Halsey (born Ashley Nicolette Frangipane in 1994) was frustrated when critics mistook their defining single, “New Americana”, from 2015 debut BADLANDS, as an aspirational anthem rather than the satire of American pop culture they intended. But this LA-by-way-of-New Jersey songwriter has always mingled cynicism with awe: You don’t post a parody of Taylor Swift’s “I Knew You Were Trouble” to YouTube if you don’t crave that glamour a little bit. And whatever the intention, Halsey’s forays into early vlogger culture made them a star without sacrificing the circumspect side they learned as a young artist living on New York City’s streets. In the wake of Lorde and Lana Del Rey, they helped shift the outcasts and rebels towards pop’s centre. Even as they’ve progressed to Billboard highs and Grammy nods, Halsey continues to straddle that uneasy divide. One minute, they’re working with lotharios like The Weeknd and The Chainsmokers; the next, rewriting Romeo and Juliet as a bisexual epic on their second album, 2017’s hopeless fountain kingdom, and using their platform to elevate the issues that touched them as a younger person. Call it coming full circle: Halsey’s created a new American standard for a generation of fans who see themselves in their image.