Role Model Isn’t In Kansas Anymore

“I like the fact that I am never pleased with myself,” Role Model half-sighs.

Born Tucker Pillsbury, the pop star and newly minted actor is off from shooting Good Sex, the Lena Dunham-directed rom-com he’s starring in alongside Natalie Portman and Mark Ruffalo. Role Model’s social media-famous smirk and tasseled hair point above the phone camera, as if he’s finding the words somewhere on the horizon line. “I've had this year of... whatever,” he says, referring to what anyone in the music industry would describe as a break-out cycle. “[But] this never continues forever.”

The “this” in question is clear. His sophomore album, the folk-tinged, heart-heavy Kansas Anymore, popped out with hits like “Sally, When the Wine Runs Out” and “Look At That Woman,” leading to a tour which sold more than 90,000 tickets and buzzy performances on the late-night circuit. It’s easy to take his pop pessimism (or cold realism) as false humility, but when seen through a wider lens, there’s a certain weather-worn clarity to his perspective. Pillsbury is from Maine, which he notes is the (literal) “furthest place” from Los Angeles on the US map. Maine’s seasons are harsh and filled with brittle wind and brine. California, on the other hand, offers a sort of tepid, perpetual paradise.

Moving to the country’s entertainment capital after being discovered by Mac Miller’s manager in Pittsburgh — where he was going to film school and making and releasing music from his college closet — was a culture shock, he says. Suddenly he was in the Golden State, taking meetings and crashing at Airbnbs, before signing a deal that thrust him into the rhythms of the pop machine.

“I was used to kicking rocks with my friends,” he says of his before-times. “[LA] was like a TV show in front of my eyes. I was just being judgmental and missing home.” He takes a breath. “I was just mad.”

The anger, or isolation, or just general yearning of that period became the seeds of Kansas Anymore — a title which implies the rest of the quote from Wizard of Oz, “We’re not in….” In that space of palpable homesickness, Pillsbury took time away from the riff-raff and got back to basics. Lucky for him, his debut album, Rx, didn’t necessarily resonate commercially, which gave him the luxury of less pressure from his label. He locked in with producer Noah Conrad and together, they made a guitar-forward 13-song album that circled his lonely, sunshine-weary drain.

“My favorite works of mine are my very first EP, ARIZONA IN THE SUMMER, and then this latest album, [Kansas Anymore],” he says. “I made that first EP by myself. It was just me making decisions, mixing in my closet. I loved that,” he shares. “After that, I signed a deal and went to LA and now I’m in these studios where someone is mixing my vocals in the chair … the pieces that you love [about making music] become roles that are being filled by other people.”

His return to simplicity is audible. Whereas his previous work was more genre-bending and, at times, more adherent to pop forms, this music is more meandering and folksy. “Dad's on the phone, and he's lecturing me/ About a girl that he met back when he was nineteen/ It's never gonna work 'cause the puzzle won't piece,” he opens the album on “Writing’s On The Wall,” before finishing the story in a later chorus: “‘Cause the girl that I love never treated me nice/ Writing's on the wall, I pretend I can't read.” It’s a sort of quintessential line from Pillsbury, one that gestures towards outward anger before pointing the finger at himself.

Looming over the album, and discussions of it, is the fact that Pillsbury had a very public relationship (and break-up) with internet and fashion star Emma Chamberlain. On songs that discuss heartache and heartbreak, Pillsbury is quick to take a weary, at times masochistic, form of accountability: “Don't hesitate/ To call me up and curse me out,” he sings in a cracking croon on album standout “Oh, Gemini.”

Maybe, though, it’s hard to be nervous about sharing your life when your music’s largest revelation is your own self-critique. There’s little drama here. Just the sad and relatable truth of looking at your life in the faded mirror and sighing. “It makes me want to be a better person,” Pillsbury says of his bend towards self-deprecation.

It makes sense then that Dunham, the great bard of messy self-knowledge, saw a kindred soul in Pillsbury. In Good Sex, Pillsbury plays a young man in a love triangle with a couples therapist (Portman), and a more mature counterpart (played by Ruffalo). It’s quite the crew to find himself beside for his first acting role, which he says “wasn't in the books.” Luckily, though, he has support. “Lena has been talking to me on a daily basis since September, and walking me through this for months,” he beams. “She has held my hand through the whole thing.”

While we eagerly await his on-screen debut, PAPER chatted with the ever-open multi-hyphenate about his entry into the world of acting, missing Maine and staying weary in the face of success.

What’s surprised you about your first acting experience so far?

My experience is very unique. I’m so spoiled because of this crew and Lena [Dunham]. It’s an insane cast and an amazing director. I went to film school, and it feels like a student film in the way that we're all friends. No one has raised their voice once. It's very laid back for how big of a production it is. I don't think I'll ever have such a fun easygoing experience like this [again].

Do you enjoy acting?

I enjoy acting. I'm figuring it out as we go. It. I didn't take any courses. [Acting] wasn't in the books. But Lena [Dunham] has been talking to me on a daily basis since September, and walking me through this for months. She has held my hand through the whole thing. So it's new, but she's making it feel very low pressure.

What’s a piece of advice that she’s given that has resonated?

She sends me a sentimental text at the end of every shoot day. They're all things that I would frame and remember. [She told me], “Remember your lines and then forget them.” That was the biggest thing that helped me. She’s a fucking life coach.

Let’s talk Role Model. The new record is self-reflective and, dare I say, self-deprecating. Have you always been that way?

I've always been very hard on myself in music and in life. To be honest, I wouldn't ever want to change that. I love that part of myself because I’m never bathing in success. There's always a thought of, “Oh, I could have done this better.” I like that part of myself, because it makes me want to get better at things and be a better person. If you're constantly like, “I was not the problem in a relationship,” or, “I fucking killed that whole tour. I’m a fucking star:” [I think] those are bad thoughts. I like the fact that I am never pleased with myself.

The record is a lot about yearning for home after you’ve relocated to LA. Can you describe how being in LA was affecting you?

As a younger man, I would just rip LA apart all the time. Finally, after four and a half years, I moved from West Hollywood to the east side. I was in this weird bubble, which is not a good way to judge the entire city. Every city has that, but it was just a culture shock for me. LA couldn't be more opposite from where I was from. It’s literally the furthest from Maine, but also I got thrown into LA through the lens of West Hollywood and the music industry. I was used to kicking rocks with my friends. I don't want to talk shit on LA. I have a new appreciation for it now, but at the time it was just a culture shock. I was just observing everything. I’d forget that I was in a conversation with the person I'm at dinner with. It was like a TV show in front of my eyes. I was just being judgmental and missing home. I was just mad.

There's LA and then there's music industry-LA, especially in the major label world. You were instantly put into this system with writers, sessions and producers. It’s a machine of its own, and you had to suddenly learn it.

My favorite work of mine is my very first EP, ARIZONA IN THE SUMMER, and then this latest album, [Kansas Anymore]. I made that first EP in my closet by myself. I had no one to show it to at the time. It was just me making decisions, mixing in my closet and I loved that. After that, I signed a deal and went to LA and now I’m in these studios where someone is mixing my vocals in the chair.

The pieces that you love about [making music] become roles that are being filled by other people. It is like a machine. The label starts being like, “Let's bring in songwriters, because maybe it's not working yet. So let's try some things to really get some hits.”

Luckily, I was pretty good about putting my foot down about songwriters. But there's a window of projects that was me trying to be this pop star for the label, or do what I thought that they wanted. It wasn't them. I love Interscope. It was me thinking that I had to get on my knees and suck off this label. But that's not the point.

And then finally, with the latest album, I didn't show anyone anything for a long time. Noah [Conrad] and I did this by ourselves. I wrote a lot of this album on a guitar in my living room. It was this full-circle moment of me bringing back the DIY side of the process that I loved. But there's that gap of time that I was in the label machine, and had a lot of confusion and self doubt.

Did you have to actively tell everyone, “I'm going to do it my way?”

I don't think they cared that much. It was in my head, but it was also just quiet at the label, especially around my first album, Rx. I had a lot of time. The first album didn't do amazing, so I didn't feel massive pressure.

It must feel very satisfying that this new record, which is so honest, is resonating commercially to the extent that it is. Is there any surprise in that?

100%. Back to our self-doubt conversation: I keep very low expectations for everything, especially for this album. [Its success] was the biggest shock, because I took two years off pretty much writing and not touring at all. We didn't do any shows, and I was off the internet for the most part. I was just like, “I guess we'll put this out? Here we go.” But I kept very low expectations for that and for the tour, but I like that. It makes the small successes feel very big.

The record is quite personal and quite clear about how it relates to your personal life. Did you have fear in sharing it?

I really don't think about it when we're making the music, writing the songs. Maybe, if anything, the day before, I'll be like, “Oh, maybe this will cause issues.” But there’s no thought in that really.

How does it feel performing this music that relates to difficult experiences all the time?

I’m pretty good at repressing and not going there. It's very easy for me to be shot into a spiral and go down a whole wormhole. When I’m doing a show, that is not what I'm thinking about. I think, How can I flip this to put a smile on someone's face?

Is there any fun in being back online now, and seeing the spread of the work?

I just don't take it seriously. I set a tone for my social media a long time ago. People who know me know that nothing I say on the internet is real or serious, and people who don't … it makes for very fun [X] threads that I love to engage with and get into arguments about. It's very fun.

Do you look at the Stan Twitter discourse [on X]?

I don’t generally go through comments on [X]. It's usually like, whatever's on my homepage when I'm scrolling that I'll engage with. But I don't look at the Pop Crave comments, let’s put it that way.

I noticed Pop Crave was on your “enemies list?”

They have a permanent residency on that. But yeah, I just want people to know where I stand so I update [the list] as life plays out. It's once every month or two where there will be a change, and I'll let people know. Pop Crave did something that they have opportunities to change. Same with MTV: if they want to nominate me for something this year, that would be a quick way to get them off the list. It’s good to keep counts.

I saw that you said “enjoying your 15 minutes” on Instagram. Are you just trying to keep expectations low, or is that an actual fear of yours?

It's not a fear. It’s a reality. You see this happen all the time. I've had this year of... whatever. This never continues forever. At some point, people just aren't going to care as much as they do now. It's good to prep.

You'll go to Maine and start a farm?

I'll have a nice simple life once people stop caring. We’ll see.