If New York is a city of ghosts, Chappell Roan is dancing with every last one of them in her latest release, “The Subway.” The track arrives with a camp-soaked visual companion that feels like a fever dream from the queer subconscious: part drag fantasy, part haunted romance, all Chappell.
Roan has a knack for using humor to expose raw nerve endings. In “The Subway,” she weaponizes nostalgia and wigs—lots of wigs—to tell the story of a woman haunted by her ex. One glimpse of a stranger’s hair on the train is enough to send her spiraling, chasing ghosts through the city in a haze of grief, glamour, and glitter. “I see your shadow / I see it even with the lights off,” she sings, before delivering a line that deserves to be screamed in unison at future live shows: “I made a promise, if in four months this feeling ain’t gone / Well, f*ck this city! I’m movin’ to Saskatchewan!”
The video leans into the absurd, and it works. Two Cousin It-style creatures chase each other through subway tunnels, and a drag ball erupts in a blink—naturally. Roan thrives in this intersection of melodrama and mascara. Every frame drips with irony, grief, and defiance, held together by a deep love for performance art. She doesn’t wink at the audience—she invites them to the show and hands them a wig on the way in.
Musically, “The Subway” is Roan returning to form after the twangy detour of “The Giver.” Fans nervous about a permanent country turn can relax—this is a synthy, emotive, melodramatic pop ballad through and through. She remains one of the few pop artists today who can make devastation sound like an inside joke shared with thousands of people at once.
Roan’s world is growing weirder and more honest with each release. “The Subway” confirms what longtime listeners already knew: heartbreak might be brutal, but with the right eyeliner and a killer chorus, it can be iconic.