After the release of his debut album Language, MNEK felt as transparent as glass. At least, that’s how the memory stands eight years later. “I felt like everybody was laughing at me,” the British singer, songwriter, and producer wrote on Substack early
last week. “Like ‘aw Uzo wanted to be a popstar.’ It reiterated all these doubts I had of myself anyway.” It took him nearly a decade to brush off the criticism around the record to confidently step into the spotlight again.
MNEK’s second album, Bulldozer, arrived just a few days before the stream of consciousness essay he published. When we meet at Soho House in New York, the 31-year-old is a week removed from the release and finally feeling a bit more settled. His relationship with pop stardom has changed drastically over the years. Any hurt feelings he might have been carrying have dissolved, along with the barrier of shame that suggested he should be self-conscious in his pursuit of success. “Everyone needs to know what they get into it for,” he tells Rolling Stone.
Careers in pop aren’t built on thin skin and hypersensitivity. They require a level of pushback, confidence that borders on delusion, and an almost grandiose sense of self. You have to want it — and figuring out what it even means has become a primary conversation within pop. Not only are hungry artists not shying away from their starry-eyed dreams, they’re breaking the fourth wall by writing manifestations and commentaries about pop stardom into their music.
MNEK’s thesis statement on Bulldozer is “The Wall,” an oscillating, choir-backed dance track about being unafraid to take up space. “Ain’t asking for permission, make some room,” he sings, later poking fun at the gatekeepers who used to be in his way: “I know my shit is hot/I got these industry white man on my waiting list/Gotta be my own hype man like I rate my shit.” He fortifies his stance on “Reverse,” a killer club track about getting even the most uptight, stiff men on the dance floor to make something shake to the sound of his songs.
“There’s a bit of voyeurism and being provocative in that way, right? You want to shake the table. There’s a level of confidence that I want other people to have via the music, but also it’s so much for me,” MNEK says. “It’s for me to feel like, OK, I can step into these rooms where they’re super heteronormative and very straight down the line, and be exactly as I am — and be able to not only belong in there, but to actually conquer and be something of note in those types of worlds.”
There are plenty of barricades built with the explicit goal of keeping certain types of artists from access ing those rooms. Those who don’t meet the traditional criteria of a “pop star” are often pushed to the sidelines while budgets and opportunities are streamlined to acts who are considered safer, or more predictable, and thus easier to market. The more complex an artist’s creative identity, the less anyone really knows what to do with them. Tinashe is also among the artists pushing back and clearing a lane for herself. She even made it easy for anyone unsure about how to classify her — her eighth studio album is aptly titled Popstar.
Tinashe has been in pursuit of pop stardom for more than a decade, catching fleeting glimpses of it over the years. Her hit singles “2 On” and “Nasty” were released 10 years apart. That’s a long time to be working towards getting everyone else to see what you know to be true of yourself. “I felt like I started in this very pure place when I thought of where I was going to go in my life as this beautiful thing,” Tinashe told Rolling Stone earlier this month. “As the industry side and the business side of it creeps in, it gets a bit less glamorous. It gets a bit less like rose-colored glasses.”
“Don’t fall in love with a pop star/Didn’t know we’d get so far,” Tinashe sings on “Popstar,” the title and standout track from the album. “Tell me, is it everything you thought it’d be?” This question creates persistent tension across the album. It shows up on “Too Easy,” where she pushes back on skeptics who don’t view her as a pop star. “I know that I’m a superstar,” she sings. “They hate to see I’ve come so far.” It’s also present on “Empty Stadiums,” a recollection of a nightmare about waiting and wanting. “I’ve been singing so long and nobody hears it,” she sings. “And I’m standing on the stage just waiting for applause that’ll never exist.”
“Tinashe, with her calling her album Popstar, it’s genius because you know there’s all that lore about her inspiring all these K-pop stars and her being the template for all this shit,” MNEK says, referencing recurring discourse about other artists drawing inspiration from her both musically and visually. “If that’s not what pop music is, I don’t know what else she’s gonna call it. She is a pop star. She’s a Black woman who’s making pop music from all different diaspora — dance, R&B, electronica. But there’ll be someone who looks at her and says, ‘She ain’t a pop star.’ And you have to answer why you’re saying that.”
When MNEK conjures the image of a pop star in his mind, anyone from Rihanna to Beyoncé to Drake fits the mold. “The meaning of the word has changed because the monolith culture has changed,” he says. “And so pop star has to be however you interpret it.” He rattles off a general checklist that defines it by desire — desire to play to big crowds, to be a household name, to perform. “It sounds weird because you’re so used to hearing them associated with different genres,” MNEK says. “But pop star is beyond genre.” Throughout our conversation, he often deploys “pop star” as a verb — like it’s a clear and intentional action that can be taken, rather than a label bestowed by some cultural consortium.
“That is how you pop star,” MNEK says while talking about Adéla, another breakout star who is unafraid to lead with her deepest desires. “You say, ‘This is my thing that no one else can take away from me.’” The 22-year-old released her debut album Prima earlier this month. Adéla has already found sticky hits with “Nicole Kidman,” on which she boasts, “That’s why I put pop princess on my license plate,” and “Ain’t In LA,” a wistful singalong that made her the first Slovak artist to appear on the Billboard Hot 100. “I like what Adéla’s coming out with as far as the shamelessness and wanting to be a pop star,” MNEK says. It’s a recurring theme across Prima, lest you forget just how badly she wants it. In this instance, it is both status and armor.
“I wanna pop off so these big mouths can’t say shit,” Adéla spits on “KGB.” But her best summation of the pop star experience comes when she drops the glam entirely on “Therapy.” It’s where she gets candid about having to sit through meetings with people who “hold the keys to my future” despite not even really grasping what she wants that future to look like. “They are old white men,” she drawls through syrupy autotune on the track. “And they’re so annoying.” The removal of the rose-colored glasses that Tinashe mentioned seems to be a rite of passage. The actual performance of pop, whether on stage or in a studio, makes up such a small percentage of job requirements. The rest of the time is spent advocating for their place and perfecting their visual identity.
MNEK has sat in his fair share of those meetings, both as a leading artist and a close collaborator to acts like FLO and Zara Larsson. He’d bite his tongue, but think to himself, “You’re just talking. You don’t know a thing about music.” He’s had the same thoughts while reading comments from pop fans. When Bulldozer came out, he scrolled through the forums, particularly drawn in by a thread that asked why he doesn’t receive the same support as someone like Troye Sivan. “I read the answers. They had all types of things to say. They’re like, ‘Troye makes better music,’ or ‘MNEK is ugly,’” he says. “But that’s real, that’s how they measure this shit. A pop star is supposed to be attractive. A pop star is supposed to fit all these quotes. But no one’s gonna tell me I’m not.”
It’s that sense of certainty and self-assurance that is making pop stardom a reality for these artists. It’s the transparent act of pop star-ing, as MNEK would say. He witnessed it firsthand with Larsson, whose fifth album Midnight Sun secured her a long-awaited true breakthrough. Just before that point, it was becoming harder to keep up the pop star pretense without seeing fruitful results beyond a few viral surges for songs that were released a decade ago. “This was the album where they were like, OK, we really need to see a jolt, we need to see like a shift in a certain direction from everyone,” says MNEK, who worked as a songwriter and producer on the album. “Everyone felt like this album had to move a dial in some way.”
There’s one song in particular MNEK mentions from the record titled “The Ambition,” on which Larsson sings, “I’m never satisfied ’cause I want number one, doesn’t everyone? … My dreams so big, they’re supersized, I chase them like I chase the light.” “It was very much a commentary on her standing as a pop star,” MNEK says. “She was in a make or break position.” She leaned further into the conversation on PinkPantheress’ “Stateside” remix, nodding to her opening slot on Tate McRae’s tour and her changing perception of the American dream.
“That could only happen off of all the pop star-ing she was doing,” MNEK says. Pop stars putting their starry-eyed dreams under the spotlight might be the best way for them to land there themselves. The pop star-ing is paying off.
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