Most babies enter the world wailing, resenting the rude ejection from their mother’s warm womb and covered in more than gunk and grime. However, a select few infants arrive dripping in privilege. Such lucky souls — the children of actors, directors and entrepreneurs alike — grow up under the shiny label, “nepo baby.”
Although nepotism, defined as favoritism based on family relationships, is not industry specific, it runs rampant in the entertainment world. Major players in the creative sphere pass down their charisma and connections to their relatives, ranging from Dakota Johnson to Matty Healy.
With Thanksgiving just around the corner, it is a fitting time to recognize these star-studded families — not to reduce their accomplishments, but to give credit where credit is due. Although it is easy to resent the success of celebrity children, it is often as easy to recognize their talent. As such, here are my favorite tracks from my favorite “nepo babies.”
‘Camden’ by Gracie Abrams (2021)
As the daughter of “Star Trek” (2009) director J.J. Abrams and actress Katie McGrath, derogatory declarations of nepotism follow singer Gracie Abrams like a persistent phantom. A year after her stunning extended play “This Is What It Feels Like” (2021), New York Magazine dubbed Abrams a “nepo baby” on the rise, capturing the bubbling tension of Abrams’s soon-to-be meteoric rise. While Abrams’s family connections opened the door to success, her songwriting abilities blew the hinges off.
Abrams evidences this talent on “Camden,” a delicate mining of the depths of depression. “I never said it, but I know that I / Can’t picture anything past twenty-five,” Abrams begins atop a quiet piano. The track unravels across prolonged verses that shake under the weight of desperation and rumination, building toward a cathartic conclusion, only to descend into a simple, defeated chorus. Abrams moves from self-diagnosing mental illness to self-isolation as she attempts to escape the quicksand of her early twenties. This struggle culminates in the bridge, in which Abrams repeats “All of me, a wound to close / But I leave the whole thing open / I just wanted you to know / I was never good at coping.”
Throughout the bridge, dissonant harmonies emphasize her fragility as the soft piano barrels forward and she lands softly upon the solemn final chorus. Although Abrams did not experience a commercial breakthrough until last year with “That’s So True” (2024), the striking lyricism on “Camden” proves she worked for it.
‘Dallas Major’ by Lily Allen
On an episode of her “Miss Me?” (2024-) podcast, actress and Britpop singer Lily Allen admitted “there’s an element of truth” to her classification as a “nepo baby.” However, the daughter of British actor Keith Allen also argued that the term is “basically used for women who are taking up space.” Following the release of her visceral fifth studio album “West End Girl” this October, she is certainly taking up space in the pop culture consciousness.
The album details the dissolution of her marriage to “Stranger Things” (2016-2025) actor David Harbour. Much like rubbernecking a rear-end collision on the side of I-85, it is almost impossible to look away from Allen’s tantalizing revelations. But among the 14 tracks of brutal honesty, one stands out as particularly discomfiting and brilliant: “Dallas Major.” Allen combines painful lyrics with playful production to place the listener in her shoes, navigating the ominous world of online dating as her husband goes astray. Operating under the pseudonym Dallas Major, Allen sings, “I’m almost nearly forty, I’m just shy of five-foot-two / I’m a mum to teenage children, does that sound like fun to you?” While the exact premise may not be relatable, “Dallas Major” speaks with cunning wit to a universal feeling: having to move forward without moving on.
‘The Climb’ by Miley Cyrus (2009)
In terms of “nepo baby” business, Miley Cyrus presents an interesting case. Although she began her career with the semi-autobiographical Disney Channel series “Hannah Montana” (2006-2011) as the young protégé of her musician father, she has since surpassed Billy Ray Cyrus in widespread popularity. However far Cyrus may stray from her roots, I remain irrevocably attached to the soundtrack of this early era — the perfect blend of fact and fiction, wisdom and naivety, country and pop.
No other song stops me in my tracks quite like “The Climb.” After almost 16 years, the singer’s youthful voice continues to shine, demonstrating her undeniable talent. “I can almost see it / That dream I’m dreaming, but,” Cyrus begins in a hushed tone. She tugs on the syllables of “see” and “dreaming” like she is grasping at something just out of reach. Cyrus defines this struggle in the chorus: “There’s always gonna be another mountain / I’m always gonna wanna make it move / Always gonna be an uphill battle / Sometimes I’m gonna have to lose.” As the instrumental remains subdued, Cyrus enlivens the chorus with her powerful vocals.
While not exactly presenting a novel insight, I often find myself much more compelled to take advice in song form. No matter how many inspirational quotes I read on Pinterest, it is Cyrus that makes me wonder if maybe it really is “The Climb.”
‘Sex and the city’ by Audrey Hobert
Like Cyrus, pop artist Audrey Hobert has a complicated relationship with nepotism. While her father, Tim Hobert, produced and wrote for shows including “Scrubs” (2001-2010) and “Spin City” (1996-2002), the primary criticism derives from her close friendship with Abrams.
Regardless of Hobert’s preferred company, the singer-songwriter carved out a new niche for herself this summer with her brilliantly bizarre debut album “Who’s the Clown?” Standing out among 12 candid and comedic tracks, “Sex and the city” delivers a sharply self-aware depiction of modern dating. From divulging personal secrets for uninterested Uber drivers to craving male validation against her better judgment, Hobert spares no details or anxieties. “What’s it like to be admired? / Hot and desired?” Hobert ponders.
Hobert revels in relatable lyrics, combining diaristic storytelling with a light melody to sketch a familiar picture of young adulthood. Yet despite her penchant for recognizable scenes, one line falls a bit flat for me: “This isn’t Sex and the City / Nobody sees me and knows of my column.” I mean, everyone sees me and knows of my column…right?
Catherine Goodman (26C) is the Managing Editor of Arts & Life and Editorial Board. She is a double major in English and Art History. She plans to pursue arts and culture journalism, with a special interest in criticism and feature writing. When she isn't listening to music or writing her column, you can find her baking specialty cakes or playing with her dog, Apollo.
