Minneapolis lost a musical gem on May 1, 2025, when Jill Sobule, the singer-songwriter behind the sharp-witted 1995 hit "Supermodel" from the Clueless soundtrack, died in a house fire at her home. She was 66. The blaze, which tore through her residence in the early morning hours, left authorities scrambling to piece together its cause, though no official report has yet been released.
Sobule carved her name in the '90s pop culture lexicon with "Supermodel," a sly, catchy takedown of shallow fame that perfectly matched the vibe of Clueless, the era-defining teen flick. The song, with its jangly guitars and her deadpan delivery, captured the absurdity of chasing glossy ideals. She followed it with another bold move, releasing "I Kissed a Girl" in 1995—a groundbreaking track about queer love that hit the airwaves long before Katy Perry’s song of the same name. It was a statement, raw and unapologetic, that cemented her as an artist unafraid to push boundaries.
Born in Denver in 1959, Sobule kicked off her career in the '80s, bouncing between labels and building a cult following with her folk-pop sound and incisive lyrics. Her self-titled 1995 album, which included both "Supermodel" and "I Kissed a Girl," marked her commercial peak, though she never chased chart-topping formulas. Instead, she leaned into her craft, releasing a string of albums through the 2000s and 2010s that won over fans with their wit and intimacy. Her last record, Nostalgia Kills, dropped in 2018, a bittersweet nod to memory and time.
The fire’s aftermath left Minneapolis firefighters combing through debris, with investigators from the city’s fire department still working to determine what sparked the tragedy. No other injuries were reported, and details about the property damage remain sparse. Sobule had been active until the end, posting about a recent tour stop and back pain just days before the fire, according to those close to her circle.
Her death sent ripples through the music world. Colleagues remembered her as a fiercely independent artist, someone who’d rather write from the gut than churn out safe hits. She leaves behind a legacy of songs that cut through the noise—tunes that were equal parts heart, humor, and defiance.
Sobule is survived by her wife, Ann Marie Fleming, and a tight-knit community of fans and fellow musicians. No memorial plans have been announced. The investigation into the fire’s cause continues.