When Olivia Rodrigo revealed the cover of her second album, Guts, some fans shot off complaints about how the artwork, a portrait of Rodrigo posed against a shadowy violet backdrop, was too similar to the cover of 2021’s Sour. The expectation that every new pop record must possess its own unmistakable aesthetic, heralding the arrival of a distinct new “era,” feels overwhelming in 2023. So it’s meaningful that “Vampire,” the first new music from Rodrigo since she evolved from a Disney Channel starlet to a Grammy-winning superstar, builds off the model of “drivers license,” her debut single that framed young love through a plastic symbol of adulthood.

“Vampire” begins similarly with melancholic piano keys, but instead of crumbling into tears, Rodrigo boils with anger as she chastises an older ex for his superficiality and manipulative behavior. Here, she reunites with Sour producer Dan Nigro, showing off their undeniable songwriting chemistry and theatrical flair. There’s an unhurried emotional logic to the track’s structure, mirroring a young woman’s gradual understanding of her own agency. Rodrigo works through disbelief as she recalls the way she was led to write off other women’s concerns—“You called them crazy, God, I hate the way I called them crazy too.” But it’s the song’s chorus that’s especially showstopping, even as it indulges in some on-the-nose imagery. “I should have known it was strange/You only come out at night,” Rodrigo sings, balancing rage and disappointment, both in this crummy dude and in herself. By the time she reaches the chorus’ conclusion, she’s rightfully furious: “Bloodsucker, fame fucker/Bleedin’ me dry like a goddamn vampire.” This is how you leave a guy for dead.