Heather Nova: A Modern Day Siren

by Chris Hayes

Heather Nova seems to be one of the lucky ones who has it all. Her childhood seems like a dream come true, splitting time living in Bermuda and traveling on a sailboat. She was probably adored by the guys due to her combination of natural beauty and creative intellect. She went to college in Rhode Island and then moved to London to take a stab at music. And it worked, as she was discovered playing a gig in London. Her first album in the states, Oyster (1995) received critical acclaim and established a fan base. Her latest effort, Siren, released this summer on WORK/Sony, is getting the same with two singles already released. She has the talent to perform a live set to perfection, with power and energy, yet create an album that is beautifully seductive in its subtleties. Yeah, she is damned lucky.

I had the opportunity to sit down with Heather before her show at the Seventh House earlier in October. After talking with her, I realized that luck is not involved. Her drive for artistic expression and doing what her soul tells her to do is what opened the doors for her. Not luck. Here is what she had to say.

MR: Where were you playing last night?

Heather Nova: I was in Cincinnati.

When did you start the U. S. leg of your tour?

We did the month of July doing a week on Lilith Fair and then a few weeks of our own dates. After that I was back in Europe doing more festivals. I started touring in Europe back in March.

Was Sirens released in Europe before it was in the States?

Yeah. That’s where I have done most of my touring. Sirens is actually my fifth album. I have built up a fan base over there really by touring and playing festivals a lot. For my last record, Oyster, I only was able to tour once in the States, which was disappointing to me because I really believe in the live thing. So, for this record I am going to tour a lot more over here.

How was playing Lilith?

It was actually amazing. I didn’t know what to expect. I mean the atmosphere was incredible. I have never played a festival-type thing where there is so much camaraderie and support among the artists. I find that more times than not artists backstage are trying so hard to be cool that no one really hangs out together. I thought the camaraderie was really nice about Lilith. It was a really good week; I could have done it all summer.

Would you rather have that situation, where you are one among many, or would you rather be playing where people are there just to see you?

Of course it is really nice to do your own gigs. It is really gratifying when people come and know all the words to my songs. But Lilith was good because I feel that when you play a gig like that you are sort of converting people as well, which is a challenge. And I like playing outside — it’s my favorite venue.

You said that you tour extensively and enjoy the live thing. Do you feel that playing live shows is your calling, as opposed to time in the studio?

I like them both because they are accessing different parts of you. I like the studio because that is the time to be creative. Well, more so than writing, because I do that alone. I guess that is the solitary time. Then the studio is where you bring it all to life, and I love that. But being on the road is where the songs are making the connection between you and the people. I believe that I perform best live. I think I play better live than in the studio and I always try to capture that when I go to record, but it is really hard to do because there is something that happens with the energy of a gig. It allows you as a performer to abandon yourself more. It is a pretty cool feeling.

Does anything annoy you on the road?

Hotels. But you know what I hate most? It’s air conditioning. Everything is air conditioned — the bus, the hotels. I like real air. You know, you get these little pet peeves. I like being on the road. I don’t even mind the bus thing because I have a great band and crew and we have a lot of laughs. It’s nice.

I’m wondering about the crowds at your shows. I’m wondering if you ever notice anyone at your shows who is there not because of your music, but instead are there because they think you are “hot?” Do you ever get anyone screaming at you because of looks instead of your music?

I get that every now and then. But not a lot. Maybe I just don’t notice it. When I hear that, I do get upset because what can you do? It works for you and against you, being...attractive. Yet, I really feel I have reached people with my music because of the fans who come and talk to me. They talk to me about the music and the lyrics and how it meant something to them. There are always going to be a few a––holes, but what can you do? That’s life.

Tell me how you got started. Everyone says they always have had a love for music, but at what point did you say “This is what I am going to do?”

I think it came when I was faced with the real decision that you have to do something. You get out of college and you say ‘Sh–t, I can’t waffle around anymore. I have to do something with my life. I have to make a living.’ I had gone to art school and had taken painting and a lot of film courses. The logical thing was to go find a job in the film industry, because I was qualified to do that. But when it came right down to the crunch, that wasn’t going to fill my creative instinct the way music would.

I was writing a lot in college and made a demo tape. So at that point I said ‘F––k it, I’m just going to try because if I don’t try I will always wonder.’ It didn’t make much sense financially or logically, but I didn’t feel I had much to lose at that point. It was at that point that I moved to England for a number of personal reasons. I wanted an adventure and go somewhere new. I wanted to get way from a...um...a really psychotic ex-boyfriend.

So I moved there and started playing tiny gigs with my acoustic guitar and really plugged away at it. Then someone saw me play who ended up becoming my manager and then I got a record deal. It’s been a long road; it’s been seven years since I got started. It was one step at a time. The hardest part about it, as with any artist, is that your work is so much a part of you, and any rejection feels like a total kick in the face. It is hard to keep going after a rejection and keep believing in yourself.

What was your childhood like?

I was born in Bermuda. I go there to visit family even though I live in London. It was nice growing up there. What I miss the most is the life we lived there. It was very simple and the life I live now is far from that. We lived on a sailboat most of my childhood and Bermuda was homebase.

Did you go to school?

Sometimes not. Life was brought down to basics. We had no electricity or running water. It was nice in a way.

How do you think that lifestyle affected you in comparison to growing up in a suburban atmosphere?

I have no idea because I don’t know how I would have been different. I think it made me more resourceful and pretty independent. I was forced to amuse myself often. Maybe that is how I started writing songs.

How do go about making your albums true to yourself as a songwriter, especially when outside forces, like label executives may be asking for other things? How does Sirens fit into that?

When I went into the studio, my label said, ‘We really need some singles on this record.’ I just said, ‘Forget it.’ You can’t ask me to write singles. I’m not that kind of artist. I write a song if I feel it. Seriously, that’s the way I work. I write melodies because they come to me. If they sound like they will sound good on the radio, then that is a bonus. So then they shut up and left me alone. Then they heard the demos and said there were no singles and I think they were wrong. The music industry is sometimes the enemy of music, which is so ironic. But I was lucky some of it came out sounding radio-friendly. But I certainly don’t go in with that intent. I like pop and I like to create hooks and stuff. But that’s because I enjoy it.

I think every album is a reflection of you and what you are going through at that time in your life. On Oyster, I was talking about a lot of difficult personal things I was going through. In a way, some of those songs were about being a victim. On Sirens, I totally recovered and felt like this is a positive album. Musically, it is different. I started enjoying the songs on Oyster more when I played them live. On Sirens I wanted the music to breath a bit more and be more raw with the guitars more intense.

But the album is more textured and layered than a live show. I’m surprised you make that analogy.

Yeah, there are a lot of layers on it. Maybe that is what I wouldn’t do so much of on the next album. That’s what’s good. You do something on an album and think ‘Yeah, that’s it,’ until you listen to it and then you say, ‘hmmm...’

I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing.

It isn’t a bad thing. It sort of creates a journey for the next album.

What do you see as the most successful part of the album?

Well, any song I write succeeds if I feel I have captured the essence of what I want to say, which is sometimes scary to do when so many people are listening to it and judging it. But I think it is so crucial to what a good song is that you have to do it.

What is the least successful part?

I wouldn’t change anything radical.

Fourteen songs is an unusually large number of tunes for a solo artist to put on one album. Where did that decision come from?

I had forty songs written for this album. So I then narrowed it down to twenty and then we recorded eighteen of those. I had to chose which four to take off and it was really hard. I wanted to take five or six off but I couldn’t decide which ones. I know it is a little longer than I would like because I believe an album should be fifty minutes. Hey, look at it as more value for the money.

What would you be doing a year from now if you couldn’t play any longer?

Probably having a baby. There are many other things that interest me. I am into Chinese medicine and I would like to study that kind of alternative medicine. There is a whole other realm of healing that the West could be open to.

What have you been listening to?

Elliot Smith, Maxwell, Massive Attack, Air.

Tell me what you think about criticism and critics. Do you think sitting here is total bullshit and you just do it because it is a necessary evil?

In a way I have problem with criticism with art, in general. I think if someone is making something which is true to herself, which is something with integrity and something that is meaningful to them, then enough said. Then that’s valid and that is a piece of art and that is going to move people. Then there is no need for criticism. The problem is arising when people are making stuff for alternative reasons, like ego and stuff. Then maybe the critics are needed to point that out. There are some really good journalists out there and then there are some who just like to hear themselves talk.

What is the worst question you’ve been asked in an interview?

‘What is it like to be a woman in rock?’ I hate that question. MR

This article was published in the 28 October 1998 edition of The Michigan Review (Volume 17, Number 3).
For questions or comments, see the Contact Information page.