In her debut single, Audrey Hobert just wants to be wanted. “Sue Me” is the perfect first statement from the multi-talented artist who’s spent the last few years shaping the sounds and visuals of others (most notably those of her best friend, Gracie Abrams) before stepping into the spotlight herself.
At its core, “Sue Me” is an anthem for anyone who’s ever longed to be wanted. The instantly catchy hook, “Sue me, I wanna be wanted,” blurs the line between indie-pop and raw emotional storytelling. It’s emotionally vulnerable, tapping into the core of every twenty-something girl’s inner monologue, yet it’s also wildly fun. We all want to be wanted, but Hobert is more than willing to own it, be messy, and to make music that sounds like late-night truths you say out loud when no one’s around.
What sets the song apart, though, is how effortlessly Hobert blends humor with heartbreak. Take, for example, the second verse: “Just me or does he look amazing, when he’s all in his Amazon Basics?” It’s a witty jab at her ex’s barebones fashion sense, layered with the confusing allure of lingering attraction. But the song doesn’t linger in irony for long—things escalate quickly, almost chemically, as she imagines them alone together: “Let’s rip ‘em off, top to bot, let’s rock. Suddenly all the lights are on, taking it as a sign from God.” The moment plays like a scene from a film—intense, impulsive, and laced with sly humor, where everything feels charged and larger than life.
But it’s the outro that cements Hobert as a force to be reckoned with. Her dark humor is on full display as she declares, “And I’m sorry that your dog died, Sorry that I’m like your dream bride, you’ll go to heaven and I’ll go to hell in the meantime.” It’s twisted, brilliant, and oddly tender— she recognizes the damage she’s capable of, but chooses honesty and desire over self-censorship. In just a few lines, Hobert captures the chaos of feeling too much and saying it anyway. It’s not just a backhanded apology—it’s a power move. She lays bare her contradictions without begging for forgiveness, turning emotional excess into art.
With “Sue Me,” Audrey Hobert doesn’t just introduce herself—she arrives fully formed, unapologetically messy, and emotionally razor-sharp. It’s the kind of debut that doesn’t ask for permission or understanding; it dares you to feel everything all at once. From biting one-liners to gut-punch confessions, Hobert proves she can spin heartache into something strangely triumphant. If this is just the beginning, consider this your warning: Audrey Hobert isn’t here to play it safe—she’s here to be heard, and she’s not afraid to make a little noise in the process.