Jae Stephens is making room for the girls who were told pop wasn’t theirs

A Tumblr sensation of the early 2010s, she ran the popular blog “beyoncebeytwice” like the navy. Now belonging to the same musical landscape of her teenage online fixation, the 29-year-old Dallas-born Stephens has surpassed all expectations of what an online celebrity buff can and can’t do. “I do feel very dialled in, it’s all starting to become real, in a way,” she says, assured of her artistic authority.  

Despite its dawning, AUDACITY, her lovingly crafted debut LP, is a detail-oriented undertaking unlike any other pop campaign in the modern market. Instead of the typical, metaphorical worldbuilding terminology expected of a new album, she’s quite literally created her own mythology. By the well-documented order of Miss Andry, Mayor of Auda City, to get your Auda Citizenship you are an ambitious girl on the go. Busy, hard to pin down, and even harder to figure out. As the subject of Stephens’ record closer, she is also very good at playing mental gymnastics. “You know, this shit has lived in my phone for so long, so it’s nice that it’s kind of coming to fruition in a way.”

Stephens does not take for granted her loyal community of JaeBaes, the fandom name given by her OG Tumblr followers. In February, she hosted her very own JaeBae Awards on her YouTube channel. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with a song that I made when I was 15 called ‘Killing Time’,” she tells me. “The JaeBaes love to bring that up, my lore is often a weapon formed against me.” For a talent so incredibly internet savvy as Stephens, it’s staggering to hear how, at first, she wasn’t especially keen to revisit her formative years of posting covers and putting out pre-LP originals. “There was definitely an era, especially when I was starting the SELLOUT EP of it all and releasing ‘WET’, I wanted it scrubbed. I wanted it deleted. I did not want anybody to know about it. That wasn't me. I wasn't there.”

Fast forward to promo for AUDACITY, showing off her supporters with all kinds of tracklist signage. They’re there for the official ribbon cutting at the unveiling of Attaboy Avenue. They’re spotted patrolling Expensive & Difficult Drive. “Tumblr was really where I got comfortable with sharing my music online and building a rapport with the JaeBaes. I look back on it fondly now, and also the JaeBaes love to be able to say, ‘I was there for that, I was there when...’ which I think is really sweet. So, I'm starting to enjoy it.” 

Stephens’ affectionate JaeBaes even feature as patrons in the dive bar video for “Sugar Trap”. Serving drinks and an all-female dance break, there is room for Stephens, who wields wit and women’s empowerment through a visual built around cheek, innuendo, and a killer candy-coated hook that rivals those of her female pop contemporaries. “When I listened to the music that I was making in the Tumblr days, I was trying so hard to be edgy,” she reveals. “Everything was in black-and-white, I really tried to lean into this tragic suburban boredom, which I think is so funny when I revisit songs.” 

That self-recognition has become an integral part of Stephens’ identity. The in-jokes and knowing references with her fandom have cultivated a sense that pop stardom can be built through internet conversation as much as poetic lyricism. It’s how a peer like Tinashe gets uplifted to greater heights; she coincidentally dropped her Popstar album on the same day as AUDACITY.

Stephens shares a lot in common with Tinashe, whom she calls “mother”. Both moved to Pasadena, California, at a young age, and both are making headlines; their stylish capital-P presentations of a noticeable, exciting pop game. Black women in pop music is nothing new; some of Stephens’ biggest inspirations are Janet Jackson, Mariah Carey, and, of course, Queen Bey herself. But with music publications like The FADER including her name in a list of 20 leading voices at present – everyone from YSEULT and Natanya, to Rachel Chinouriri, Chxrry, and iKeda – recognition for Stephens, and her scintillating 2026 efforts, make a clear and convincing argument of prominence.

As someone who’s always written and sung as second nature, the shift to making music with intent as a career decision came after Stephens’ manager submitted her music (without telling her) to actress Issa Rae’s RAEDIO imprint with Def Jam. “I was like, okay, I owe it to myself and to everyone on my team to give this a real good shot, and to say that I really put my whole pussy into this... sorry.”  

Her 2024 single “WET” marked the beginning of Stephens really putting her best foot forward and making the music she wanted to make. Being unashamed, pushing her imposter syndrome to the side, and trying not to be so timid and shy. Looking back, she feels that the work has paid off. “It has made me feel like I never had anything to be fearful of in the first place. Everything before SELLOUT is good, but it just had less of my DNA all the way in it, you know?” 

Despite its touchstone in Coyote Ugly – the comedy-drama from the year 2000 about a watering hole of “Coyote” barmaids – Stephens’ DNA is on full show, start to finish, all through AUDACITY. Taming bad boys and tantalising the listener, telling it like it is, and having the audacity to voice avoidant tendencies that paint her as the villain at times. “As the album took shape, it felt very female-focused, female-led,” she explains. “I own the place, you are an accessory, give me your money and leave, don’t piss me off.”  

Her favourite movie growing up, Coyote Ugly’s influence on AUDACITY was inevitable from the outset; sonically, lyrically and thematically, the record began to remind Stephens of Beyoncé’s feminist “Who run the world? Girls” refrain. Touting the formidable, glamorous “Coyotes”: “They were all so badass. I loved their clothes, how they moved. I did start Modelland [in middle school] because I was going through a very intense Tyra Banks/ANTM phase at the time. I unfortunately didn’t finish because it was very long and a bit all over the place! Piper Perabo’s character I really resonated with, a small-town girl who just wants to sing. Down to the fashion, and just the themes of it all, it really loaned itself well to the world I was building through the music.”

The alter-ego of Miss Andry functions as a figure through whom Stephens can explore the less flattering sides of modern femininity. She contradicts herself; soft and vulnerable in one song, tough and independent without apology come another. “I really enjoy making music where I’m not always cast in the best light. It was really fun to lean into that, and give the fans a bit more of a character to latch onto and have fun with. They can decide if it’s make-believe or not. As a songwriter, I'm not super overly autobiographical, but I do find that after writing, I'm like, ‘I kind of meant that.’”

“It has been fun for me because the whole point is to garner some conversation, and to have a good time.” When men accused Stephens of making music about hating them after the release of her “WET” follow-up “Girls Don’t Cheat”, she saw an opportunity for a little back-and-forth rather than a reason to tone herself down. “Straight men, I enjoy the ones who have humour,” she cracks. “There have been a few that wrote their own response verse, and I fuck with that. I really like that we can have a bit of discourse. I’m just here to stir the pot.” Her “Sugar Trap” video certainly did. Continuously blocked on TikTok for nudity because of a chastity belt styling decision, her response online was a simple Tweet that reads “idgaf im returning to the tl #STOPCENSORSHIPINAUDACITY”. 

Just as playful is AUDACITY’s sleek soundboard of noughties-inspired pop-R&B hybrids, revitalising the era’s larger-than-life productions for advanced anti-misogyny sensibilities. To the force Stephens once penned a track for, “Foolish like Ashanti, I might be” she nods on the crunk-inflected “B4U”. Mention Chingy, and she chuckles. “Dallas [Caton], the producer, will be really happy that you said that. He was going through a bit of a phase where every song we made that week literally was a Chingy knockoff, a Soulja Boy knockoff. That's obviously how we got a song like ‘Freakie’ [on deluxe EP compilation TOTAL SELLOUT].” 

She sells herself short for someone who makes music that could sit alongside pop’s high-class. Not everyone can bring antiquated elements before an audience of iPhone faces, after all. “I make what I think is missing. Maybe the reason people think R&B music is so limiting is because they’re only really being exposed to one type of it in this day and age.”

Stephens expresses how she has felt limited by the industry’s tendency to put her in an R&B box, wholeheartedly agreeing with Kelela’s thesis on the genre. Promoting her own project on BBC Radio 1Xtra, Kelela recently spoke on seeing the genre as far more expansive than its current mainstream representation suggests. There are many variations and approaches to vocal styling, for Kelela there’s the appeal of integrating electric guitars commonly associated with rock music. Teddy Riley’s new jack swing of the late 80s and early 90s, popularised by the greatest Janet Jackson hits of producer and songwriting duo Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, offered Stephens a path to bridge her influences. “To me, it’s the perfect blend of R&B and pop. It’s got the melodies, but the production is very radio. It’s big and it’s urgent.” 

Her aspiration for an expansive trademark is a testament to the reputable contributions she’s won over. On AUDACITY opener “Crush”, PinkPantheress is credited as a background vocalist. The two hit it off at a very crowded Grammy party prior to Stephens’ feature request, framed as casually as possible, to which an ill pop princess obliged. “I was like, ‘I’m grateful for whatever. Just cough, and I’ll put it in the song, I don’t care.’”  

“I Miss The City” collaborator MNEK represents a different kind of full-circle moment. Stephens remembers hearing his velvet voice on Nick Grimshaw’s Radio 1 Breakfast Show as a teen, when she was fascinated by British music and culture. Years later, after meeting him in London during her first songwriting sessions, she finally got to work with him on the album. “I really wanted, like, a good classic song, and I feel like he really delivered that. Just like strong melody, strong concept. He knows how to fucking do that.” 

The birthplace of her musical journey after graduating from high school, Stephens’ connection to the UK stretches beyond the studio. Like the ruminating twinkle of her midtempo MNEK track, she cherishes the freedom of a walkable city and public transport. She didn’t have much money for gigs then, but with London and Manchester on the itinerary for the week, she’s happy to be back, supporting Khalid on the European leg of his It’s Always Summer Somewhere Tour. “I’m excited to see what y’all give, I feel like across Europe it’s different,” she says. “It’s mixed reactions. Some countries are a bit more quiet, and some are a bit rowdier and crazier.”  

And if there’s one more way to bring her club-ready Coyote Ugly creation to life, it might just be through karaoke. At the request of covering LeAnn Rimes’ iconic “Can’t Fight the Moonlight”, Miss Andry is more than game. “I’d love to find a way to incorporate it into my live shows when I start putting my tour together.” 

A reflection of the real world she wants to inhabit, the artists Stephens aligns herself with rebel against the notion of sticking to one sound. She spoke with musician friends going through it on her The Sellout Podcast, a place for open discussion around the experiences of navigating a difficult industry. The question of who gets to be a pop star, and who receives the support, is one Stephens takes seriously. She believes: “A lot of Black girls are discouraged from making quote unquote pop music, or anything that is not R&B, hip-hop and rap, gospel. Stepping outside of the norm, we don’t know that that is an option for us because it’s not presented to us. It’s not encouraged. Especially in an industry where we are told ‘you will only be accepted if you do and sound and look like this’.” 

Pointing to a lack of resources and platforms, the solution for Stephens means giving Black women the same opportunities and backing afforded to their white pop counterparts. “There are so many R&B girlies who can also be pop stars. I think that Victoria Monét has everything that is needed to be on this main stage.” It’s a perfect affirmation from an artist as studious as Jae Stephens, whose pop obsession today transcends the Tumblr blog archives. Relishing every second of the post-record rush, she has stopped second-guessing herself. And like Monét, she, too, is ready for a showy, audacious arena.