Some artists wallow in heartbreak. Ariana and the Rose throws on a glam outfit, gathers her friends, and makes a breakup look like performance art. Her new single “I Am Fine” isn’t just a mood — it’s a mission statement. She’s done crying. She’s done pretending to cry. She’s moving on, and she wants you to know she’s doing it with style.
The video dropped yesterday, and it’s already one of her best. Shot (again) in her apartment — this time with a full cast of characters — it plays like a satirical self-help infomercial crossed with a hyperpop cabaret. There’s no sob story here. Ariana is fine, full stop. The kind of fine where you throw a party just because you can, and everyone who broke your heart is definitely not invited.
This isn’t Ariana faking it till she makes it. This is what making it looks like. She’s funny, fierce, and fully in control of her narrative — turning her experiences into high-gloss, low-budget magic. The wink to the camera, the over-the-top affirmations, the stylized absurdity of it all — it’s campy in the best way, and it lands because she’s earned it.

If her last single “I Just Came to Say Goodbye” was the slow walk out of the mess, “I Am Fine” is the strut. Together, they open up the world of Breakup Variety Hour, her upcoming album and live show concept that merges pop music, comedy, and theatrical storytelling. Think late-night cabaret meets downtown electro-pop, with a dose of breakup group therapy — except you leave feeling better, not worse.
What makes Ariana and the Rose stand out in the pop ecosystem right now is how self-aware her whole project is. She’s not trying to be your tragic anti-hero or your overly perfect rebound queen. She’s just telling the truth — which is that getting over someone can be hilarious, awkward, and deeply empowering, all at once.
There’s a real joy in watching an artist who doesn’t just survive heartbreak, but remixes it into something danceable. That’s what Ariana’s doing. No wallowing, no pretending. Just sequins, synths, and a little bit of side-eye for the past.
Breakup Variety Hour is shaping up to be more than an album — it’s Ariana’s way of turning her life into a live show. And honestly? We’re all lucky to have front-row seats.
1. Let’s start at home—literally. You filmed “I Just Came to Say Goodbye” entirely in your NYC apartment. What was going through your mind as you created that video, and why was it important for you to keep it stripped and personal?
To be totally honest, I’m an independent artist and your girl is on a budget! It was also a very cool challenge to take the idea of a “one woman show” and apply it to the creation of the visuals as well. It was really fun to just play around in my apartment without the pressures of a time constraint or a team around me. I got a bunch of rolls of fabric, a spotlight, and recorded most of the video between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m.
The song is about the moment you actually break up and walk away. The whole concept of the record is based in theater, cabaret, 70s variety hour—like The Cher Show. I wanted the video to feel like a true DIY one-woman show. I think when you’re leaving a relationship, the feeling of being on your own can hit you pretty hard, so I wanted to reflect that in the performance as well. I wanted people to watch it and be like, “Oh, she’s really doing this all by herself.”
2. ‘Breakup Variety Hour’ feels like more than an album—it’s a full emotional experience. What moment or realization sparked the idea to blend music, storytelling, and comedy into one body of work?
I put my first album out in 2022 and then went through a really devastating breakup that messed with my sense of self. I didn’t make anything for a while, but when I started writing again, I knew I didn’t just want to make a pop album. I was watching old videos of Bette Midler and Cher, and it clicked for me that I wanted to make a one-woman show.
Making this show and album has been a totally different process than anything I’ve ever done before. I didn’t have a blueprint, so it’s been challenging and exciting all at once.
3. You’ve always played with contrasts—glitter and grit, pop sheen and raw honesty. How do you balance those dualities in your music and visuals, especially in this new project?
Thank you! Having those opposites in conversation with each other has always been very interesting to me. I think it’s just how I live my life day to day. Nothing is ever one thing. An experience is rarely pure good or bad. A person is made up of so many things, so I like to capture the nuance of whatever I’m writing about or creating a visual for.
I love contradictions—I find people and experiences that have multiple layers to be the most interesting.
4. Millions connected with your piano chats on TikTok, and now that vulnerability has evolved into a live, theatrical show. What has surprised you the most about sharing your dating life so publicly—both on and off stage?
I didn’t expect anyone to care! I was trying to figure out how to promote my first record and just throwing paint at the wall. The piano chats stuck pretty quickly. I love that moment in a live show where an artist just vamps before a song and tells the story behind it or the inspiration, so I took that moment and made 45-second internet videos out of them.
When you’re making videos in your room, it’s hard to fathom 8 million people watching one of them, so I just was very honest. I didn’t think about how far they could reach. I’ve loved getting messages and hearing people’s stories about their love lives and relationships. I feel honored to have created a little corner of the internet that feels positive.
5. You’ve built something rare: a universe that feels part rave, part diary entry. How has your Brooklyn art party background influenced the sonic and emotional landscape of Breakup Variety Hour?
There is nothing more cathartic and unifying than a dancefloor. It is one of my favorite places to be. I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by and learn from amazing artists and nightlife personas in New York City’s queer community—people who have fought for their space in a world that seeks to push them to the sidelines. And they do it with joy and humor, welcoming anyone who feels outcast in their own lives.
I’ve learned everything I know about community from being welcomed into these spaces, and this shows up everywhere in my work. All I want to do as an artist is create things that people can step inside of and feel seen. Whether that’s music, a show, an experience—I want people to feel held, so they can have a safe place to release whatever they’ve been holding onto.
6. Pop music often leans into glossy perfection, but you let your cracks show—and people love you for it. How has embracing imperfection shifted your relationship with your audience?
I think I tried for a long time to make things that looked glossy and perfect, and it never really felt 100% me. So eventually, I stopped trying so hard and just did what I enjoyed making. That has always felt better to me—that way, no matter how people receive it, I feel good about it. And it always ends up being the things that connect the most, whether that’s a video or a song.
I love hearing people’s stories when they message me or we chat after a show. I love hearing about how something I made made them think of a similar instance in their own life. It’s my favorite part of making music and performing.
7. You’ve been on late-night TV, featured in Vogue, and performed in the most intimate NYC clubs. Looking back, what’s been your biggest ‘holy shit’ moment—and what still feels unfinished in your artistic journey?
I played keyboards on SNL for Coldplay, wearing an alien cyclops helmet, which was one of the truly most “holy shit” moments of my life. You literally cannot tell it’s me at all, and it was one of the most surreal experiences I’ve ever had.
I remember getting the offer for the job and my best friend said to me, “We are going to talk about you doing this when we are 85 years old.” It was just absurd and incredible and one of my favorite things I’ve ever done.