Cailin Russo is That Bitch
The genre-jumping industry vet is back and brooding for Scare
The star appears onscreen, hugging her knees to her chest, donning a ‘Meanest Girl in LA’ baby tee (which I Googled and purchased shortly after our call) and crunching potato chips. Immediately, I ascertain Cailin Russo is someone I’d like to get martinis with— inviting and witty, with an exact idea of who she is. And, she knows all too well, she is that bitch. Minutes into our conversation, she shares that lately, she’s focused on ‘a lot of therapy work,’ and ‘developing a deep self worth,’ unflinchingly, sincerely self-aware— a jolt of softness that juxtaposes her hot-girl-of-the-millenium persona. Her eyes trail off screen every few minutes as she weaves thoughts, quilting together the history of her past decade-and-a-half traversing across industries (model, video vixen of the Bieber aughts, 1.5% of a Grammy winner, producer and recording artist). Sometimes, it’s as if she herself can’t even believe the exploits she’s recounting. Russo may seldom have known where the next whim (see: keenly informed creative risk) would lead, but she has always been certain that stardom was the destination. Now, a scheduled-in summer that kicked off with an electric WeHo Pride performance has paved the way to a fall full of new music (her latest track ‘Back to You’ was written in collaboration with For Love & Lemons & ACOTAR), fan activations, and the recent release of her dark-pop EP Scare. 2026 brought Heated Rivalry features (at pivotal plot points, no less!) and Meg Stalter collabs, alongside the skyrocket of her personal, self-titled project. Russo’s star is ascending, and quick— already outshining everyone in her path as she cements a rightful icon status.
DW: Did you always want to get into music? Have your numerous past lives been leading to this culminative goal, or was it more of a blind, winding road?
CR: I was shy with my true desires. I wanted to be in theater and do all these artistic things. I was a cheerleader instead of doing dance or starting a band. I definitely took the easy route. As a child, I was very influenced by Gwen Stefani and the Spice Girls. I’ve always been motivated to be a star.
DW: What influenced that leap of confidence to pursue stardom?
CR: When I was 16, I got a new wave of confidence. I had a house fire, so my dad moved us into one of his friend’s homes. There was a studio at the house, and I asked if I could record a song. Being able to see a studio, and slowly come out of my shell, helped me to walk through what this could look like instead of jumping in with two feet. The same goes for modeling. I was at an extreme sporting showcase, working a booth. An agent saw me there and was like, “Do you want a model?” I was like, “I’ve never thought about it, but sure.” Basically, I don’t know where the boost of confidence came from. Maybe it was the house fire, or maybe it was a change of teenage desire.
DW: Talk me through what the creation process looked like at the beginning of your career, and how it’s evolved.
CR: My house was musical. My dad’s in a rock band. I am obsessed with hip hop— Talib Kweli, A Tribe Called Quest, Amy Winehouse, anything that sampled jazz and hip hop. I was very inclined to drums, and I was so over rock music because that’s what I grew up with. I was a bad kid in high school. I got in trouble. When I was 18, I decided to get serious. My modeling career was doing really well, so I would go to sleep at nine, wake up at five, go to gym, go to castings all day. That was my whole life for three years. Then, I met this music producer in London. He stole my heart. I started dating him, and simultaneously, I did the Bieber videos that springboarded my social net worth. The guy I was seeing started to produce my music. We dropped ‘September Rose’ which did really well.
DW: Between ‘September Rose’ and the Bieber videos, things were taking off pretty quickly. When did music become a profession?
CR: I had a toxic manager who was like, “You’re never gonna make it as a solo act. We’re gonna start a band.” I was like 22 and very malleable. We started Russo with the label, and I wanted to call it Blush so badly. They never wanted to go with any of my ideas. Russo did take my music into a different range sonically. Around that time, I dropped all of my modeling agencies. Then, I broke up with my boyfriend, the English musician, and broke up with the label almost simultaneously. It’s so weird that I’m even talking about it right now because I’m going through the same exact change right now, 10 years later. My very opinionated old manager left me with the words, “You’ll never be able to figure out who you are.”
DW: Oh, fabulous. What kind parting words! Now, I imagine, a fire is definitely lit to succeed. Tell me where you go from there.
CR: I made this album called In Flux, with every sound that I’ve been inspired by on one record— intelligent dance music, Reggae, hard dance music, ballads, and indie. During that time, I was reached out to by the Yeezy team. They kept asking me to come in. I thought I had COVID, so I kept putting it off. When I finally went in, it was just me and Kanye. He wanted me to work on the Yeezy clothing side. I told him I was committed to music. He’s like, ‘Oh, really? Play me something.’ I played ‘Lonely Estate’. Then I said, “Play me something.” He played me ‘In Jail’ from Donda One.
DW: Wow. You two have had a great collaborative relationship over the past few years. How did you come to be as involved as you were?
CR: A couple weeks passed from that first meeting. I went to the Dominican Republic to shoot my album content. I pulled out a small business loan to fund that trip, because I wasn’t backed by any label. I came back, got my IUD taken out, and Kanye texted me: ‘Hey, I want you to come to the studio and listen to music.’ I responded, ‘Okay, I can come tomorrow because I just got my IUD taken out. It’s gonna have to wait.’ The next day, he’s playing all of his music for me. There are crazy people in the room: Swizz Beatz, A$AP Rocky, Mowalola. That night, he said, ‘I want you here until the project is done.’ I worked with him for three months, assembling freestyles. I actually had a real knack for it. We worked in L.A., San Francisco, Mexico, and Atlanta. I contributed one line to ‘Hurricane’. That gave me 1.5% of publishing on the record that won a Grammy. It was a ‘holy shit’ moment. That crew was such a boys club. I was gaslit the fuck out of. No one in that camp had my back except for Ye. I don’t know if that’s okay to say right now, but he held that shit down for me.
DW: You contributed to one of the century’s most prolific artist’s Grammy-winning albums at such a young age. How do you decide where to aim your career from there?
CR: Things were radio silent for two years. I put out music on my own. I popped some stuff out on SoundCloud. Shit was mad slow, so I got a job at a retail store selling Birkins. I went through another breakup, and was couch surfing. After work one day, I called my best friend and was like, “Yo, do you want to spin the block and we’ll put on [my song] ‘Triple It’?” which hadn’t been released yet. Shortly after that ride, I published it out on a whim and it went fucking viral. ‘Triple It’ got me signed to 10k Projects. As soon as I got the official offer from the label, I put in my two weeks at the store. I was falling in love. It was all very fun.
DW: There seems to be a pattern for you wherein pendulum swing life changes coincide with one another. What era would you say you’re in now, sonically and otherwise?
CR: I want to make this album called Don’t Scare Billy about my villain era. Essentially, I was listening to Billie Eilish’s ‘bad guy’, and wanted to make a project that was much darker, more editorial and brooding than my typical sound. I am a grunge girl. I love glamour, I love glitz. I love fucking being a hot bitch. But, in my heart, I’m a nasty indie girl.
DW: What’s the biggest shift in your life that you didn’t foresee coming from virality?
CR: Girl, I have no fucking idea. I didn’t even have a house. It’s very affirming to have such a good year and just be like, ‘Okay, all I got to do is just keep going.’
DW: Was there ever a time when you thought, ‘I think I’m just gonna walk away from this music thing?’
CR: With modeling, I was like, ‘I don’t care. This is vapid. This is not serving a greater good.’ Honestly, it’s a bag. I’m so lucky to do it as my side thing. I should probably have a better five year plan, but I’m a rock star. That’s my north star. Of course I want to walk away, but, the truth is I’m gonna see this all the way through. Even as I’m going through the throes of another manager-boyfriend breakup.
DW: At least it’s land you’ve tread before. You know the territory.
CR: It is, but I forgot how bad it hurts. Every day is like, ‘What are we gonna do today? Are we gonna cry all day, or are we gonna be productive today?’
DW: You’re mourning a couple of things at once, but also you have like such a star rising right now. Is that weird to contend with: being arguably at the peak of your career thus far while shouldering this?
CR: I do find that that’s kind of where the good shit comes in, at the bottom. There is a fucking rope that gets thrown down the well.
DW: Creatively, it’s a rich mine too. I imagine there’s a brooding happening.
CR: Yeah, a very pregnant mind.
DW: There’s such a renaissance for a strong feminine sound in music right now. Why do you think that is?
CR: I think there’s a collective female rage. So much has been bubbling under the surface for so many people, that it’s finally like, ‘Soft for what? Small for who?’ People have nothing to lose. The more in your truth you are, the more embodied you are. That’s what I’ve tried to accomplish with my music, especially on these recent projects.
DW: You’ve crafted an abundant world around your latest releases, between visuals, socials, and opportunities for fans to interact directly with you. Do you set forth with a specific vision you want to convey for each project, or do you let your heart lead?
CR: I have tried to put parameters on my visual language, but it’s so natural. I made a brand bible that I reference often, but it’s mostly inspired as I go, by what feels right. Energy goes where your focus flows. This is all I think about, all day, every day. You can tell when someone isn’t in alignment with what they’re doing. It’s messy.
DW: It’s no secret you have become a pillar of the queer community— Pride performances, a verse on Meg Stalter’s ‘BRR’, and a Heated Rivalry feature only further stoked that flame. Is this something you foresaw for your sound?
CR: Most of my friends are lesbians. I fucking love lesbians. I also am thrilled to make music that appeals to the male gays— LOL, ‘the male gays’. I’m writing that down in my Notes App (she does so). They hold all of the power in music. I’ve always wanted to be a hag– can I say that? I’m going to say that. I’ve always wanted to be a hag, and it’s happened in this beautiful, loophole way.
Heated Rivalry, specifically, was an unreal moment. I didn’t know it was going to happen. When it did, I was at a really low point— the bottom of the well. The episode went live, and my phone started blowing up. That was my rope thrown down into the well.
DW: With so many bucket-list collaborations already under your belt, who are you eyeing next?
CR: I’m the biggest girls’ girl. I love Tinashe, I love Slayyyter. I want to collaborate with whoever wants to work with me. Meg and Ye both wanted to work with me.
DW: Having such high-level experience at the onset of your career, in the studio with Kanye and co., must have influenced the way you approach your own production. What did you take from your early days in the industry to your own project?
CR: I had Kanye listen to my whole album. He soundboarded and gave me notes for it, and then I went into sessions after for alterations. I had already like dreamscaped it out. I definitely came in with much more clarity and attention to detail.
DW: Tell us whatever you can about what’s coming up next.
CR: I’m so excited to drop the album. It will be coming out late fall, if everything goes to plan.
DW: So much of your work is very tactile. You really create an immersion for fans. Is that an intentional effort?
CR: I’m a fucking slave to my music. I work for my fans as much as I can. I want to connect even more. I’m trying to figure out how to be more relatable, more engaged.
DW: Does it ever feel like a chore to be so on, or do you love it, because you’re this is your whole life? You are now also your own manager. Can it feel claustrophobic, or is it what you’ve always wanted?
CR: It gets intense, but I have people that care about me. I love it. I don’t want to do anything else, and I want to do it even better so that I don’t have to do that much. It’s been a lot of me tripping over my own feet. I don’t give a fuck. I’m trying.
DW: Who did you have on repeat when making this album?
CR: The inspiration for Don’t Scare Billy was a mix of Salem, Ethel Cain, and Post Malone. Sleigh Bells and Rocky— a mix of heavy indie and then heavy hip hop— were also on nonstop while making this record.
DW: What do you feel like you learned between the first and the second? Was there anything you did with Influx that you wouldn’t on Don’t Scare Billy or vice versa?
CR: Influx was so informative. I feel like Influx is literally a perfect album. There’s nothing I would change. I’m in the same place with Don’t Scare Billy. It has the touches of femininity, masculinity. It has sonic impact. It’s very heavy. If I were to make it a movie genre, it would be like David Cronenberg’s Crash, or very David Lynchian coded. Whereas Influx was more contemporary, like A24. I’m really excited for Don’t Scare Billy because it is so insular. Influx was its own world, and I’m excited for Don’t Scare Billy to be its own world, as well. At first, Don’t Scare Billy was going to be my rock persona. It ended up turning into something so much bigger.
DW: Do you feel like this is your most ambitious project to date?
CR: I would say that this is Influx round two. I’m already excited to make the third iteration.
