By Jonathan Sackett

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:: Declan uses his investigative prowess the unveil sonic pollution.  

:: September 14, 2026

:: After I decided to write a blog about Stella Lefty, I came to the devastating realization that I would actually have to listen to her music. As she croaked out the line “I like it when you’re nice to me” in her forced country twang, a shudder went through my body. Stella Lefty’s “Boston” was possibly the worst thing I had ever heard. 

The song, which has nearly 200 million streams on Spotify, has been blasted online for its chord-for-chord copy of the chorus of “Stick Season” by Noah Kahan. Kahan was hastily given songwriting credits once the similarity was pointed out. 

When asked about the similarities between “Boston” and “Stick Season,” Stella Lefty’s unintentionally hilarious response perfectly defines her music: “When I was writing the song, I wasn’t thinking about Noah Kahan. I was literally thinking about nothing at all.”

But the blatant rip-off isn’t even the most offensive thing about “Boston.” Its soulless, nonsensical lyrics and cringeworthy vocals are an insult to music itself. 

Which makes me wonder: How does this even happen? Who is actually listening to this? How did it get this bad? 

It’s not like mainstream pop is a stranger to banality and shallow lyrics. Even “accidental” song stealing is pretty commonplace (Sam Smith’s “Stay With Me” and Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” come to mind). But when you list the facts about Stella Lefty, it becomes clear that she’s worse than anything we’ve seen before. 

1. Listeners have now identified five different Stella Lefty songs that have striking similarities to previous pop hits, earning her the moniker “Stella Thefty.” “Misery,” a nearly exact remake of “A Million Dreams” from The Greatest Showman, is an egregious example.
2. Stella Lefty is from the Chicago suburbs, but she puts on an artificial country accent. It’s a very misguided attempt to fit into the pop-country-folk wave that’s dominating the airwaves right now. 
3. The lyrics are irredeemably bad. Listening to “I Know I Know” from her brand-new album, I couldn’t help but think of the AI-generated Luke Bryan lyrics that are always just a list (“Fish, Hunt, Golf, Drink”). Here’s the chorus: “One glass of wine and you’re on my mind/One sip of gin and I’m right back in/One shot of tequila and I really wanna feel ya.” 

Stella Lefty is the perfect embodiment of the term “industry plant.” Her father, Eric Lefkofsky, co-founded Groupon and is the CEO of an AI company. His net worth is estimated to be around $5 billion. From being relatively unheard of about six months ago, she now has 17 million monthly listeners on Spotify and is about to embark on a 50-stop tour, without displaying any level of talent or originality. 

Ultimately, I can’t blame Lefkofsky for taking advantage of her connections, and I can’t act like the majority of mainstream musical acts don’t reach success at least partially through nepotism and networking. Clairo and Lana Del Rey both benefited from the extreme wealth of their parents; but still, they’re extremely talented and have pushed music in a positive direction. Artists like Stella Lefty hold music back by chasing virality with empty songs. 

It’s hard not to look at the TikTokification of music as a root cause of Stella Lefty’s sudden appearance. More and more, audiences are looking for music with the potential for virality: It sounds somewhat pleasant, it’s trendy, and it has a catchy hook that can fit in a 15-second video. I can’t act like her songs haven’t been stuck in my head all day, even if I didn’t want them to be. 

While this whole ordeal is obviously a reflection on Lefkofsky as an artist, I’m hoping that it will force listeners to take a look in the mirror. We need to stop allowing artists whose music is vague and inoffensive but lacks substance, energy, and joy to have a platform. There will always be terrible music. But I dream of a world where the terrible music is a reflection of the artist’s own experience, or at least passably original. I dream of a world without “Boston.” 

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