Olivia Dean Is Bringing Back Class And Elegance To The Music Industry

Soulful, melodic, and only twenty-six, Olivia Dean writes love songs with the weariness and wonder of someone twice her age. If you’re tired of the same names dominating the charts, I have news for you: Dean is a breath of fresh air. And in an era when the “hot pop girl” sings about boys and sex or wood (nothing wrong with this, but can we admit it gets tiring?) Dean writes about love and yearning. Her voice is honey-toned, warm, and unhurried, carrying an emotional gravity that only an old soul can summon.

When you play Dean’s intro alone in The Art of Loving, you’re immediately transported into another dimension. You don’t get the urge to dance in your undies in your bedroom the same way Sabrina Carpenter compels us to, or Taylor Swift now, with The Life of a Showgirl. Dean’s vibe is more akin to a leisurely Sunday stroll with a hot cappuccino in hand, or to lying in bed, cuddling with your cat as the sun shines through your window. Her songs blend jazz warmth with a modern ease, some slow and intimate, others playful and bright.

Dean’s style sets her apart as well. Her beautiful outfits mirror her music. She deliberately chooses to adorn herself in pieces from the past, with looks that echo the ease of the ’70s. Her dresses, some from labels like KNWLS, Self-Portrait, or Valentino, recall the quiet glamour of the seventies: satin slips, modest necklines, silhouettes that follow the body rather than reveal it. Look up any performance of Dean and you’ll find her in dresses that carry the romance of the ’50s.

Onstage, she moves like someone aware of her power and allure, yet entirely uninterested in flaunting or overperforming it. It’s no wonder people have begun comparing her to Sofia Richie Grainge, as both women embody that soft, old-money polish that feels out of place in an era obsessed with spectacle and hyper-sexuality. While pop contemporaries like Sabrina Carpenter or Tate McRae turn choreography into a provocation, Dean decides to do the opposite. She stands in one spot and allows her presence and voice to do the work, and the crowd still can’t look away.

Now, she’s opening for Sabrina Carpenter’s Short n’ Sweet tour, performing in cities like Pittsburgh, Nashville, and New York. The Madison Square Garden stop marks a milestone.

She's Always Been Here

Dean’s journey is almost stubbornly traditional. “I’ve been writing music and putting songs out for almost ten years now and wanting to do music since I was like eight years old,” she told NPR’s Morning Edition in September. “So I feel like I’ve always been here.”

Born and raised in London, Dean worked hard to get to where she is. While some of her contemporaries were introduced to industry gatekeepers through their parents’ contacts, she found her footing the slow way, through open mics, YouTube uploads, and collaboration with friends.  

Her breakthrough single, “Reason to Stay,” from 2021, led to a string of intimate performances that caught the attention of critics and peers alike. Over time, she gained a loyal fanbase. When she finally released her debut album Messy in 2023, critics called it “a masterclass in control and candor,” cementing her as one of the most distinct voices in the U.K.’s neo-soul and pop space.

That success could have easily pulled her toward pop’s glossy excess, but Dean chose to go inward. Her sophomore album, The Art of Loving, produced by Zach Nahome, is gentle-sounding and grounded.

“To an eagerly awaiting audience, multi-BRIT Award and Mercury Prize nominee Olivia Dean unveils her long-awaited sophomore album The Art Of Loving,” her website reads. The album is less a product than a philosophy. “I don’t think love is just magic that happens to you,” she told her label. “You’ve got to put the time in, it’s a craft, it’s like playing an instrument or any other skill.”

Lead track “So Easy (To Fall in Love)” floats with the optimism of someone who has learned to find abundance in the everyday. “Loud,” meanwhile, strips everything away; it’s a single vocal, one take, one breath. “It’s quite a thing,” Dean admitted to NPR, “to sing to the whole world that you have been let down or that somebody didn’t want to fall in love with you. And you’re broken by it.” You get the point, right? Her album is beautiful and will make you feel like you’re falling in love over and over again.

“You’ve got to put the time in, it’s a craft, it’s like playing an instrument or any other skill.”

Dean’s rise has been quietly record-breaking. This summer, she became the first British woman since Adele to land three simultaneous Top 10 singles in the U.K. “Man I Need,” a shimmering confession of desire, climbed Spotify’s global charts and reached #37 on the Billboard Hot 100. Her songs “Nice To Each Other” and “Rein Me In” found equal traction, solidifying her as both a critical and commercial force.

Dean’s confidence reads as gentle, not guarded. “You’d be lucky to go on a date with me. I’m great,” she told NPR, laughing. Her positivity and confidence are apparent, and much of that comes from her upbringing. “My mom and my auntie are very strong, independent women,” she said. Dean also sings about women who are self-possessed, self-protective, but still open to connection. “As women, we always think about what we could be for somebody else,” she said, “and forget to think about what that person’s bringing to us. Because we’re fabulous.”

Dean’s story feels especially resonant now, when the internet is perpetually cataloging “nepo babies.” What used to be brushed off as a mere coincidence has become shorthand for creative inequality. The pendulum has swung so far that authenticity itself has become a marketing angle. Dean’s success reminds us that the long route still exists, and that talent, persistence, and character can still compete with connections.

Dean's Future

Next spring, Dean will headline her biggest tour to date, including four sold-out nights at London’s O2 Arena. She’s already a chart success, but that seems secondary to her. She’s playing the long game. For all her accolades, she still speaks like someone in awe of the process. “If someone was to say they didn’t like it, I would just be like, ‘Well, that’s fine, I love it and it’s real,’” she told NPR. “So it will never be bad for me.”