“I have a right to stand up for myself,” says Joshua Bassett on Thanksgiving day in Upstate New York. The singer and High School Musical: The Musical: The Series star has invited me to the mountaintop recording studio nestled between Kingston and Woodstock where he’s been living for the past few weeks; the only other presences on its 20 acres are his producer, Davis Naish, and two dogs, Charlie and Chloe. Bassett wants me to hear his three new songs called “Crisis,” “Secret,” and “Set Me Free,” which are streaming today. He also wants to explain what they’re about, which turns out to be a somewhat complicated endeavor.
When Bassett says he has a right to stand up for himself, he’s talking about the experience he went through at the beginning of this year, after his High School Musical co-star Olivia Rodrigo’s debut single, “Drivers License,” went to number one and racked up the most streams ever for a single day on Spotify. Fans who were already convinced that the pair were dating were also convinced that the breakup referenced in “Drivers License” (“You’re probably with that blonde girl/Who always made me doubt/She’s so much older than me/She’s everything I’m insecure about”) was about Bassett, and that he was to blame for the separation. “I would see TikToks with like 50 million views and 10 million likes saying, ‘If I ever see that kid on the street, I’m going to fucking kill him,’” Bassett says. “It’s hard to see that and then be living in New York and walking down the street.”
Bassett in Nashville, Tennessee, earlier this year, between writing sessions for “Crisis,” “Secret” and “Set Me Free.”
Courtesy of Luke RogersBassett spoke with GQ about that moment back in May, in an interview in which he also came out as “a part of the LGBTQ+ community.” These songs were written six months ago, but Bassett wasn’t in the right mindset to release them then—now, he says, “I finally found the courage to speak up for myself.” But Bassett also wants the songs to speak for themselves, as he says multiple times, and so he veers towards more abstract explanations.
“Crisis,” which Bassett says is about “all the crazy PR over the year,” references a breakup instigated by the other party (“It’s cool if you want me to play the bad guy/But don’t go acting like I never loved you” and “Weren’t you the one who left in the first place/Weren’t you the one who called things off”) and an ex who seems to twist the truth for publicity (“Messing with my life as a career move/I can’t help but think why you won’t make it end… You sensationalize and keep fanning the fire for the sake of headlines.”) “Secret” is about the discovery of an ex’s lie (“You swore that you only had a crush/Told me that you cut him off”), and includes the lines “When your woe is me stops working/I bet your songs won’t sound the same.”
The boundaries between art and life are inherently blurry. Anyone can relate to “Drivers License” without knowing a hint of real-life events that may or may not have inspired it. The lyrics on Bassett’s new songs can apply to different situations too. However, much as Rodrigo fans pored over “Drivers License” to extract a definitive narrative about Rodrigo and Bassett, it seems likely that these lyrics will be treated by some as autobiographical. Bassett has been posting snippets to his TikTok, and fans in the comments are already eager to know if the songs are in fact a direct response to “Drivers License.”
“I’m glad that it’s taken this long” to release the songs, Bassett says (the proceeds will go to mental health organizations, he adds). The first line of “Crisis” is “My label says to never waste a crisis,” followed later by “You would never waste a crisis,” and he tells me that in the wake of the “Drivers License” “media storm,” his record label wanted to take advantage of the moment. But at the time, “it sort of felt like a losing battle… If I try and defend myself in any way, it just felt impossible.” He says that although he’s tried, “[Rodrigo] hasn’t spoken to me since ‘Drivers License’ came out.” Nevertheless, her songs have been unavoidable: “I would be on my way to sessions and I would hear two songs on the same station in one Uber ride.” At a coffee shop last summer, the staff started playing Rodrigo songs back to back until Bassett left, he says; an employee apologized when he came back a few days later.
As we talk about our past relationships and what you can learn from each of them, he looks out into the distance towards the Catskills. “People don’t realize how long ago that was,” he says, seemingly referring to Rodrigo. “It’s not as recent as it seems. I’m a completely different person now,” he adds. Later, he says “I’m not here to expose people. It was eating me alive, and I couldn’t keep it in anymore.” I ask if he’d be ready to fall in love, if the opportunity presented itself. “No, I’m not at the moment. Ultimately, being in a relationship is a responsibility. I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” he says. “I’ve only had three [relationships], despite what it seems.” He says his dating life now is “non-existent… I think that’s something that’s been good about this last little bit: I’m good on my own. I don’t need somebody else.”
Tucked away, alone in Woodstock, Bassett has dedicated himself to processing it all. He left his West Village apartment and now “live[s] nowhere.” He’s collecting self-help books, which lie thrown around a mattress nestled in a back corner of the estate. When he’s not working on this new body of work, he’s been journaling, crying almost daily (“it’s great”), and in therapy twice a week. He’s open about feeling messy, unpredictable, and nonlinear: “I went to Spain with a couple of friends. There was one night in particular. I finally let go… I scream-cried for three and a half hours to the point where I lost my voice for two weeks,” he says.
That excavation has turned up other, more serious traumas, he suddenly tells me. Midway through our conversation, Basset out of nowhere states that “I experienced sexual abuse a lot in my childhood.” He looks down and tears up as he continues: “I didn’t remember that until last year, which is pretty insane. I buried it so far. And when I was a teen, a much older man routinely abused me, and I wasn’t able to see it for what it was at the time.” “Set Me Free,” the third song released today, is in part about processing this experience, he says—he calls it “an anthem for me and the sort of people who’ve held pain and power over me my whole life.” He continues: “you’ve taken so much from me, but you don’t get to take all of me.” Bassett plans to explore this further on an episode of a podcast series dedicated to “heavy talks” that he says will launch next year—he says he can “hopefully help people who are experiencing that” and that he wants it to be “the podcast that I wish I had when I was a kid.”
If all this sounds like a lot for a 20-year old to take on, Bassett claims he’s now “so much stronger than I was before.” But he’s still wary. “I got a protector screen on my phone so people can’t look at it when I’m at a coffee shop,” he says. “There are certain people who I can’t hang out with in public because they’re too loud,” he says as he lowers his voice and looks around for no one in particular. Later, he adds, “I feel like a lot of this last year people haven’t seen me as a human being.”
The sun is beginning to set, and Bassett suggests we find some semblance of a Thanksgiving dinner. After we eat, Bassett jokes that he will spend the rest of the holiday awake and alone, perfecting the vocals on a new song. Before heading back into the city, I pull into the only gas station I can find open on Thanksgiving in Woodstock. As I get closer to the only open establishment in sight, “Drivers License” greets me inside.
