BITE ME - Reneé Rapp
- Daniela Roux
- 48 minutes ago
- 6 min read
Reneé Rapp has returned with her sophomore album and an even more iconic attitude on life. This emerging superstar, previously known for her EP Everything to Everyone and album Snow Angel, introduces her evolved artistry with this album. Her record, and its punchy title, is a body of work commendable for streamlining her previous project’s vulnerability into a feisty façade. The Mic’s Daniela Roux reviews BITE ME.
Reneé Rapp's opener, Leave Me Alone, sets the tone for this album: no one can tell her what to do. Rapp describes a moment when she ‘was taking advice from way too many people’ and it left her with an important question: ‘why am I listening to y’all?’ As a freshly famous singer who has been deeply embedded in the arts from childhood, Rapp has been open about dealing with the struggles of fame. She describes that ‘you don’t have an option’ to opt out of commitments: ‘... you don’t get to just [...] take a sick day when you’re sick’. However, during this album’s development, Rapp’s partner and fellow musician (Towa Bird) reminded her that she ‘can chill and[…] take as long of a time to make this’. By beginning with such a poignant and bratty anthem, the rest of the album is placed within an important context of individuality.
Her next track, entitled Mad, exudes a similar vigour to its precursor. The pseudo-rock production paired with Rapp’s cheeky tone of singing perfectly encapsulates the crushing feeling of being neglected by a partner. She writes about being on the receiving end of behaviour from someone too suffocated by their own feelings. She obsesses over moments she could have had with her partner, had they been less caught up in their anger. Thus, we have transitioned from her powerful opener about emotional freedom into a song about being denied it. This track’s theme of neglect is beautifully emulated in her next track, Why Is She Still Here? This song explores what it means to be with a partner who is not just preoccupied with their feelings, but their past. Rapp manages to depict her painfully human concerns under the song’s main point of focus: the flawless vocals and catchy melodies.
For the rest of the album, she continues this blend of vulnerability and impulsivity. Between Why Is She Still Here? and Sometimes, Rapp manages to exceed the already personal exploration of abandonment. To me, Sometimes is the sequel to Why Is She Still Here?. It is the most raw exploration of devoting oneself to someone who is not entirely yours. By encapsulating that moment of heartbreak with emphasis, she advocates for people to find the strength to leave toxic relationships. With this poignant end, the creative decision to transition into Kiss It Kiss It, in which the first lyric is ‘I met a girl out on the East Side’, is a masterclass in storytelling. It is emblematic of that old-age adage: ‘when a door closes, a window opens’. Rapp’s bravery to end a situation that was harmful is rewarded with a new beginning. Good Girl further portrays new beginnings, particularly the more emotional side. She self-reflexively lists all of the ways her new love is changing her. The slow and mellow pop beat is an attenuated version of the previous song. Her cautiousness is felt through the production, and it is clear that she is feeling trepidation.
Her next song, I Can’t Have You Around Me Anymore, is a beautiful ballad and another important account of closure. Antithetically to Sometimes, Rapp writes from the perspective of someone stuck between two loves. As a music lover, I have always admired Rapp’s authenticity and multifacetedness. She is not a person who filters herself – especially not in her art. This album showcases that humans can exist in polarities. She can simultaneously know how it feels to be neglected by her partner and yet also be the one crossing her partner’s boundaries. Perhaps this song’s tenderness is why Rapp felt ‘if anyone else had wrote this song, [she’d] be livid’. This subjection to exposure is punctuated by the track entitled Shy, which, much like Good Girl, explores what it means to be totally transformed by a new relationship. Rapp notes that she wrote this song ‘about falling in love with [her] girlfriend’, and so it ‘started as a ballad’. Like Good Girl, Shy has a euphonious melody suited for the undertone of sensitivity.
"Her sophomore album is an important lesson in living life on your own accord, confronting your flaws, and refusing destructive situations."
The next song, At Least I’m Hot, is one you'll want to listen to several times. It takes inspiration from those pop classic in which the lyrics totally juxtapose the production. Rapp’s assessment of this song is that she chose to ‘use the secondary emotion’ she could pinpoint whilst writing as a buffer between listeners and her genuine feelings. This is a characterisation that I believe can be applied to the whole album. If you aren’t paying enough attention, the glittery pop beat could almost distract you from her honest exploration of her struggles. She talks about sour experiences with her ‘agent’, ‘ex’, and crying. Thereby, we begin to realise that the titular chorus ‘At Least I’m Hot’ is not what we might initially label as conceited. My interpretation of this song is that whilst her life is falling apart, she still maintains unwavering confidence (her ‘secondary emotion’). She is focused on her career, looking good, and most importantly, feeling comfortable in her skin. Like many artists, Rapp believes that one is ‘at constant war with yourself’, and this song becomes an absolute anthem for those who feel like the world around them is falling apart. Much like Leave Me Alone, this song is about living and creating on your own terms. She dictates her mindset, not her circumstance.
The next two tracks, I Think I Like You Better When You’re Gone and That’s So Funny, though sonically different, depict the same message: the energetic burnout from toxic relationships. Once again, we see this important theme of closure. I Think I Like You Better When You’re Gone explores the crippling realisation that the person you love has been disrupting your tranquility. She is enlightened to the fact that she only truly finds peace in her partner’s absence. That’s So Funny is a heart-wrenching ballad and perhaps the most solemn song on the album. Melodically, it reminds me a lot of her album Snow Angel, with a stripped-back production and punctuating vocals. She addresses a partner who exploited her heart, warning this person that she has sworn off a reunion.
Her closing track, You’d Like That Wouldn’t You, parallels her opener (Leave Me Alone) in many ways. The timbre of the guitar alongside her voice’s strong tone is central to this song’s power. She boldly demeans exes’ karmic wishes for her (or what she hypothesises they may be). She toys with the idea of showing up on their wedding day and groveling at their feet. This song is a message to her exes preying on the possibility of her misery. She refuses to be defined by their ‘pathetic’ fantasies.
In Zach Lowe's interview, Rapp described that whilst making this album she felt like: ‘I had to like get my equilibrium back.’ In my opinion, BITE ME is Rapp’s best work to date because it is a perfect account of the journey to ‘equilibrium’. Her sophomore album is an important lesson in living life on your own accord, confronting your flaws, and refusing destructive situations. Rapp’s album will make you dance, cry, reminisce, become enraged, feel graceful, and more than anything, prioritise your emotional freedom.
If you are interested in experiencing all of those things live, she embarks on her tour next year with four UK shows:
18 March 2026: AO Arena, Manchester
19 March 2026: OVO Arena Wembley, London
20 March 2026: OVO Arena Wembley, London
22 March 2026: 3Arena, Dublin
Daniela Roux
Edited by Daniela Roux
Album cover photo courtesy of Reneé Rapp, YouTube video courtesy of Apple Music
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