Chappell Roan's "The Subway"

Chappell Roan’s “The Subway,” officially released on August 1, 2025, is a rich, emotionally layered breakup ballad that pushes her artistic trajectory beyond the synth‑pop bravado of earlier singles. Co‑written and produced by longtime collaborator Dan Nigro, the song was first performed live in June 2024 at Governors Ball—where Roan dressed as the Statue of Liberty—and promptly became a fan favorite, celebrated for its lyrical intimacy and live intensity

Fans’s impatience for a studio recording was palpable, with many urging her on TikTok and Reddit to formally release what had become a live legend—even joking that she simply wouldn’t leave it in performance form forever

The studio version is a mid‑tempo dream‑pop gem, drenched in atmospheric guitars, sparse percussion, and reverb‑washed soundscapes. Critics have described its sonic palette as recalling Cocteau Twins, The Sundays, The Cranberries, and even early Lilith Fair‑era alt‑pop acts, yet Roan fuses these influences without sounding derivative

Pitchfork praised her ear for reference without replication, noting that you glimpse “Robin Guthrie’s skyward‑soaring guitar, [Elizabeth Fraser’s] Celtic lilt, or Patch Hannan’s gentle rhythmic chug,” but nothing ever threatens to dominate

Lyrically the song is raw and meticulously specific: from “I saw your green hair, beauty mark next to your mouth / There on the subway I nearly had a breakdown” to “Somebody wore your perfume / It almost killed me / I had to leave the room,” the imagery evokes sense memory and public trauma in a deeply personal way

One standout line—“I made a promise, if in four months this feeling ain’t gone… fuck this city, I’m moving to Saskatchewan”—crackles with theatrical wit but also captures bargaining and desperation, turning heartbreak into both absurdist humor and emotional honesty.

Over the course of the song, Roan seems to pass through all five stages of grief: denial (“It’s not over ’til it’s over / It’s never over”), anger (“Made you the villain / Just for moving on”), bargaining (the Saskatchewan line), depression (“It almost killed me / I had to leave the room”), and finally acceptance in the quiet repetition at the end: “She’s got a way / She got away”

Consequence’s review called it an emotionally sophisticated turning point in Roan’s career, praising her willingness to load raw grief into cinematic space rather than oversized pop gloss.

The song’s official video, directed by Amber Grace Johnson, is a camp‑infused visual odyssey rooted in New York City. Allegorical red hair becomes a central motif: Roan wears a Rapunzel‑like wig trailing across the city, tangled in taxi doors, dragged through trash, even invaded by rats—literalizing how memories cling, tangle, and torment.

In one striking sequence she bicycling while her hair collects grime, later ascending a fire escape, then plunging into Washington Square Park fountain—a symbolic wash of grief into renewal

People magazine praised the video’s ambition and its metaphorical use of hair as emotional baggage, calling it a melodramatic yet poignant chase through heartbreak

The motif also echoes back to the song’s lyrics, linking internal feeling to public motion.

In interviews Roan admitted she delayed releasing “The Subway” because she feared the studio version couldn’t match the intensity of her live performance. She struggled to “solve the puzzle of how the song should feel musically and visually and emotionally” before finally unveiling it when she felt she’d gotten it right. She also described how heartbreak and artistic burnout slowed the process, emphasizing that she didn’t want to rush, even after her Grammy win and growing fame.

. Vogue quotes her on reclaiming her creativity and pacing herself more sustainably, even pushing back on expectations for a quick second album or social media‑driven output.

Fan reactions across social media have been intensely emotional. On X many quotes trended from lyrics like “Made you the villain… evil for just moving on” and lines about Saskatchewan, with fans joking again about moving provinces for emotional survival

One fan wrote “Brb moving to Saskatchewan,” others echoed “The Subway has eternally ate,” and the community collectively wept into their headphones.

Critics have overwhelmingly praised the track. Pitchfork highlighted Roan’s ability to “weaponize familiarity and novelty” so that the track feels both timeless and surprisingly fresh

The Pitchfork news brief emphasized the precision of her hooks and lyricism, calling it one of pop’s most distinctive writing voices

Rolling Stone Philippines noted the song’s moodiness, stripped‑down guitar and restrained percussion, and how it serves as a soft but emotionally potent pivot from the bombast of earlier hits like “Pink Pony Club” or “Good Luck, Babe!”

Harpers Bazaar hailed it as the “heartbreak anthem of the summer,” a soundtrack to grief and self‑reclamation equally

“The Subway” marks a turning point for Roan: away from glittery, maximalist pop and toward emotional intimacy, atmospheric layering, and narrative nuance. It doesn’t shy away from public heartbreak—instead it embodies it through lyric, melody, and metaphor. The song occupies a liminal space: an ode to New York’s bruising emotional landscape, a love‑lost reverie, and a personal breakthrough in artistic control. It trades big choreography for subtle power, echoing heartbreak while offering catharsis.

Less radio‑friendly than her bops, yes—but perhaps richer. Where “The Giver” leaned into theatrical country‑pop swagger, “The Subway” strips back the costume to expose the raw core beneath, elevated by Dan Nigro’s spacious production and Roan’s vocal fragility. It is the sound of grief that refuses to remain literal, transforming public spaces into internal landscapes. That repeated bridge—“She’s got a way / She got away”—is a trembling surrender, the emotional room left open for the future.

In releasing it on her own terms, Roan reaffirms her artistic ethos: no rush, no compromise, creating on her own emotional timeline. The result is haunting, poetic, tender, and full of scars and beauty in equal measure. “The Subway” may not arrive with earworm immediacy, but it lingers with you days later—and for some listeners, it may feel like the song they needed to hear.