Photo by Hilton Als
When Tavi Gevinson, now 19-years-old and Editor-in-Chief of the richly-articulated Rookie Mag (as well an actress and fashion icon in her own right) talks about pop culture, her ideas about music, style, and adulthood transcend mere observation in favor of something more astute and endearing: she is in her element, lord knows, but she’s also still figuring it out, which is part of the charm.
This month, Rookie releases Rookie Yearbook Four—the fourth-annual roundup of the website’s best content as compiled and styled into a hardcover that wouldn’t feel out of place in a record shop. This year’s book features contributions from the likes of Lorde, Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig, and countless others. We spoke to Tavi about the release, her favorite bands, Rookie’s approach to music, and why Chic, Green Day, and Beyoncé make the perfect Rookie playlist.
Pitchfork: The last interview you did with Pitchfork was in your senior year of high school, and now we’re talking about Rookie’s "Senior Year"—the fourth edition of the Yearbook. What phase of Rookie are we currently entering, and how has it changed?
Tavi Gevinson: I think that one of the biggest changes for me has been that as much as I’ve tried to make sure that a lot of different voices are heard, my feelings about growing up inevitably affected the types of ideas we were commissioning and the inspiration boards we were giving our contributors. It’s kind of interesting to see where I went from being a little cynical about growing up—a little remorseful about childhood and things coming to an end—and I think the fourth book is a lot more optimistic. Something else I also find very telling is that people always ask me how [Rookie] is going to change now that I’m older and I’m not in school, but [Yearbook Four] has something like three Editor’s letters in a row about the minutiae of being very anxious and very insecure. That’s not a space I want to live in for that long, but I think it goes to show some of our adult readers that adulthood isn’t a kind of doorway that you walk through and all your problems are solved, and teenagers aren’t dealing with such different things than adults are.
Pitchfork: I’m curious about how your personal musical tastes have evolved since the genesis of Rookie, and how Rookie approaches their music coverage now that they have enough visibility to feature and collaborate with various high profile artists.
TG: We were very lucky because people who don’t need press from Rookie have wanted to be featured from very early on. In the beginning, I wanted Rookie not to be dominated by one genre; I never wanted it to feel like too much of a cool clubhouse even though when I started it, I myself leaned more towards artists like Joni Mitchell, which I wrote about. I mean, she’s obviously not obscure, but she’s also not played on pop radio every day. So we’ve always wanted to have a mix, and of course that was harder when we didn’t have the same access to popular artists like we do now, but I personally don’t think that your taste says anything about you; I think it’s what draws you to the things that you like that’s so interesting.
I was talking to a friend who works somewhere where someone wrote about Steely Dan and how it was this crazy catalyst for the relationship he had with his brother, and other people at the magazine were just like "ugh, no, we don’t care about Steely Dan." And she was like, "that’s not why this is interesting." I’d rather hear about someone’s bizarre obsession with something that isn’t quote-unquote "cool"…I don’t just want to be told what music is quote-unquote "cool"; it’s boring.
Pitchfork: What are you a fan of right now, musically?
TG: I do keep up with current music more than I used to… These days I am listening to the new Drake, Raury’s album, and the new Carly Rae Jepsen. I also finally heard the Cocteau Twins. That just never happened for me before, and I had this crazy epiphany—I mean, I was on a plane, and lack of oxygen should definitely be accounted for—but I was on a plane coming home and I just listened to them and drew a very crude copy of the Heaven or Las Vegas cover. As soon as I landed I went somewhere to get it framed because Liz Fraser means so much to me, and the fact that you can’t really hear what she’s saying meant so much, just in terms of letting yourself feel something instead of having to decide on a narrative. That was very important to me.
Pitchfork: Are there any music features in Yearbook Four that you’re excited to see in the print version?
TG: It’s so hard—I can’t choose! I’m really proud of the print-only features because those come together without having been on the site, and a lot of people were very generous with their time and their efforts to make those things special. I’m also proud of the way in which those things are translated. It's so easy to cut and paste, but that’s not why you buy a book. To me it's about being able to go through [the book] and point out to someone which fabric is from my closet, which postcard is from a junk shop I went to in high school, which playlist was handwritten by who… So it can feel a little crazy in the process, and I’m sure no one at Penguin liked being kept at their work past midnight, but I think those touches really come across.
Pitchfork: If you had to put together a quick thematic playlist in honor of Rookie’s senior year, what would be on it?
TG: "Time of Your Life" by Green Day—of course. "Good Times" by Chic, and "Party" by Beyoncé. I think I just made the best three-song playlist of all time.