Clif Magness was obviously impressed with Avril's songwriting and musical instincts and signed her to his label. They began co-writing songs such as "Losing Grip" and "Unwanted" and craft an album that was split into an unsolicited demo and a full-on studio recording. Unfortunately for Avril, the former would be shelved. Still, Magness believed in Avril. When Arista Records executive Antonio L.A. Reid introduced himself to her, that led to a whole new deal. She would wind up working with the production team The Matrix, who recorded both Let Go: B-Sides and her Let Go album. While Arista did eventually release a few songs from 2002's Let Go as singles, the rest of the songs would never see the light of day and would be completely forgotten by the general public.

Like, after so many years of Avril performing at public events and churches and county fairs, her breakthrough finally came through thanks to Antonio. He took a leap of faith and advocated for Avril at his label.

Focus groups were talking about how she should be the next Nickelback (yes, the most hated rock band in existence), that she should be more like Creed (which meant, of course, that her music would have the same grunge-inspired rhythms and chord progressions, as well as frequent arena rock influences), that she should be like Alanis Morrisette, all the generic butt-rock/post-grunge bands that were popular at the time.

After she was paired with The Matrix, who wanted her to blend pop, rock and grunge sensibilities so that they could help her understand her vision for Let Go, they would write the song "Complicated". The song was engineered to provoke, to go viral on MTV and Radio Disney before viral was even a thing. It worked. The single shot to #2 and cemented Avril Lavigne's arrival as emo pop's newest provocateur.

Butch Walker later took over and helped further shape Lavigne's sound, but neither his signature style or The Matrix's were exclusive to her. Their productions often built around the same "grungy" chord progressions, gated drums, EQ'd guitars, arena rock vibes and call and response hooks. If you take "Complicated" and place it next to "So Yesterday" by Hilary Duff, you're going to hear very similar melodies, tempos and even vocal styles.

Hilary Duff was big at one point in the 2000s, but Avril Lavigne would become the poster child for this sound. These were not coincidences. They were part of a formula designed to replicate success. Avril wasn't just plugged into the machine. She became one of Butch's most effective outputs. The transformation was complete. She was no longer an artist rooted in spirituality like in her childhood or rebellion like she made herself out to be in the first place, but someone who could sell fantasy, angst and spectacle.

It was a complete rebirth, a shredding of Avril's pre-Let Go identity in favor of something new, something shinier, something built for mass appeal and nothing more. This new Avril was not covering Christian songs about salvation, recording lo-fi alternative rock with in-depth subject matter or singing about those wide open spaces. Oh no, she was singing about how much her life sucked ass. "Complicated" was the moment she sold out, plain and simple.

It seemed like the country and contemporary Christian songs she used to cover when she was 14 and under had such raw, powerful and meaningful lyrics. Songs about an individual living life on their own terms, embracing their freedom and the wide open spaces of the world and the heart. Everyone in her native Ontario, Canada was embodying with that. But alas, she shifted to writing angsty, generic pop songs about how some boy wouldn't understand her and how she was all alone. Her music became a vessel for escapism, not reflection. Catchy, controversial, designed to grab attention and keep it.

For years, the Internet has spiraled with conspiracy theories. The Illuminati, hidden agendas, artists trading their souls for fame and fortune. As often as Lavigne would contradict herself and try to dodge criticism in many of her interviews and quotes, she had a tendency to say she literally sold her soul to the fucking devil. Sounds pretty wild and far-fetched, if you ask me, like something out of a rabbit hole. But when you look at Avril Lavigne's rise and her eventual downfall, it checks every box of that blueprint. A radical image shift, a sudden explosion of fame, an all-seeing industry machine pulling strings. Avril Lavigne was all about catchy songs, you see, and she was also the result of a meticulously crafted image and sound engineered. Everything from the bubblegum pop guitars and beats to her over-the-top skater fashion was designed to create an icon. One who was relatable enough to love, but exaggerated enough to idolize.

The formula was simple. Minor chords and fifth notes triggered sadness, anxiety and melancholia. Bright major scales triggered feelings of happiness and excitement. Empty promises of healing delivery. Simple, repetitive lyrics made songs unforgettable after one listen, or so it seemed. Carefully crafted personas kept fans entertained and engaged. This formula worked brilliantly.

Between 2002 and 2007, Avril Lavigne would dominate popular culture with hit after hit. "Girlfriend", in particular, was engineered to be bigger, bolder and more addictive than the rest of her singles. Songs like "Complicated", "Sk8er Boi", "I'm with You", "Don't Tell Me", "My Happy Ending", "Nobody's Home" weren't just hits; they were cultural moments designed to stick in your head and become part of your personal soundtrack. Avril reached her commercial peak in 2004 with "Don't Tell Me" and "My Happy Ending", which some of her fans believed were when the quality of her music began to decline. They were the pinnacle of the Avril machine, two carefully polished products that seemed unstoppable.

But maintaining a manufactured image definitely takes its toll. Over time, audiences evolve and pop culture craves artistically. As the world started shifting towards hip-hop and EDM, as well as rawer music, Avril's hyper-stylized skater persona began to feel... outdated. By 2009, just two years after releasing The Best Damn Thing, the cracks began to show. A majority of radio stations outside of Asia pulled her music and only select radio stations continue to play her to this day.

Many fans felt The Best Damn Thing was more of a jointed and confusing musical shift than Avril's previous output. It was met with mixed reviews and left fans scratching their heads. The once infallible emo pop queen suddenly seemed unsure of her place in the changing world. The girl who was built to be everything to everyone suddenly didn't seem to know who the hell she was anymore. The candy coating had melted, making it clear that Avril was a hypocrite and a poseur who pretended to be punk all along. What was left was something far more complex.

Fast forward to recent years and her pressure to stay relevant has only intensified. In a culture obsessed with reinvention and reintegration, pop stars are now expected to evolve, adapt to and align themselves with the next big thing. You know what I'm talking about–hip-hop, whatever the masses think is "alternative", R&B, folk, EDM and indie rock.

That brings us to "Hello Kitty", one of her most bizarre career moments. Though she did manage to revitalize her public image and align herself with futuristic innovation, Avril made this specific single to pander to her Asian fanbase.

OK, everybody. Do me a favor. Look at everything for what it is. Don't look at Avril–she's a corporation, a marketing machine, an industry product, an attention whore. Don't even pay attention to her. Look at everything else for what it is.

I want you to express your strong critique of Avril and her decline in popularity and musical quality over the years. What I'm saying right now is her transition to a mainstream pop sound around 2007 marked the beginning of the end for her career, with a notable lack of positive attention received in recent years.

I also want you to reflect both this garbage song and "Complicated" the way I've reflected them at least a million times. Like, oh my fucking God, her songs are so generic, repetitive and lacking in real musical value. I need someone like you to express my frustration over her comments and behavior regarding Japan, for "Hello Kitty" is a stereotypical and offensive track. It is considered her worst song by many.

Share your opinions on Lavigne and "Hello Kitty" and make sure to understand my questions on whether the song is racist. Because I know damn well it's a racist song. Together, we can remain firm in our beliefs that Lavigne is not a good musician and that she is a generic corporate rock artist whose sole trait is shallow lyrics.

Viewers saw "Hello Kitty" as generic, unimaginative, racist, xenophobic, disposable, manufactured, EDM-inspired J-pop, a project with awkward lyrics and beats. The artist once built to be bulletproof in terms of commercial success now seems... human, vulnerable, searching.

The music industry has always built its stars. Motown to modern pop, constructing a marketable persona is nothing new, but rarely do we get such a clear view of the machinery in action. Avril Lavigne wasn't just an artist; she was a brand, a franchise, a product built with precision. If you listen to her 2001 unsolicited demo Let Go: B-Sides, it sounds unique and alternative. At one time, one would think it would only see success in the underground scenes. I can't help but think if she came out with this style today, she would still be able to capture that same mass appeal.

Pop music is much more eclectic today than it was in 2002. Even the worst of pop music has all the authentic (or inauthentic) quirkiness that Avril's music never fucking had.

Just... oh my God, it all sounds cartoonish and outdated. No matter how shitty pop music was back then or is now, at least pop singers today don't sing about how much they're crazy psychotic clowns over clownish, swung backbeats, clownish lyrics that aren't even close to funny, clownish vocals or clownish guitar riffs.

Lavigne's vocal style is also dated as all hell. That's the only thing more outdated than her fucking music. I remember when pop singers from the '90s to the early 2010s used to sound like they were trying out for the role of the lead bratty pre-teen in some awful kids' sitcom or cartoon. Avril is no exception. She screeches and whines her way through every track, going so far as to butcher the English language with her Atlantic Canadian accent and bizarre vowel pronunciation, making my ears bleed. God, how I miss the days of when Canadians like Geddy Lee of Rush used to sing normally. The guys back in the 2000s weren't much better either, with their affected, trying-too-hard-to-be-edgy voices. They were always competing to see who could sound the most constipated.

Lavigne is the reason why most popular music no longer has any semblance of edge and danger. Pop music has always been terrible, but at least it never used to be THIS sanitized, overproduced and formulaic. We also had punk and alternative bands that weren't afraid to push boundaries and challenge the status quo. I feel so sorry for kids growing up in this musical wasteland. Avril has all but deprived them of real art and expression.

I guess that's why Avril Lavigne isn't meant to be taken seriously as a musician. Not now, not ever. Her songs are more like the soundtrack to some bad teen comedy or background noise for a commercial hawking sugary cereal. The production values are so cheesy and dated, it's like something out of a bad '90s time capsule. Hell, even in 2002, they were cheesy and dated by default. That makes me wonder if Let Go and Under My Skin were supposed to be Journey or Boston albums. Probably not.

And the lyrics... oh God, the lyrics. They're so vapid and nonsensical. Lavigne's songwriters simply threw a bunch of buzzwords and meaningless platitudes into a hat, then pulled them out and strung them together into something masquerading as thoughtful. You already know the extent of the lyrical content. It's nothing profound or poetic, just a bunch of empty clichés.

Sometimes, I worry that I'm just getting old and out of touch. That I've lost my sense of fun and my ability to enjoy something silly and lighthearted. But I know that's not true. I bet I'd still love me a not so bubblegummy synth-pop record. Give me some catchy synth hooks and experimental keyboardists any day. I just wish Avril Lavigne would have more substance and depth to back up her sugary sweetness. Guess what? She hasn't for over 22 years.

You all need to stop telling me to just "get over it" and that I'm being too harsh. The truth is, I'm sick of settling for mediocrity. I'm sick of music that doesn't challenge me, provoke me, make me think or feel something. Avril Lavigne and pretty much all 2000s corporate pop artists are a waste of time and space. She's not going to be remembered as any kind of artistic legacy. She's just a footnote in the history of music, a regrettable aberration.

All in all, everyone went from refusing to see Avril as an early 2000s, cash-grab pop trend and proudly defending her to just... seeing her as such. They finally saw that they fell for it in the first place when they never should've done so. Her transformation from a young Christian girl covering country and contemporary Christian songs as well as practicing hymns to a hyper-stylized pop-disguised-as-punk machine reflects a larger pattern. It's not just about her story, it's about how the music industry co-opts genres such as metal, rock, punk and alternative and ruins them by making them as corporate as possible. And well, they package and discard as stars too. Her evolution is a case study in how image often overtakes identity and how carefully crafted personas can become cages for artists living inside them. Avril Ramona (1984-2001), who started performing at small venues and churches as young as two years old and would record a kick-ass unsolicited mixtape, was a girl with a message. Avril Lavigne (2002-present), on the other hand, is more or less a brand with a mandate. The space between those two identities is where the truth fucking lies. It's where the tension between art and commerce plays out in real time. Maybe that's why us furries are still reading, because we're not just watching a popstar rise and fall. We're watching an industry expose itself. We're watching what happens when fantasy collides with fatigue. When the algorithm runs out of fuel and when your raided clothes from Hot Topic begin to fade. Maybe Avril Lavigne doesn't exist. Maybe she never did. Maybe she was the projection of what the music industry wanted at a very specific moment in pop history rather than what either pop or rock audiences wanted–a larger than life character perfectly engineered for maximum impact. But Avril Ramona, she is real. The voice behind the noise. She's the dream behind the machine. The girl with a guitar, a dream and a message that didn't need to be vague and "like, totally edgy and punk rock" to shine

Maybe, just maybe, if the industry noise quiets down, we'll hear Ramona again instead of Lavigne the manufactured musical fraud. Yes, people, Avril Ramona. She was barely a product, but rather a person, even if the music she liked and/or performed all over Canada was a product.

The good news is that music, for better or worse, has long evolved past this and there have been countless attempts for musicians to get it back to its roots–raw human emotion, talent and something to say.

This is a roundabout way of saying, fuck you, Lavigne. Forever. And fuck anyone who unironically likes you or admits they grew up an Avril Lavigne fan.