After taking himself out (again) in Nashville traffic after his disastrous Vanity Fair interview with Hawk Tuah, Andy Warhol’s Rolling Stone interview with Chappell Roan had him walking away slightly more hopeful in the state of humanity in 2024.
It’s at 9:07pm on a Friday night in a back alley of The Clit Club in her hometown of bumblefuck nowhere Missouri that I meet this “pop girlie” of the moment. (I know, I was just as shocked as you that one exists here.) I mistake her in a lavish Marie Antoniette get up as one of the drag queens performing tonight. Or perhaps that’s the whole point of “the project,” as she calls it. This powerhouse, ACTUAL talent (looking at you, Hawk Tuah—she has a podcast now?!) wears her art on her sleeve. Literally. And this fellow artist is here for it.
ANDY WARHOL: Geez. You could’ve dressed up more for the occasion.
CHAPPELL ROAN: Hi Andy. Big fan.
AW: Likewise. Your album is, how do you say, a banger.
CR: Oh my god you’re hilarious. Thank you. I have your art on my ceiling.
AW: Honored.
At this point in our convo, Chappell stops for a second to break a drunk guys hand clean in half for touching her ass. I would’ve helped but it all happened so fast.
CR: (Over drunk guy screams and cursing of her birth) Sorry about that. I thought my very public message about this type of predatory behavior would’ve put an end to this bullshit.
AW: I read about that. I don’t know how one exists as a pop girlie in this day and age. I’m sorry. Good on you for speaking up.
CR: It’s not just pop girlies. It’s all women. Its just basic human fucking decency, you know? I mean seriously. What year is it?
AW: Yas. Slay, queen.
Chappell laughs for far too long. I do not know why.
CR: Ok, Andy I love you and all, but please stop.
We make our way inside the club through the backdoor with her handlers at the helm. A well-oiled covert mission. Hair and makeup plumped up even more. Dancers getting in place.
AW: Alright, getting down to it, if you could turn one of your songs into a painting which one would it be?
CR: Oh, love this question. “Hot To Go” or “Pink Pony Club” would definitely be a painting. I’m thinking something abstract, like, a canvas covered in bold reds and blacks with, maybe, a giant pair of red lips, like they’re about to say something really scandalous. Maybe throw in like a rainbow-colored deconstructed pony or unicorn for fun. And a disco ball. Why not.
AW: I almost want to be the one to create those but alas, I’m normally dead.
CR: Bummer, yeah.
AW: I know, right? Alright, which artist would you want to collaborate with—living or dead.
CR: Besides you?
AW: Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, darling.
CR: Sasha Colby, obvi. I got the whole favorite artists favorite artist thing from her. She’s my hero. I know she came out for Hot To Go in Seattle back in June but like, I want to make all the art under the sun with her. She’s just such an icon. Obsessed.
AW: Love her. I’m sure a future collab is imminent. Ok, now don’t hate me for asking darling, but you know I have to ask this next one. You’re under criticism for cancelling some European shows at the very last minute to rehearse for the VMAs. What do you have to say to any disgruntled fans?
CR: I say they can fuck right off.
At this point her very nervous PR person who can’t be more than 23 comes over and asks me to redact that.
CR: Jenna, stop. No, keep it in, seriously. They need to know that if you’re a true fan of mine, you’d understand that it’s a no brainer as a career move so I can bring them bigger and better art. It’s not like I canceled the shows forever. They’re all rescheduled. Give me some grace guys, for fucks sake.
At this point a very no nonsense stage manager with a terrible haircut and tattoos to match comes over and tells Chappell she has two minutes. I realize I should not have wasted those earlier softballs and immediately regret everything.
AW: Unapologetic. I love it! Ok I know you have to go, but what do you want to say to the public at large in this monumental moment in your career?
CR: That this has been ten years in the making. Stop saying I’m an overnight success. I worked my ass off for this. And I just want to be a regular girl. Is that so hard?
AW: Good luck, babe.
She winks her big lashed glittery eye at me and steps on stage. This artist immediately wishes he hadn’t forgotten earplugs at what happens next as the crowd loses their minds in an earthquake-inducing fever. I get the feeling that she was a surprise guest. Or maybe this is just a regular occurrence for the hometown hero. She brings the house down. Almost literally.
All this is to say, Chappell Roan, you make cool art. And people are willing to pay money to hear you perform it. But that doesn’t entitle them to grab you in public or stalk your sister at work. Anyone who thinks it does has probably never stopped to consider that famous people, are still just people. And those predatory “fans” have certainly never have not had anyone grab them by surprise in an airport or in a back alley of a gay bar in Missouri.
It’s a beautiful thing, connecting with art and having a true appreciation for the people who make it. But outside of that context, just let them be.
And so, Rolling Stone, thank you for restoring my faith in humanity after that shit show with Hawk T—wait, I’m sorry, what’s this I’m just reading on the news feeds? Con artist / convict Anna Delvey is going to be on Dancing with the Stars?
Off to the nearest busy intersection I go again.
I LOVE THAT FOR YOU! PODCAST CORNER
Welp, I guess there’s no better way to end the Tuesday Tea Summer Series than to finally put myself in the hot seat, interviewed by my therapist-to-be husband .
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DOCU-SERIES: LOLLA: The Story of Lollapalooza
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A fascinating and timely listen given this seasons The Bachelorette epic fail. You can check it out here.
BOOK: Elin Hilderbrand, The Five-Star Weekend
Summer is still technically here and don’t forget it! A great beach read to keep the vibes going.
Logline: After tragedy strikes, Hollis Shaw gathers four friends from different stages in her life to spend an unforgettable weekend on Nantucket.
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