It was just over two years ago that Sabrina Teitelbaum made good on the promise of her slew of early indie-pop singles as Blondshell with a self-titled debut that seemed to pack the songwriter’s lifetime into a 33-minute capsule of soaring alt-rock. Yet today she’s already returned with that album’s follow-up, If You Asked for a Picture, which dives deeper into some of her prior music’s heaviest themes beyond ill-fated relationships: misogyny, body image, maintaining control in life—or learning to let go of it. “These aren’t really light songs, and it’s not really a light album,” she confesses. “That stuff can feel heavy to live with.”
With this darker lyrical turn, Teitelbaum also permitted herself to steer in a grimier direction instrumentally with the help of producer Yves Rothman. While some of the softer and breezier elements of Blondshell materialize in conscious homages to Fleetwood Mac and The Sundays, the musical palette frequently takes cues from bands like Red Hot Chili Peppers and Queens of the Stone Age—two bands Teitelbaum lovingly describes as “dude bands that have the lore of being villains.” “On the first album, there’s a lot of stuff about chasing people,” she explains of the shift in her sound. “It was so much about doing everything for a man’s validation. A lot of the new album is about getting that validation, and realizing it doesn’t do what you thought it would.”
With the album out today via Partisan, stream If You Asked for a Picture below and read on for Teitelbaum’s track-by-track breakdown of the release. To further contrast her two records, you can revisit our profile with Teitelbaum from 2023 here.
1. “Thumbtack”
This song is picking up where the last record ended. In it, I’m finding myself wanting to be with somebody who isn’t great, maybe as a distraction. Maybe part of the reason somebody might want to be in a relationship that’s really challenging is because then they’re not focused on other things that are even more difficult. I was wrestling with the illusion of control, because obviously you don’t really have control over that much in life.
2. “T&A”
There’s a Rolling Stones song on Tattoo You called “Little T&A” and at a point in the song, he says “tits and ass,” so I’m borrowing that. This is the most narrative song on the album. I see it as a love story—maybe not the most fairy-tale love story—but I wanted it to feel like a really narrative song, where it’s just like, “This happened, and then this happened, and then this happened, and now I’m finding myself here.” I think in music, it’s easy to see things as either more sexualized or more romantic, and I wanted this to be both.
3. “Arms”
I wanted this song to feel really tough. I used a lot of Queens of the Stone Age references; they have the best bass parts—like “In the Fade” and “Auto Pilot” and a bunch of the songs on Rated R—that cut through and drive the song. I wanted the low end to feel like that. When you’re in production spaces, it’s really dude-heavy. It’s empowering for me to use sonic references that feel reserved for men, so I sort of leaned on Rated R and Californication.
The phrase “sex and rage” is from the Eve Babitz novel. I love that book and was having a really similar social experience to the book. It’s easy to feel like LA is a town where everybody works in entertainment, everybody’s just living for that, and it can feel a little empty, but reading Eve Babitz and Joan Didion, you think about what’s under the surface. I wanted a really masculine reference for this song in particular, because it was like, “I don’t have to be this matronly idea of a woman.” Men constantly want women to take care of them and be their mom, this twisted thing that’s just so common. I was noticing that in a relationship, and that’s not who I’m going to be. So I wrote this song about it.
4. “What’s Fair”
Everybody’s trauma is so precious to them. I mostly just want to keep that for myself. It’s informed who I am now, but I don’t want to have to explain everything. I think American misogyny is a specific brand. We can talk about misogyny a lot as this intellectualized cultural thing, which makes it feel really distant. But if you’re living somewhere where misogyny is just in the water, it’s going to affect you, and it’s going to affect your relationships: mother-daughter, my mom and her mom—everybody is affected by it.
There’s a lot of stuff on this record about how misogyny affected my relationship with my body. It was really normalized when I was growing up. In magazines, you’d see stuff like, “I lost 30 pounds in two weeks, here’s how,” “Get rid of belly fat quickly.” The early 2000s media in general was really like, “You have to be super thin in this specific way.” And then if you get too thin, you’re crazy and something’s wrong with you. I like the idea of body neutrality. Something that’s specific to now is this feeling that we’re all supposed to be healed, and if you’re talking about feeling like you want to be thin then you’re part of the problem. That can lend itself to wanting to be silent about struggling with stuff. But that came up a lot in these songs—in this one and in “Man.”
5. “Two Times”
I was thinking of The Sundays, Cocteau Twins, and The Cranberries. This is another song with questions in the chorus. How difficult does a relationship have to be for it to be meaningful? We see movies and media where conflict is the only way love and relationships are reflected—through stories where there’s difficulty or someone has to work really hard to get somebody else to love them. This song was basically like, “What if it’s just good?” What if it’s just solid and the relationship’s healthy? Does that mean it counts? Does that mean it’s valuable? I think that’s a painful question, because it’s also asking, “How capable am I of being in a relationship?” But it’s also a love song, in that way.
6. “Event of a Fire”
Traveling can be physically exhausting, but it’s also emotionally kind of tough to be not in your home. And this song…well, literally there was a fire at a Holiday Inn. Not a bad fire—somebody put something in the microwave that they shouldn’t have. We were outside of Boston and it was January, and the alarm went off at four in the morning. So we obviously had to leave our rooms and make our way downstairs. I was so tired—and this is the number one no-no—but I was like, “I don’t give a fuck, I’m taking the elevator.” And I took the elevator down, which is so bad, but it was the middle of the night and I wasn’t thinking. And that stuck in my mind and I wrote the song a while later on tour.
The song has a lot of specific details, and obviously the chorus is like, “What if I’m burnt out?” But it’s not really, “What if I’m burnt out from touring,” it’s like, “What if I’m burnt out by just existing?” and all the things I talked about on the album—body image, relationships, etc. These aren’t really light songs, and it’s not really a light album. That stuff can feel heavy to live with. This song was like, “What if I don’t really want to deal with all of this shit?” But also burnout from tour.
7. “23’s a Baby”
“23’s a Baby” is largely about finding compassion. I used to see relationships as really black-and-white, and this song is kind of about that, too. Everybody’s healing from shit, that’s just how the world works. To have kids when you’re in your twenties is relatively early in whatever your healing journey is. So you’re a baby, and then you’re having a baby, and then babies are taking care of babies and things get perpetuated that way. I’m 27 and let me tell you, I’m not gonna have a kid in three years. Fuck no. I’m still such a work in progress as a person.
8. “Change”
I wanted this song to feel a little scary. I came in with the reference of “The Chain” by Fleetwood Mac. To me, that song feels scary—the groove, the guitars, the vocal harmonies. I think with any friendship or relationship, it’s a hurdle that people change. On the first album, there’s a lot of stuff about chasing people, like, “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know how to deal with that, because you suck.” It was so much about doing everything for a man’s validation. A lot of the new album is about getting that validation, and realizing it doesn’t do what you thought it would.
On this song, there’s a line, “When I finally have him, I’ll know I never liked his face,” and that’s the crux of the album in a way: “Oh, I have him now, but he’s actually a loser, so now I have to start over. Everything I thought was true before is not true—that once I get the guy who I think I’m in love with, I’ll have the worth and I’ll have the value and it’ll mean I’m hot and all this stuff. But oh shit, now I have him and that’s not true!” It’s a little bit of a Batman villain arc—the thing you wanted didn’t do what you thought it would—and in the bridge I’m the villain. That’s part of why I wanted to reference Queens of the Stone Age or Red Hot Chili Peppers, these dude bands that have the lore of being villains.
9. “Toy”
“Toy” and “Thumbtack” are largely about my OCD, and trying to not obsess. There are some things that obviously everybody will want to control. When you want to control the outcome of something, it can often mean you care about it. But I think that I’m now developed enough as a person to actually give up control over some things. That’s sort of what the song is about.
Another lyric related to a big theme on the album is, “I wont lose my body if I get a belly, I’ll just roll around and feel it like a boy.” It felt nice for me to say that. When I was growing up, everything in the tabloids was about having a flat stomach. I felt really dogged by that my whole life. Now that I’m older I’ve felt more release in just being down with how my body is.
10. “He Wants Me”
This is honestly the happiest song on the record. It might not sound like it, but it’s a singular moment where there’s no big dilemma. This person wants me, I want them, I’m down with how this is going. That shit rocks when it lines up. There are tender lyrics in it that I like a lot: “Skillet, egg break, let me put my hand on your headache.” I thought that imagery was wholesome and nice. Cooking and caring for each other. It’s kind of the heaviest production on the album, but it’s also a light spot, lyrically.
11. “Man”
“Man” is the opposite of “He Wants Me.” The bridge on this song feels like one of the heaviest, most important parts of the album, lyrically. I’m talking about being 17 and in a situation with a man who’s much older. There’s this line, “He was 28 and off the handle, I was a kid wanting to cancel.” That idea, “I said yes to this thing, and I have now found myself in a position where something is expected of me, and I’m young and I don’t know how to say ‘no.’” Seventeen is such an important, formative age. There’s so much stuff tattooed onto my brain from being a 17-year-old girl, and that part of me is a really loud part that comes out in songwriting.
12. “Model Rockets”
I love this idea of, “I’m stuck here, and the life I could be living is out there somewhere else, and somebody else is living it. A life that’s full and exciting and fun and scary and dangerous—that’s not a possibility for me where I am, it’s physically somewhere else.” My dad’s from LA and my grandma lives here. When I was a kid, I used to see LA in movies, and it was all partying and drugs and clubs. I’d come here as a preteen and do wholesome stuff with my family, and think, “There’s this whole other world happening here.” Sometimes trying to stay healthy can feel like that, like life is happening somewhere else. That’s what the song is about, and about feeling conflicted.
That’s why I wanted it to also have the line about being bi. I think my sexuality is not the most interesting thing about me—when you end up talking about it, it can get flattened—but it’s part of my experience. In my experience as someone who’s bi, you can attribute your dissatisfaction to your sexuality. When I’m with men, I’m like, “Uh, I’m probably a lesbian.” Then when I’m with women, I’m like, “I’m obviously just straight.” You’re hearing all this biphobia in your head. That came up in this song.
I like the image of having a rose on your door. My grandma had this Post-It on her door of a heart for a long time—it didn’t fall off for 10 or 15 years. It finally fell off eventually because there was a lot of wind, the weather was crazy. It fell off because life happened.
