If you are not prepared for it, fame can be downright deadly. Alanis Morissette knows that better than anyone. Thirty years ago, she released her third studio album, “Jagged Little Pill,” which won five Grammys, including album of the year and best rock album, and went on to sell 33 million copies.
So, Morissette has a complicated relationship with fame. Now, she will be examining that and many other dimensions of her incredible three-decade career in a new Vegas residency at Caesars Palace that begins Wednesday and runs until Nov. 2.
As Morissette explained in a wide-ranging talk with The Times, the Vegas show will be much more than a concert. The show will take on a narrative feel that will showcase her humor, improv, wellness and all the other traits that have defined her over the years.
I love that you paired with Carly Simon on the song “Coming Around Again” because I see such a kinship based on you two over generations. There is so much in common between “You’re So Vain” and “You Oughta Know.” Not the least of which is I am sure you are both beyond over being asked, “Who is the song really about?”
Right, because what people don’t understand, and I can’t speak for Carly, but there’s a difference between revenge and revenge fantasy. I’m all about the revenge fantasy and punching pillows and gyrating and sweating and losing your s— in art. And Lord knows I’m unmeasured in other areas day-to-day, too, so it’s not like I’m some paragon of containment, but yeah, just the revenge thing, there’s a lot of schoolyard stuff going on. That’s all I’ll say for the moment.
Obviously, this is 30 years of “Jagged Little Pill.” I remember seeing Bruce Springsteen in ’88, when he did “Born to Run” acoustic. Every night when he introduced it, he would say, “I was thinking about how much that song was me, and how much I don’t want it to be me.” And I thought that was so interesting because, of course, there are songs you want to be you. So, what songs did you want to be you?
Yeah, there are so many songs that I would write about potential. So, I’d be in a relationship, and I would be writing about what I wanted to the point where whomever I may have been dating at the time, if I shared the song with them, sometimes they would say, “Who’s this about? This can’t possibly be about me.” I’m like, “Well, you know what? You’re onto something there. This is about what I wish we could be.” I think about also a song, because I’m working on the Vegas show, so we’re integrating so much. And I think the song “Not the Doctor” is probably one of the ones that I realized the naivety of having written, like, your issues just get away from me. Having been married now for 15 years, I realized that your partner’s challenges, you take each other on — all of it. So, there’s a little bit of knowledge now that makes “Not the Doctor” funny to sing.
And then “Incomplete” is a song that is a manifestation, as you just described, that I would be good. It’s like a prayer manifestation. There’s a song, “Knees of My Bees,” that I wrote about what I wished. In praise of the vulnerable man, it was what I wished. So yes, there’s some composites being made where I take seven people whom I had a similar pattern repeat, and I just lop them all into one song as one person and unify the communication; there’s no holds barred.
Has there been talk about extending the show? It does sound like you are putting a crazy amount of work into a show that right now lasts little more than a week.
For a long time — and a lot of journalists have said, “Yeah, right,” when I say this — but my energy doesn’t go into outcome. Whether the show is seen three times or 300,000 times, that’s not up to me in this moment. I’m creating stories and sharing parts of myself that I have hidden for the ’90s imperative of staying in your lane or it’s career suicide. So, I’m still unlearning that, which is the reductiveness of the ’90s, where you have to stay one thing. Then, well, what is one supposed to do if they have multiple talents or multiple intelligences dying to be expressed? We’re going to contain that so that we can keep the ’90s credo going. So, over the years, it’s just been, can I bring these other aspects of self into the whole expression of me through academia, through movement, through channeling, through live shows, through interviews right now? There are so many ways to express, and the ’90s really did say, “You do it one or two ways; you step out of that and your career is over.” Thank God that messaging is softened.
How have you seen culture and values change over your career?
It used to be “I want to be a millionaire,” and now everyone wants to be a billionaire. It used to be “I want to look 21 forever,” now it’s “I want to look 14 forever.” And then it used to be “I want to have fame as a means to an end for activism.” Now it’s just “I want fame as an end,” so it’s an interesting value system snapshot right now. And so many of us are flying in the face of it, so I’m not really worried about that. But the value system has gotten smaller almost, as though fame in and of itself is going to correct our attachment wounds. It doesn’t work, and I’m constantly raising my hand going, I thought fame would result in this profound sense of community that I’d be amongst my people and we’d be petting each other’s heads by the fire. That was not the case.
I think for anyone who comes out the other side of fame, there has to be a tremendous sense of gratitude that you survive it.
That’s a big piece of this Vegas show without me nailing it on the head or belaboring the point. It’s like, “How are some of us still here?”
How do you express that in the show? And it is interesting given your passion for wellness and mental health, it is in Vegas. Which has never been known for either.
Yeah, Vegas has been known for addiction and gambling, acting out, sexual acting out. What is Vegas known for? “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” It’s been known for that, but I believe that there’s a whole seismic shift going on. I have never underestimated people who come to my shows. Even in workshops, people are like, “Alanis, it’s too much.” And my thought is, “No, it’s not.” People can close their eyes, they can walk out, they can shut the radio off, they can take a break in the cafeteria. Part of why I love that it’s Vegas is that there’s this ceilinglessness in terms of no holds barred again, like I want to wear a boa. You want to do a backflip. Apparently, we’re doing a backflip. What has happened over the years is that again, it was this one-lane push, stay in your lane. And while this was all happening, there were all these other archetypal imperatives getting at me, like what about dancing? What about comedy? What about article writing? What about keynote speaking? What about workshop leading? What about channeling? There are all these other forms of expression that I live for. So, in some ways, I was cultivating them maybe privately. That’s just who I am. And I integrated it into every lyric.
Sinéad [O’Connor] said this perfectly, I don’t know word for word what she said, but the essence was you love the art, but you hate the artist. She said something about, “I appreciate that my audience wants everyone to hear more angry emotions from me through my songs, but then I have to be angry. And no one takes that into consideration.” I was like, “Yeah, because we’re used in the best way possible.” Artists are used as a screen upon which people identify themselves or people find who they are by hating and loving and trolling and attacking and it’s all projection, everything’s f— projection. So yeah, I just think people who are in the public eye have an experience inside of a social construct that is so violently unusual. And there’s no empathy afforded to them for that, other than maybe from people like you and me.
“There are all these other forms of expression that I live for,” says Alanis Morissette. “So, in some ways, I was cultivating them maybe privately. That’s just who I am. And I integrated it into every lyric.”
(Shervin Lainez)
How did you learn to deal with it? Unfortunately for Sinéad, she never was able to handle the fact that people were so hateful toward her, even though it had nothing to do with her.
I know, and basically that is the lack of handbook that is egregious, because so many people who were in the public eye are now physically gone. So much of it is their temperament, and I used to do talks at the neurobiology conferences at UCLA, and I would bring up the idea of temperament needing to be taken into consideration, whether it’s around suicidality or anything. Most artists are highly sensitive empaths. That is a version of neurodivergence over excitability, high-achieving, profound subtle awareness and attunement. All of these qualities that make the sweetest artists. And yet that temperament in a world that is doing what you just described Sinéad receiving, which is projecting hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. There’s no handbook on how to go, “Hey, we’re going to do shadow work here. We’re going to talk about rejection. We’re going to talk about if anyone’s saying anything that brings something up for you, bring it into therapy. Look at that part. Look at what they’re saying.” Also, always from me, look at the opposite. If you’re being invited to look at the part of you that is an a—. Always also look at the part of you that is deeply, deeply kind. For me, that’s the wholeness journey.
Being older, what have you learned about how to deal with all this?
I really do believe, Steve, that I could write a f— handbook now. I feel like if you and I got together, I could write the handbook, and we just hand it out to all the new celebs.
Do you now feel a responsibility to be able to pass your wisdom on to the new generation like Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo?
I feel great passion about it. I happen to be someone who is hilariously conscientious and intensely empathic. I’m always blown away by them, and then I see people like Olivia and I just think, “Oh, everything’s going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay if Olivia exists; we’re good.” [laughs]
What happened to your book?
What’s interesting is I did two years worth of narrative storytelling that we recorded. Initially it was for a memoir, or some version of what was being asked for was a memoir. That’s kind of a hard “no” for me because we’re using all the pieces that feel relevant to this particular story. The reason I didn’t want to do the memoir is ’cause there’s no way to articulate a life. There’s way to articulate snapshots. There’s a way to articulate chapters, maybe. But there’s no way to articulate, like, this is my sentimental life story. It’s not possible. So that’s why songs are so great. It’s like four minutes of a moment. Let’s just keep writing these moments and capturing these moments and that’s what Vegas is for me: a moment.
One of the things I’ve talked about with artists that they love so much about Vegas residency is you get to mix it up night to night. But it sounds like you’re going to have a show, so are you going to be incorporating different stuff or is it going to be more of a narrative story?
Both. For me as an actor, I’ve always enjoyed improv. I love it when there’s a general sense of structure for something, but then go off within it. This is the way I’ve always been, both sides of the brain. I want some structure and predictability and some version of a set list, which we already have. But then within some of the interstitial stuff and the scenes and the comedy and the physicality and the movement, yeah, it’s a movable feast. We’ll see what happens. I am completely out of my wheelhouse publicly, not privately, because I was in improv teams since I was 14. And I think comedy is one of the best forms of activism art, I really do, maybe even above music. So, we’re integrating all these forms of art. And I’m not thinking about any outcome. It’s really amazing to write a record, write a song, write an email, frankly, with no agenda. The agenda is just “let’s express ourselves.” And that’s plenty.
Do you feel like you’re having more fun now at this point in your career than any other point?
I have the most fun with collaborating. So, I can’t say this is any more fun, but I can say that there’s more people. So, in the past, it’s been me alone writing or me and my bestie writing or me and Glen [Ballard] writing. So, in some ways it was insulated, isolated and with the musical and with Vegas, let’s multiply those collaborators by at least five. What I’ve said a few times, and I still stand by it, is that for me, the happiest place is in this communal “can’t swing a dirty sock without hitting a master” kind of environment, and it is truly six plus six is a thousand for us.
Do you feel like, as you’re getting older, people are embracing you more?
Yeah, I make more sense. There was a period of time where I didn’t make any sense and perhaps there wasn’t that much resonance. And then 25, 30 years later, I feel like I’m starting to make sense to the world in a way that I didn’t expect to happen. I just always thought, “Oh, I’ll be on that smallest part of the bell-shaped curve forever and I’ll probably be kind of lonely there. And that’s just what it is in this lifetime.” But here I am 30 years later and I’m starting to get a sense that what I’ve been talking about this whole time is resonant for people. And I can’t tell you how healing that is for me.
This story originally appeared on LA Times
