Rachel Chinouriri is in her pop girl era

ON THE COVER Rachel wears Top: BAZAARE, Skirt: RICK OWENS ARCHIVE, Headphones: THE ZEINA

WORDS Z. Raza-Sheikh
PHOTOGRAPHY Hanifah Mohammad
STYLING Shannon Kelsey Ann
STYLING ASSISTANTS Claudia Vargas & Savannah Jones
FASHION EDITOR Baillie Jones
MUA Antonia Yiltay
HAIR Shamara Roper
NAILS Tinu Bello
PRODUCTION Maddy Reid & Chiara Maculan
SOCIALS Richie Barker
STUDIO ASSISTANT Finn Soley
WITH THANKS TO Katie Pilbeam at Chalk Press Agency

“I feel like I’m on FaceTime; it’s actually quite fun doing this,” Rachel Chinouriri chimes from her bedroom in North London, as she settles her laptop down. Stepping back, in a draping deep red viscose bodycon-style Vivienne Westwood dress, she checks she’s still in frame while continuing to get ready. “I’ve got Vivienne Westwood and Jimmy Choo’s to go and meet Elton John. It’s for the King’s Trust charity. I’m going to be like, ‘Hey, Sir Elton! I’ve been waiting to meet you. You’re a fucking legend’,” she laughs. “I’m excited. I’m meeting Elton John, woo! I flew back from Berlin just so I could see my king, Sir Elton.”

It’s easy to be a Chinouriri fan: she’s a chatty girls’ girl from Croydon who leads with kindness, and creates witty, sharp lyrics as if made for the group chat. Her 2024 debut album What a Devastating Turn of Events tapped the singer-songwriter as an alt-pop indie rockstar, collating stories about her life, from sticky situationships and alcohol-imbued nights out to the heartbreaking suicide of her cousin in Zimbabwe. Chinouriri’s new record, I Think I Spoke Too Soon, is soft-vocalled, syrupy and equally self-probing. Lead single ‘One Song Away From Crying’ is a swooning, disco-noted track, while the hushed, woozy synth notes on ‘Baby Steps’ feel pitch-perfect for an easy-going romcom.

The sophomore album is a screenshot of Chinouriri inviting in difficult questions, as well as the dance tunes. Mid-album single ‘Broken Chair’ unfurls as arcade-like synths zip around confronting lyrics, with a particularly poignant line (“I’m walking home the morning after / Your friendly neighbourhood disaster”) crafted by BRICKS cover star and coveted lyricist Lucy Dacus alongside co-writer Mary Weitz. “We were piecing together this story of where you’re walking home from afters, and you find this abandoned chair, and you resonate with it. The amount of mornings I have stumbled down the streets, and people are like, ‘You alright, babe?’ where they’re obviously going to work and I’m coming home.”

At the time Chinouriri first started drinking, she felt her life goals were aligned. She had everything she wanted – a growing career, a successful album, a close-knit group of friends, and she felt enjoyably “popular”, but reality quickly set in. “I realised people only wanted to see me when we were going out to drink and that was a difficult thing to then come to terms with,” she admits. Chinouriri’s routine habits have since shifted. In the time of making  I Think I Spoke Too Soon, the singer found solace in friends – fellow musicians Mae Muller and Grace Carter – who revel in her party spirit, regardless of whether she’s sober or not. “I’ve realised now, as a sober person, I can enjoy being out as long as I have the right mindset or people around me. I value Grace and Mae’s friendship even more, because even when I stop drinking, they want to hang out.”

Perennially existing online, Chinouriri has quickly been branded as your favourite artist’s favourite support star, earning her a die-hard fanbase who she lovingly names ‘Darlings’. Only a few months ago, the Londoner performed in Olivia Rodrigo’s inaugural Daisy Chain festival and is on track to open for Gracie Abrams across her North American tour – “I’m getting those slots back to back to back to back to back!” she jokingly interjects. From pop superstar Sabrina Carpenter to cool rockers Wolf Alice, Chinouriri is not short of major support slots, and she doesn’t mind it either. “It’s taught me the sort of performer I want to be. When you’re opening for someone, you need to try and impress people who are actually not there for you. They obviously care about their main act, and you’re kind of filling some space in between. You have to be something worth taking people out of conversation for,” she explains, while migrating the laptop from bedroom to kitchen. “I’ve learned so many skills. I remove all of the crowd from my in-ears so it feels like I’m wearing headphones with music and I can hear myself sing. I’m in my own rocket ship sort of world, and it makes me deliver the music in a far better way.”

Emerging with a halo of fame, the praise surrounding Chinouriri’s debut began to colour her creativity, leaving her with the idea that she had to stick to indie-specific sounds. Soon enough, she had a demo version of her lead single, ‘One Song Away From Crying’, which she set aside as a “separate” creation; not one that could find a home in her new album. It wasn’t until her producer offered some straight-talking advice which led Chinouriri to revisit the single: “My producer told me the melodies, lyrics, and voice sound exactly the same, so the music will never not sound like me. When he told me that, I thought I could create a disco fun wonky thing, and it’s completely fine. It gave me the freedom to explore with production.”

Chinouriri finds it easier to explain her new music with throwback references. She giddily brings up the Sugababes, Girls Aloud, Kylie Minogue, Madonna and Prince, beaming that she loves many genres of pop. It didn’t take her long to realise she might’ve inadvertently pigeonholed herself by trying to stick to the indie girl schtick. Her creative process expanded as she spun Labyrinth tunes, James Blake and MGMT, which brought her to a conclusive thought: if there is a time to pivot and try something new, it is now. “I wanted my singles to push the palette so that people can discover me for different sounds,” she says, “I knew when the Darlings would listen to the album, they’d see the indie sort of thing, but see there’s something different which is also quite cool.”

I’m actually obsessed with being a girl’s girl. It’s like my favourite fucking thing ever.

The album’s second song ‘Pretty Girls’ is a buoyant, funky starter; its beats fizzle as Chinouriri’s warm pop princess vocals throw you into a dance groove. It’s a conversation opener that the singer gushes about – she’s truly her for the girls, gays and theys. “I love being a woman. I also love women, and I admire women. I’ve always found women beautiful,” she explains. “I have always had an admiration for women. It was this big battle in my head where I was like, ‘what is going on?’ I was picking apart what that meant for me and what these ideas were. But isn’t it awesome that as a woman, you can explore yourself in every way possible, love whoever, and have the freedom to do it?” Her song is an ode to that joyful, silk chiffon feeling. “This includes masculine women and non-binary people. I looked at the spectrum of what being a woman is and what it represents. I was like, ‘fuck it, I want to spend the night with pretty girls’. I’m actually obsessed with being a girl’s girl. It’s like my favourite fucking thing ever.”

While much of I Think I Spoke Too Soon feels intertwined with Chinouriri’s sobriety and maturation, ‘Pretty Girls’ stands tall amongst her nuanced, glossy album. It’s more than a floaty, shiny pop song, but a message to her fanbase. “My worry was turning this [song] into a conversation about my sexuality or who I am and all this other stuff. I don’t want to make myself a figurehead in the LGBTQIA+ community because it would be a lie for me to sit here and say I’ve been discriminated against publicly for who I like, because that is not true,” she explains. “I fight for the LGBTQIA+ community because I have queer friends in the public eye, and I see what happens. People should be able to be whoever they want, and I’m going to fight for it, maybe on a far more personal level, but also allow people the platform to have their thing versus putting myself in the centre.”

These days, Chinouriri is spending less time online and, instead, is honing in on how she can make a difference in-person. We touch on Palestine, her comments about the costs of touring, and the praise received off the back of being an outspoken artist. “Sometimes I feel like it’s applauding a fish for swimming,” she laughs. “I think people in the public eye should be doing so much more. Olivia Rodrigo, she’s very cute, she’s very demure, but then gives 20 million pounds to charities, which proves what she stands for – and she’s like 23.” Chinouriri’s is deep-rooted in her artistry – she performed at Together For Palestine last year along with musicians Rina Sawayama, Riz Ahmed, PinkPantheress and Sampha, as well as dropping out of SXSW 2024 due to the festival’s relationship with US military contractors. Almost two years later, Chinouriri has remained a Y2K burgeoning popstar with her own highlights, including her recent appearance as a musical guest on SNL UK. “I spent most of it in doctor’s appointments and crying. It reminded me of BRIT School, but with more money and Amelia Dimoldenberg,” she charismatically quips. A day riddled with overcoming bronchitis and running to emergency appointments, Chinouriri took every precaution to pull off her live performance. “It was really tough; I was streaming in my dressing room. I was like, ‘I look really good’, so I’m gonna have to fake it till I make it.’

So, what does Chinouriri do in a worst-case scenario? She reminds herself she’s “a 6am baddie”; that her parents fought in Zimbabwe’s war of independence and that things “are not really that deep”. Although, she admits that she last cried two days ago. Whether dealing with bad luck during a live performance or personal plans gone awry, Chinouriri quickly learned to survive the pressure of the industry, a skill she credits to BRIT School. She recalls a time when Prince Harry arrived in their canteen, doors abruptly locked, and he walked by her. She also playfully retells a story where she heckled Simon Cowell, shouting “look what the cat dragged in!”

The BRIT School experience, while surreal, was a learning curve for Chinouriri. “It hit a point where it became kind of normal. Teachers would tell us not to chase them or ask for photos. I did ask Jessie J for a picture,” she laughs. “By the time I left BRIT School, I had this mentality of ‘act fucking normal’. It was not a normal school – our school trips were meeting Adele, Justin Bieber, and Rihanna.” It’s no surprise that the popstar academy of musicians has plenty of alumni topping the charts, but Chinouriri proudly heralds the achievements of her contemporaries. “When you see someone have a big year, it makes you feel really happy, like when I saw Cat [Burns] on Traitors or Olivia [Dean] and Lola [Young] getting a Grammy on the same night. I remember jumping in my house thinking, ‘Oh my god, yes!’” she smiles. “It’s really awesome to see people succeed when you’ve been able to see how hard they’ve worked since they were literally 16. We’re living in Olivia Dean’s world, and I love it.”

In Chinouriri’s close-out gentle existentialist track, ‘Crash This Car’, the singer dwells on multiple outcomes, addressing fantasy failure, all while quietly yearning for stability. As success and time zoom on by, the singer wonders whether she will wreck everything she’s painstakingly built. Looking back on her sobriety journey, she admits the ignorance that coloured her decisions while drinking. “My one year of sobriety near the end of making this album made me sit and realise that I really could have been a wreck by the time I’d made this,” she admits. “But I’m now the healthiest I’ve ever been and sober somehow. I’ve got my second album done. Maybe the car didn’t crash, and I think I found my middle ground. I’m sober until I want to drink, and if I open that can of worms, I hope I have enough strength to overcome it. Being aware of it is what helps me know that I won’t go down that path again.”

“We knew exactly what this was from the start,” Chinouriri croons on the last verse of ‘Crash This Car’. She mourns the multiple routes her life could have taken as she faced off her biggest challenges in real time. Now, she’s ready to unpick what this means for her next project. “Shoutout to my therapist,” she jests. “My next part is asking: what does this new version of myself mean, what does this new sober version with a healthy relationship look like, or as someone who writes about trauma but doesn’t want to put out any more trauma?”

Chinouriri seems to have no regrets with this all-encompassing glimmering album. She’s readily anticipating the hard work that comes with crafting a new project – and that doesn’t just mean with her own trauma. “There’s multiple people being murdered and we’re just sitting here. My next thing is that I’m looking at the planet and I’m looking at my own career. When my career started taking off, I had never been on more planes in my life. Is this necessary?” she adds. “ If this is what my career entails, what am I doing to counter that and try to change things? That is my next battle. It’s looking at what I do in my day-to-day life to try and combat small things that can help the planet, even in tiny ways.”

Rachel Chinouriri’s sophomore album, I Think I Spoke Too Soon, is available to stream now on Spotify and Apple Music.

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