money is Everything,” “Aquamarine,” “Fame is a Gun”
