Mom Rock: How Pink Remained a Megastar By Becoming Uncool

Every time I go to a barre or exercise class, I can guarantee a few things. There are certain songs or musicians who will always appear on whatever playlist my instructor has chosen. There’s lots of Britney, Kylie, Beyonce, Cher… and Pink. But it’s not the Pink songs I grew up with. It’s the newer ones with titles like ‘Never Gonna Not Dance Again’ that feel like they could be played in a Trolls sequel. It’s good music to do squats to, and it gets a room full of sweaty women in leggings amped up. But it was a reminder to me that Pink is also still very much a major artist, even if she isn’t frequently talked about as such.

Pink gave a fascinating interview to 60 Minutes where she was asked how she felt about ‘never winning the popularity contest’ in the music industry. ‘We sold three million tickets in the last six months, but you don’t really hear about it unless you went,’ she said. It was part of a wider answer about wanting to create a safe space for her fans and being unconcerned with headlines about her work, but it revealed a fascinating truth about the singer. She is, indeed, a very big deal, even if she’s seldom talked about as such. Her 2023/24 Summer Carnival tour is the second highest-grossing tour ever by a woman performer, ahead of Beyoncé’s Renaissance World Tour but behind the Eras Tour (by quite a margin because Taylor Swift rules all.) Her follow-up tour for the album Trustfall grossed over $109 million. In a year where female musicians dominated the live touring scene, Pink was one of its biggest stars. Did you hear about it? Pink was right: you didn’t unless you bought the ticket.

When Pink first emerged on the scene, she was heavily positioned as the anti-Britney and Christina, something she played into with some choice quotes. The teeny bopper pop girlies were sweet, blonde, and sexy but still safe. Pink was edgy, more RnB, more likely to swear in your face and do a shot of tequila. Even her name, a joke about her vagina, made her seem more in-your-face than her contemporaries. Her 2000 debut album Can’t Take Me Home was executive produced by L.A. Reid, who had encouraged Pink to go solo after being part of the girl band Choice with two other young women. Critics compared the album to TLC, Aaliyah, and Destiny’s Child, and her sound was viewed as being thoroughly Black. In a 2019 piece for Jezebel, Ashley Ray noted how frequently Pink was viewed as being a Black or mixed-race woman during this time because of her sound and aesthetic. During a 2000 interview, she played coy over questions of her race, saying, ‘They totally think I’m mixed! I’m like, whatever! Like, I’m a mutt. We all are. We all came from the same place: God. That’s how I explain it, we’re all pink on the inside.’

Pink has long expressed disappointment with that album and described the follow-up, Missundaztood, as the beginning of her ‘true’ sound. That meant being more rock-oriented, and less ‘urban.’ It worked because songs like ‘Get the Party Started’ and ‘Don’t Let Me Get Me’ were far bigger hits than anything from her debut. It also stopped her from being endlessly compared to the likes of Spears, which she sang about on the latter number. Deeply personal songs like ‘Family Portrait’ fleshed out her image too, adding that strain of relatability that often felt absent from her peers. Rolling Stone called it ‘the teen-pop In Utero’, which also taps into another aspect of her enduring popularity: understanding her core audience was ageing up and there was a gap in the market for adolescent angst. Emo was in, glitter was out, and Avril Lavigne talked about skater boys.

Missundaztood continued to be Pink’s defining sound for the rest of her career: pop-rock that jumped between party bangers and raw personal confessions. She sang about the loss of good friends, of dirtbag men, and of her hatred of ‘stupid girls’ like Paris Hilton. That song was declared a biting feminist anthem at the time but aged like milk in ways I’ve previously discussed. But it helped that ‘not like the other girls’ image Pink had cultivated since her earliest days. On her album Funhouse, she got raw about her separation from her husband Carey Hart (they got back together.)

Over the past decade, as Pink has become a mother and a juggernaut touring act, her sound has gotten more pop-focused, albeit with some guitars in the mix. Personally, I think her songs have gotten worse, far cheesier and less interesting than what she was doing a few albums ago. But I’m apparently in the minority. This is when she entered what I think can best be described as her mom rock era. That’s not seen as a positive descriptor in pop culture terms. It’s the height of uncool to be beloved by mums, even if that’s the demographic with all of the disposable income who should be more thoroughly pandered to. And that drives home why Pink has endured: Pink grew up alongside her fans. Those former angsty teens are now parents themselves, and Pink’s music never stopped being for them.

In an industry that’s notoriously sexist and ageist, being a popstar in your 30s means you’re likely to be called a has-been hag for daring to sing and dance on stage. Madonna was labelled a grandma at 35. Beyoncé is constantly told to dress less revealingly. Pink’s ageing up didn’t soften her image or see her give up the qualities her fans love her for. She’s still swinging from the rooftops and spiking her hair up fabulously. Nobody expected Pink to become Leonard Cohen (although come on, imagine that.) Still, she’s got a softer sheen to her and centres her family frequently in ways that highlight her emotional resonance. Her songs are about how it’s cool to be a dork, but she also uses her music to speak out on issues like Roe V. Wade. There’s sadness in her songs but also lots of get-up-and-go self-motivation encouraging you to be yourself and dance, dammit. Interviews talk up how down-to-earth and relatable she is, and she gives good one-liners, not as blunt as she used to be but still witty and with a few profanities here and there. She’s a wine mom with her own vineyard.

And, of course, there are the acrobatics. This is a woman who puts on a capital-S Show. you get your money’s worth at a Pink concert. Don’t dismiss the power of being beloved by mums the world over. And I do mean the world over. When Pink goes on an international tour, she goes to a lot of places that aren’t on other megastars’ schedules. She did 20 nights in Australia and New Zealand during her Summer Carnival tour, which builds up real fan loyalty. She is HUGE in Australia. According to Billboard, her Aussie concerts were projected to be the ‘biggest-selling Australian visit ever by a female artist.’

She’s not quite in legacy artist territory yet since her newer songs still chart and get solid radio play, although she’s also moved beyond being the kind of singer who creatively rocks the boat. I’m not sure we’d ever get a Renaissance or brat or even a Midnights from Pink. That’s not what her devotees desire. Why rock the boat when it’s home to a sold-out world tour?

Pink has savvily changed her sound and style without seeming to change who she is. She’s just older now, maybe a bit wiser but not boring. Transitioning to one’s mom era, the adult contemporary sound of 2025, is just savvy business and she does it well. And through it all, Pink has remained beloved. She hasn’t suffered a harsh backlash as is seemingly mandatory for female musicians. She’s been scandal-free. There hasn’t been a flop era or a contingent of anti-Pink fans plaguing fandom discourse. Being uncool, or at least not part of the endless chasing of the zeitgeist, has its benefits. After a tough life full of hardship, sticking to the middle of the road is a comfort we all desire. Isn’t that what Pink’s music is all about now?