The Title of Ava Max’s New LP Is a Warning » PopMatters

Ava Max’s third album, Don’t Click Play, is a predictable disco-pop rehash, but comes with an intriguing media narrative

Don’t Click Play Ava Max Atlantic 22 August 2025

In a 2025 interview with Rolling Stone, Ava Max referred to herself as “the most mismanaged pop star ever”. Lately, Max’s presence has been inconsistent. Her third studio album, Don’t Click Play, was released with minimal promotion in the aftermath of a cancelled tour. “I almost lost myself,” Max told Rolling Stone, referring to the fallout of a breakup with a romantic and creative partner, the producer Cirkuit. (Allegedly, Cirkuit started dating Max’s friend and songwriting partner, Madison Love. Max’s 2024 single “Spot a Fake” addresses this drama.)

The recent Rolling Stone interview is titled “Why Ava Max Disappeared”, a weighty title considering that it references a situation where the general public was not waiting with baited breath for an outcome. Max’s 2019 hit “Sweet But Psycho” remains her most popular song to date. However, by turning a pop star’s professional woes into a form of theatre, Rolling Stone reminds readers that pop music, through its elastic nature, bestows a sense of spectacle onto its peripheral elements. 

Since breaking out with “Sweet But Psycho,” Max has released a steady stream of music suited for the club or the radio without reinventing the wheel. “Psycho” peaked at number ten on the Billboard Hot 100, and “Kings and Queens” peaked at 13. Other releases failed to chart, but a consistent output cemented Max as an artist who creates capital-P “Pop” music, whether or not it reaches a large audience.

“I’m obsessed with the pop girls. It’s time to have more of that kind of music,” Max told Rolling Stone in 2019. Her rise coincided with the hip-hop-influenced sound that dominated the charts in the late 2010s, produced by artists such as Drake, DaBaby, and Lil Nas X. Although Taylor Swift‘s 2017 and 2019 releases sold millions of units, their singles did not perform as well. Ava Max filled the void left by Katy Perry and Lady Gaga, two stars who, at the time, either released underwhelming music or pursued other creative endeavors. 

Don’t Click Play continues to fill the niche Max carved out for herself, a niche that masquerades as ubiquity. On the album, heavy synths, thumping basslines, and skittering beats support lyrically thin premises. Pop songs rely on clichés. “Sweet But Psycho” did not introduce a new cultural caricature, but had fun with an existing premise. Don’t Click Play fails to accomplish the same mission, even though it makes for easy listening. Fans invested in a particular sound will find these tracks perfectly serviceable and supportive of Max’s reputation as a reliable creator of dance music. 

There is something to be said for accomplishing a task without innovating. Pop music is rooted in an economic transaction; its consumption is channeled through record labels, streaming services, ticket vendors, and radio stations. However, the genre’s true appeal lies in its ability to rise above its utilitarian nature. Ava Max does not transcend the medium, but the promotional debacle surrounding Don’t Click Play, and the singer’s honesty in addressing it raise an interesting question: Where is the line between a celebrity’s persona and the product they provide? Or, are those two entities one in the same? 

On Don’t Click Play’s title track, Max addresses criticism she receives online, acknowledging those who call her a “[Lady] Gaga imitation” or who say that her work relies too heavily on samples of existing songs. (Max’s 2024 single “Whatever” interpolates the melody of Shakira‘s “Whenever, Wherever.”) Max is brave to acknowledge these valid criticisms. By referencing them so openly, the singer places her work in a broader dialogue. 

When music lacks fresh ideas, creating a meta-narrative in the media can help its performance. The strongest track on Don’t Click Play, the breakup ballad “Know Somebody”, strikes a tone different from Max’s default upbeat mode. A minor chord in the chorus makes it feel less celebratory than most music made for the dance floor. While the most intriguing aspects of Max’s persona may live outside of the music itself, there remains a voice, like the shriek in the background of “Sweet But Psycho”, that sounds like somebody we might know after all.