We Must Protect Billie Eilish At All Costs

Billie Eilish is the first real artist to emphasize the elder in my title of elder millennial. I didn’t get it. I knew I was outnumbered by those who did get it and appreciated that, but went about my business. After all, I grew up with the belly-baring, hair highlighted to hell likes of Britney, Christina, and Jessica. And, with the exception of her literal highlighting techniques, Billie is nothing like that. But more importantly, she needs to never be that.

Billie Eilish: The World’s A Little Blurry helped me to understand. The new Apple TV+ documentary is two hours and twenty-one minutes which means that it gives a comprehensive explanation as to why anyone should get it: because her generation does. And I can only hope, and all evidence suggests, they won’t get it wrong the way we did.

It’s hard not to compare this documentary to the one we’ve been talking about all month, The New York Times Presents: Framing Britney Spears. The two stars rose to fame in the back half of their teenage years and very quickly became icons that had dollar signs showing up in the eyes of everyone at their labels. But in all the ways Britney was failed — by her family, the media, expectations on young women and their bodies, society as a whole — Billie has so far flourished. And we, as the general public and her fans, must do everything to keep it that way.

This documentary feels more authentic than most, perhaps because Eilish is an artist seemingly more authentic than most. As far as I could tell, at times it was Billie or her brother/producer Finneas documenting their recording sessions via their own iPhone footage, which automatically eliminates having another strange presence in the room. Not that Billie holds back, at home or on stage. She’s open about her struggles with mental health and the dark thoughts that have turned into hits, and there doesn’t seem to be an opinion that’s formed in her brain that doesn’t tumble out of her mouth. And while most are released in a typical teen manner, few are laced with a brattiness that isn’t firmly planted in common sense. This is all to say: she’s a smart cookie. She thinks about her personality, her perception as an artist, and her brand, and executes in the way that feels natural and correct for her. That doesn’t mean there aren’t the occasional label bros with smug smiles in the room. It just means she only gives them as much value as they deserve in the matter (much less than they believe they do!).

What the documentary really highlights is that the key to an artist like Billie is that she’s a fan. A real one. Her obsession with Justin Bieber is not only relatable, it’s fully shaped who she is as an artist. While it had her mom worried earlier in her teens for being so “lovesick” over him, it’s also laid a foundation to the relationship she has with her own fans. Allowing herself to be enveloped in group hugs (alarming in covid times, admirable in normal times), not wanting to perform unless she can give them the show she wants to and the one she believes they deserve, and most importantly, checking in with them. “Are you guys ok?” she asks from the stage. “Hey, you guys need to be fucking ok because y’all are the reason I’m ok, ok?” she tells them. Britney would’ve never been allowed to be that honest. “I don’t think of them as fans, ever. They’re not my fans, they’re like part of me,” Billie tells the camera in a way that doesn’t feel like a line that was fed to her by a publicist but a feeling she knows deep in her heart.

When she falls flat on her butt at the very beginning of a show in Milan, cries, and walks off the stage, refusing to perform unless she can be in peak form, it was confusing at first. I’d never seen an artist really do anything except adopt a “show must go on” mentality and fake it. But there was an authenticity to her refusal to put on a half-assed show that couldn’t be ignored and could only be extra appreciated in a world of filter-filled feeds.

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At this point in history, it should feel trite to discuss her appearance, and it is. But for those who continue to feel the need to comment on it, the documentary should (it won’t, but it should) shut that down. Her clothing, baggy as ever, has not stopped the world from sexualizing her. There is no XXL sweatsuit that ever could. But it’s a sign that she’s not caving in or being corrupted by outside opinions — not to mention ahead of the 2020 fashion trends and likely as comfortable as possible at most times in her life. When she’s caught in a bodycon dress, someone call an emergency meeting (and we’re lucky she has a handful of people around her that wouldn’t hesitate to). Let’s appreciate that we don’t know what her midriff looks like. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have one. It just means how toned it is matters not at all to who she is as a person or an artist, a lesson she’s passing on, inadvertently or otherwise, to Gen Z and beyond.

It was her idol Justin Bieber who said it best in a sweet note after her Coachella performances where they met for the first time: “Embrace it all, believe you are great but not greater than anyone.” Billie used the opportunity to point at the camera after reading that line aloud, as though she not only endorsed it, but already knew it. Part of that comes from the family structure she’s got around her: a music-loving family that isn’t pushy or overly fame or money-hungry. Finneas is certainly a large key to her success in the way they work together because he knows how to talk to Billie. He can present ideas and suggestions without being disrespectful — though maybe those moments are when cameras arent rolling, sure. But there’s a care there and a trust in her process and taste. There’s an authenticity and collaboration to their homemade albums and process that allow for her unedited voice to show she’s not just a product. Finneas knows when to be reassuring, confidently stating that she’s “very good and there are lots of people that would agree” with him without ever truly blowing smoke. The parents are supportive and even able to admit when they “failed” her, pushing for more pictures and handshakes with strangers at a meet and greet. They also seem to have created a layer of protection in between her and the bitter cruelty of the industry, which is… unprecedented. Hell, they tell her she’s brave and to “have a great time” before she steps on the Coachella stage, like she’s going to a party at a friend’s house.

When it comes to Billie’s self-esteem, I want to both hug her and high-five her. There’s some negative self-talk that transcends self-deprecation that I’d love for her to shake, as someone who is still struggling to shake it myself over a decade (and a half) later. I hope she does take Katy Perry up on her offer to talk! But there’s also something realistic about the way she views herself and her place in the world. It would’ve meant the world to me as a teen to know the artists I looked up to weren’t actually 100% confident in themselves at all times. I can’t help but reference a recent joke in comedian Rose Matafeo’s stand-up special Horndog, where she says “Has anyone recently met a teenager with high self-esteem? Yeah, because it’s fucked up.” Teens are supposed to be hormonal, awkward, angsty, and unsure about things, and Billie wears that as a badge, even when she’s got an armful of gold trophies. That doesn’t mean she’s lacking in self-awareness, and even likely above average in self-assuredness. She’s very, very much in touch with her mental health, even knowing when that means she hasn’t been taking care of it enough. Telling a sold-out crowd, “I don’t know why you like me, I really don’t,” is honest, yes, but it’s also essential for putting her on the same level as those paying customers cheering their support for that statement. Gen Z, likely due to growing up on the internet, has a democratic vibe about them that no other generation ever has. We’re all equal. We can all tweet and TikTok and doubt ourselves from a stage just the same. What she’s really got working for her is that she understands the importance of the internet while not solely depending on it.

It’s not just that she has a village counting on her at this point that Billie feels both wise beyond and more connected than ever to her years. She’s in tune with her physical body breaking down (and when whining about having to do daily exercises — this never gets easier, my friend). She’s aware of wanting different things than her boyfriend and ultimately very maturely splitting with him and still handling those feelings in the middle of a tour. My god, could you imagine? I thought keeping the relationship secret was impressive, but navigating a breakup in between sets is remarkable (as well as horrific and unenviable to the max). The documentary also allows Billie to show what her Tourettes looks like, and show us how rough it is for her to see one comment that she was maybe rude at a meet and greet. She sleeps through the Grammy announcements. She shares messages of being present. And gosh, that unprocessable moment when she finally met Justin Bieber. Go check yourself if your face doesn’t hurt from smiling.

All this is to say, if you don’t get Billie Eilish, you don’t have to. The connection she has with her audience is undeniable, and it’s one that can only be built by being on’s true, vulnerable self, which I hope she continues to do for her long career ahead. Seeing footage from that tour, it looks like a crowd there to see Green Day instead of a pop star, and while she’s somewhat of both, the sentiment is still the same: I feel this. They may as well be chanting at her, “One of us!” It’s not about if I see her talent or you see her talent, it’s about the people that do see it, and she’s got a whole hell of a lot that do. Including Justin Bieber.

Billie Eilish isn’t going anywhere, and this documentary did a great job of showing exactly why. “For the next rest of the videos, I’m directing them all myself,” she states, and she means it. She does it. Her vision, her direction: it’s impressive. It’s focused on a career while never losing focus on who she actually is as a human (and a 19-year-old!). The internet has connected people to people, to artists, and to feelings, and Billie is basically the poster girl for all of that. And, luckily for her generation, she’s actually in control — and she’s ok, so they’re ok.

Stream Billie Eilish: The World's A Little Blurry on Apple TV+