Alessia Cara on her Fourth Album, Dichotomies, and the Ebbs and Flows of her Artistry

Few and far between is it that we are able to observe an artist who experiences an overnight surge of success, and is able to maintain their ability to stay level-headed, preserve their rationality, and after ten years, still be able to navigate the industry with wisdom, balance, and discernment. Grammy-winning Canadian artist Alessia Cara finally processes her meteoric rise in the music industry with her fourth full length album, Love and Hyperbole, released today, February 14th.

Ahead of the release of her fourth album, Alessia Cara caught up with New Wave Magazine in the leadup to the Valentine's Day release. Lush and free flowing, Love and Hyperbole is decorated with soft cadence, Cara’s vocals embracing live instrumentation and exuberant arrangements inspired by her love of timeless rock and pop from the 60's and ’70s. Across 14 enthralling tracks, Cara shows us her hyperbole through a lens that simultaneously examines a career that has blossomed despite the overt glare of an ever changing industry, and a life no different to ours, which has repeatedly questioned and dealt with unanswerable dichotomies that come with being a human. Gently guiding us through the beautifully strange thrill that it is to find happiness, Cara invites us into her fourth record with the same diary-like candour that has for so long recounted the ebbs and flows of her own life.

Since 2015, when the Grammy-winner’s notable debut single, 'Here', peaked at No. 5 on the Billboard Hot 100, she has generated billions of streams, five JUNO awards, and earned dozens of multi-platinum certifications around the world, and making history as the "first Canadian" to win ‘Best New Artist’ at the GRAMMY Awards - and yet has remained the same balanced and sensitive individual who entered the industry almost ten years ago.  

Encapsulating the last three years of her life and serving as a major turning point in solidifying her identity as an artist, Love and Hyperbole sees the Canadian singer songwriter release inhibitions and take a leap to greater level of confidence in her artistry. Incisive and introspective as ever, and now fully in tune with herself, Alessia Cara's vision remains unscathed. After gracing the length of an industry run that most would be fortunate to experience, and yet still somewhat at the start of an auspicious career, Alessia Cara has surpassed what it means to ascend to prominence, and her fourth full-length offering proves her voice and artistic narration as one that is as necessary now for the world to hear as it was ten years ago.

Four projects in, and almost 4 years removed from In The Meantime, your albums have seen you grow into such an eloquent artist. You've said that other projects felt like a step, and Love and Hyperbole was a leap -  what was that leap that was so different from the steps that you had previously taken before? 

I would say a few different things made me feel that way. First of all, the growth that I’ve experienced on a  personal level between writing the last album to this one has been very notable, and that in itself feels like a leap. Another leap I’ve taken has been in terms of the subject matter I dealt with on this album, and my approach to the songwriting this time around.  I think sonically too, it feels like a much more cohesive and sophisticated project. I can’t pinpoint exactly what makes it all feel like a proper leap - I think it’s a combination of everything -  from the process, the sonics, and the way that I pushed myself vocally - an accumulation of things made Love and Hyperbole feel like a significant leap for me. 

Was creating Love and Hyperbole more exciting than previous albums because it was such a leap?

I would say so, mainly because I was coming off an album that I had to make in isolation in the pandemic. I did a lot of that last album from home, without really having the chance to explore too much or meet new people. It was very remote, so coming from that and waiting a few years and being able to start the album making process again when the world opened back up, there was a new excitement because I had fresh experiences to bring into the music, and a fresh drive to try new things .  Had it not been for that period of isolation before, maybe I wouldn't have been so adamant about exploring a little bit more. I was adamant this time to explore and try new things and travel to different people and places. It did feel  more exciting when the pandemic pressure and pressure in general was taken off, I was just happy to try new things, and it became a much more exciting and colourful process.

The title of this album came from you seeing this repeated hyperbole in your lyrics. As an artist who writes most of their material, do you think as a creative you have to subconsciously exaggerate everyday life to make art ?

Not necessarily, because I think that you can make art out of anything, and I think that the real stuff lies in the mundane. I felt a lot of emotions in my life while writing this project. The hyperbole itself came from me exaggerating how I felt in my life - everything felt like either the end of the world or like the only thing that mattered. 

I used a little bit of humor too, which also made it feel a little hyperbolic. In the song ‘Run Run’, for instance, I’m basically telling this person to run away from me before I ruin their life.  Obviously, I don't want them to do that,  but I used  humor to describe my fears of sabotaging opportunities like that. In that sense, there's a lot of hyperbole, but in general, I don’t feel the need to stretch or exaggerate emotions in order to write music, because you can write music from anything. My first single that I released, ‘Here’, is a great example of that, and it was a good lesson for me as a new songwriter in that I learnt that  you can literally take anything and write about it, and even if it feels boring to you, it will strike the right chord for someone else, and be a reality for them.

This album sounds lush, free flowing, and you recorded a lot of the songs live - take me through how that process was different to previous records? 

It was definitely a different process of recording compared to anything I've ever done before. The pandemic album In the Meantime was obviously very remote, so we didn't have the chance to do a lot of live instrumentation. It involved a lot of programming and a lot of going back and forth. My album prior to that, The Pains of Growing, was very pop heavy, so there were a lot of contemporary sounds involved, and not much being recorded live.This was the first time that I actually had the chance to not only be in the room with so many amazing creative musicians,  but also get to write songs with everybody in the room, feed off of a the sound of a guitar, or a drum, and leave the original sounds that we wrote with in the recording.

This album felt a lot like the music I love from the 60s, and 70s - and even the 90s.  It sounds like a bunch of people in a room, and that was the reality a lot of the time. That type of energy is so nice to feed off of as an artist - I think end results are always going to be a little bit different when you have that energy surrounding you while creating. I believe everything you make is a reflection of your surroundings, even if it’s subconsciously. It really feels like a bunch of people jamming, which is what I wanted it to feel like. 

There are sonically upbeat moments on this record, like ‘Run’, and more mellow and raw moments like ‘Subside’, and ‘Drive’.

The album ebbs and flows, and we hear your vocal range and agility. Is it an intense process to include both of these feelings on the same body of work? 

Yes, and no. For me personally, it’s  been really helpful.  The way I process my own feelings and overwhelming thoughts is to get them out, and so making music from writing about those feelings felt a little less like pressure and more just like a catharsis in a way. The actual writing process is beneficial for me emotionally,  because I analyse myself and my feelings in a way that I don’t always know how to do in regular life when I’m not writing.When you open yourself up to that degree, especially like I did on some of the more emotional tracks like ‘Subside’ or ‘Drive’, things are scary when you remember people will hear what you’ve created, but not so much when you’re just getting those feelings and ideas out in the creation process

As February 14th approaches, I think about what the aftermath of the album release will be like, and things do become a little scary, because after this album is out, it kind of belongs to other people. It’s weird and strange to cut myself open a little bit in that way, even though I’m used to it. 

You really paired the production well with the lyrics on this project. Does writing always comes before the pairing of melodies to the words and then production? 

It's different every time. Sometimes, I'll have a lyric or two, or a thought that I’ll jot down with the intention of finding somewhere for it to fit later. 

With this album, for the most part it was melody first. I’d often say something in gibberish that sounds like a word, and it usually feels  like that word is just supposed to be there.

It often happens that way because it can be a little harder to try to fit words into a melody rather than observing what melody fits best for the music. 

Then it’s about finding exactly what that melody evokes, and that's usually when a concept comes to mind. For the most part, that's what I do, but there are other times where I’ll have a few lyrics written and then try to figure out where they can fit on an instrumental or a song -  it's slightly different every time. 

You were a shy writer for a while. How did changing your approach to writing alone and bringing it to your collaborators afterwards to feeling unashamed to work things out in a live recording setting change the process of making this record for you? 

It made it a lot more fun to be honest, but I think it also really helped the creativity aspect of things because as a writer, or an artist in general, you’re so self critical. Sometimes I find that we pass up on really good ideas we’ve come up with simply because we’re overly critical of them, and we put them on the backburner, or let them pass by the wayside.I’ve seen it myself - there are times  I’ve worked with a  producer, and pushed myself to hum a melody or say something that I feel might be stupid, and they’ll catch it, and tell me that what I just sang or said under my breath is actually interesting, and we decide to explore that phrase, word, or melody.

If we stay in our own self-critical bubble I fear that we might let a lot of great ideas go without realising, so it’s been really helpful for me to have other people that I trust who will stop and say, ‘Wait that's good, don't let that go,’ or, ‘Let's get back to that, let's go back there,’ or ‘What did you just do, let's keep exploring that,’ so, that’s made things less intense in the sense that I’m no longer scared that I’m wasting someones time if im not writing something incredible on day one, or if I don't come to the studio with an idea that's fully fleshed out.

I had that insecurity in the back of my mind for a very long time, especially if I knew I was going to be working with a new producer. I felt that I had to prove myself and to them that I am a good writer, that I do write on my own,  and that this is real, and above all, I never wanted to waste anyone's time.  

I had to rid myself of that because it really sabotages the process when you’ve already started out with the intention of ‘I have to’. Approaching it with ‘let me just try’, really changed everything, and made it a lot more fun. 

You worked with John Mayer on ‘Obvious’, and producers Mike Elizondo, Greg Kurstin and Yakob across this record. You also co-wrote with Elizondo.

How do you make an album that's completely yours, but also manage to collaborate successfully? 

Of course things clash sometimes. It’s a line that you learn how to walk as an artist. 

I  know when I’m going in that it's my project, and  ultimately what I feel is best, but I also feel like it is important to listen to other people whose tastes you trust. I’ve had little qualms and like mini healthy debates about little minor details with some producers. Mike Elizondo for example, is very adamant with what he likes, and so is John Levine.They’re good examples of people I’ve worked with who I also trust, and I appreciate them for voicing their opinions. I think it’s good and healthy, and I like being challenged in that way.

Ultimately, the music is for the listeners as well, so if somebody who is on the outside has an opinion about something, I won’t lose anything by listening and paying attention, and  if it doesn't feel right for me I won’t do it, and that’s okay .There are times when the people I work with suggest something that I might’ve be adamant about not doing, then I try what they’re thinking and actually prefer it, so it is important to not be too too precious but also understand yourself and follow your own intuition as well. 

If something  compromises my integrity or if it's really bothering me I will always just choose what I want to do - I don't want to live the rest of my life hating one detail because I  was forced to do it, but everybody I’ve worked with also is wonderful and has never forced me into anything. They're also creative themselves, with opinions and tastes, and  even when things clash I think it's a beneficial and helpful clash, and more often than not, things turn out better when they share their creative opinions. 

Some artists limit what they listen to when they're in album making mode, but you described the music making process for this album as ‘playing with a whole new canvas where the colours were made up of all the elements you love most in your favourite music’. How did you let these influences drip in, while still making original music that also reflect your sonical taste?

I would say you have to find a mix. Sometimes influence is literally just where a reverb is placed, the sound of the piano on a song, or an element  of a kick drum incorporated in a cool way. It’s not about taking an entire concept or an entire sonic palette of one piece of music, it's about finding little tiny elements that you like to create your own art.

Also, if you’re someone who writes from personal experience and emotes a lot when you’re writing,  you also naturally implement your own personal touches too, and it automatically becomes original. I always try to steer away from something that reminds me of one thing, and I prefer when one tiny detail on a song or project reminds me of another,  and another part of the track reminds me of something different. I love when the music feels like a big melting pot. I think you can be  indirectly inspired too . As an artist you become your environment, and like sponges, we take things to heart subconsciously and emote them simply because that’s what we’re absorbing. I'm very aware of making sure that the music feels original and feels like me, but I’ve always loved listening to a bunch of music, even during the album creation process, because I think there's inspiration in everything. 

I want to dive into one specific track - ‘Subside’. You beautifully write about how nothing good ever lasts and how ‘we don’t get the same day twice’. This reflects the way in which an artist can reach the heights of their career but still have to move on keep creating. Knowing that you can’t live the same day twice, how has that affected your creation process, now releasing your fourth album ? 

That song is a very personal one for me. I was writing about my personal life, nostalgia and my fear of death and impermanence - but also a little bit about the ebbs and flows of what I've gone through in my career.

‘Same day twice’ acts as a microcosm of the concept of reaching the same point twice, and how that simply can’t happen in exactly the same way. This industry is ever-changing, and the goalpost on what success means or what your goals could be constantly changing.  It’s weird, that instead of being encouraged to look forward, this industry can sometimes  make you feel like you always have to be looking backwards and comparing your current self to your younger self, especially after a level of success.  I say it’s strange,  because usually, you compare yourself to who you hope you’ll be  in the future, and you measure yourself up against those future goals that you have. 

When you’ve had some level of success early on, certain projections made by other people or even yourself, can cause you to slip into the habit of comparing your current self to who you used to be, which is ironic because that person is supposed to be less evolved and less wise. Although I still have goals for myself, because it's important to have drive and ambition at all times and to never feel like you've done it all, I think having those struggles early on has allowed me to be a little more free in my process today, and given me more leverage to speak my mind and do what I want artistically, because there's less pressure at this point.

I understand success now as having the chance to continue doing this after ten years, and having the freedom to create and have great people around me that allow me to do so, and whatever happens, happens. I just feel like having that expectation going into creation is always going to sabotage the work and take the innocence away of why I started this in the first place.  

You started the album with ‘Outside’, which is about leaving isolation and opening yourself up to connection We go on that journey with you over these 14 tracks, and end with ‘Clearly’, which describes forgiveness as something that can remove our burdens. 

These two songs describe so much we go through in life where we open up and end with having to forgive.  

How would you describe the process of giving each song the right place in between these moments? 

I wrote almost 50 songs for this album over the course of three years. There were a lot of emotions that I was figuring out, and a lot of pictures that I wanted to paint from what I was going through, and these fourteen songs felt like the best picture to represent the process. 

I tried to lay them out as chronologically as possible to tell that story. I think it was important for me to pay attention to the  sonicalt bed that lay underneath these songs  and how they emoted those  feelings.

For example, on ‘Outside’,  I wanted it to feel very tense sonically, melodically and rhythmically -  it has short melodies, short little rimshots and barely any reverb, which makes it sound very dry and constrained. After ‘Outside’, I wanted this album to sonically open up more and more, and as we get to the end of the project we have songs like ‘Fire’, ‘Slow Motion’, and ‘Clearly’, that exist within more space and sound more free. I chose these songs and placed them where I did mainly so that the sonics could tell a chronological story, but also lyrically, it was that exact process, and because I was writing in real time, with the exception of ‘Dead Man’ which I wrote retrospectively, I  tried to place the songs in the order in they were written and in a way where they can tell the story that is Love and Hyperbole  as honestly as possible. 

I know that Love and Hyperbole is broken into 3 parts - talk to me about each of these three parts and how they each contribute to make up the story of this album. 

I’ve gone through a lot in the last three years, and so I’m realising now that the three parts encapsulate each of those years. 

The first part represents an element of tension and feeling closed off, stuck and stagnant. There's a little middle section where there's a pivot, and it feels like the album is turning on its head a little bit, with songs like ‘Obvious’. That song is the turning point of that coin where I’m presented with a new feeling and opportunity to open up and not repeat patterns, at the same time  as juggling this dichotomy, with the dissonance of, ‘Do I continue to repeat this pattern, and self sabotage?’ or, ‘Do I look forward and try to use this and harness what I’ve learnt with all the bad, and try to turn it into something good?’ 

Here, I understand that I’ll only be as scared as I allow myself to be, and I’ll only see the bad if I continue looking for it. For those reasons, ‘Obvious’  is very pivotal for the journey of the album, and that's why I put that song out as the second single. After ‘Obvious’, we go into the third portion of the album - ‘Garden Interlude’, for example, is about finally seeing that I'm falling in love, and allowing that feeling to be nurtured. 

Every song after that is about jumping headfirst and trying to release as many inhibitions as possible, and turning a page to begin a new chapter. Those are three parts of Love and Hyperbole - I tried to chronologically paint that story as best as I possibly could, and hopefully the album comes across that way. 

Love and Hyperbole is out now on all streaming platforms - take a listen below :