Ariana Grande Came Back Cold-Hearted in ‘Yes, And?’
People are so lost, they’re in her business.
What might be on Ariana Grande’s 2024 In-and-Out list? Her first solo single since 2020, “Yes, And?” offers some insight. IN: Minding your own business. OUT: Sticking your nose into other people’s personal lives. This is solid advice for any year, but it likely holds a deeper resonance for the 30-year-old pop star right now. Blogs [tugs collar] and rabid Reddit commenters alike spent the latter half of 2023 side-eying Grande’s personal life, namely her divorce and apparent new relationship with Ethan Slater, her co-star from the upcoming film adaptation of Wicked.
Without offering specifics, the first taste of Grande’s upcoming seventh record responds to her critics and the rumor mill with a polite but pointed STFU. “I’m so done with caring what you think,” she sings early on. “No, I won’t hide underneath your projections or change my most authentic life.” It’s far from the first time that Grande has appealed to a collective sense of empathy — she just wants us to feel lit inside, okay? — but it’s a sentiment worth repeating as obsessive standom has reached excessive heights in recent years.
The track reunites Grande with producers Max Martin and Ilya Salmanzadeh, who brought sharp, hook-heavy R&B to 2019’s Thank U, Next. Together, they craft a sparkly house groove that channels Blond Ambition–era Madonna. Though “Yes, And?” does not directly interpolate “Vogue” as was initially reported, it evokes Madge’s 1990 hit via a familiar snare and a downtempo, spoken-word break. It’s not the first time Grande has walked the fine line of interpolation and inspiration either. Recall, if you will, the case of “7 rings,” Grande’s 2019 hit that interpolated “My Favorite Things” while also stirring up several allegations of plagiarism. While Rodgers and Hammerstein were explicitly credited in that instance, Madonna is merely in the air here.
Like “Vogue,” “Yes, And?” doesn’t sweat so much as glisten. After a lengthy instrumental intro, the track embraces a disco-lite groove punctuated by the occasional sparkly, cascading synth line that will likely dominate pop music post-Renaissance. Asserting her place as pop’s preeminent theater girlie, she teases out the titular phrase and imbues the guiding principle of improv comedy with a coy wink. There’s not a “yuh” to be heard, nor is there a return to the lubed-up horndog energy that defined 2020’s Positions. The closest she comes is during the break: “Why do you care so much whose dick I ride?” (Am I the only one reminded of Gypsy Rose Blanchard’s recent clapback at her husband’s haters?) Here, Grande is so unbothered, so self-assured, that she delivers a majority of the track in a silky coo, unleashing her signature belt only in the final moments. However subdued, it’s an invitation to put on your lipstick, gather your longest extensions into a tight ponytail, and hit the dance floor.
Related