BENEE Knows Good Things Take Time

We’re in Manhattan, sitting in a Lower East Side garden, and BENEE is telling PAPER about the gap between her latest album, Ur an Angel I'm Just Particles, released earlier this month, and her critically acclaimed debut, Hey u x, which she shared in 2020.

“At the start, I was trying to make something faster,” she says of her time in Los Angeles working with Buddy Ross (Haim, Frank Ocean). “He’s a legend, and he brought up the album Blonde. He was like, ‘Do you know how long that album took to make?’ He assured me that good things take time, which I think is a cliché. But unfortunately, it’s true. It feels like you have to release to stay relevant. At the start, I felt that pressure, but then slowly I started to accept that it was just how I was going to work. I could only make it better if I really sat down intentionally with this album. It’s an important one.”

Slowing down was fruitful for the New Zealand-born singer-songwriter, leading her to write one of the first songs from the album, “Heaven.” “It was one of the earlier ones I made that I felt was setting a good tone and felt intentional,” she says. “I felt as though I was actually saying something. I was doing a bunch of sessions and writing songs that felt the most meaningful and important, then putting them together and creating the storyline. That’s when I had that awakening. I knew what the story was and what I was trying to say. That’s important.”

Where her biggest hits, like the double-platinum, bedroom-pop anthem “Supalonely” and alternative radio mainstay “Glitter,” can be seen as bubbly party tracks, Ur an Angel dives into existential dread, grappling with the fleeting nature of existence. For BENEE, it was important not to remake what she’d already done. “You don’t keep making the same thing,” she says. “It’s the evolution of an artist. I went into sessions in L.A. with people who wanted to recreate [‘Supalonely’], and every time it was so lame. It was so bad. I don’t think I can precalculate a hit. I can’t chase it. I don’t want it, even. I want big tours and big shows with big productions, but I don’t think I can chase a hit.”

Instead, she’s chasing authenticity — whether it’s working with fellow creative genre-pushers like PinkPantheress on her new track “Princess” or spending her time reading Stephen Hawking. Ur an Angel may have started as a cyclical study on the ephemeral nature of things, but when it comes to how she wants people to feel when they hear it, she wants them to feel very much alive. “I want them to enter another world,” she says. “This album was so intentional, which I haven’t done yet. This one is cohesive. I’m already thinking of future projects. This one is narrative. I’m following themes of obsession, breakdown, chaos and ascent — in that order. That’s the story, and those are the changes.”

Below, BENEE talks about Ur an Angel I’m Just Particles, grappling with the success of her first album, and the beauty of feeling every emotion.

Ur An Angel I'm Just Particles comes out on November 7. And you released your last album in 2020? That’s insane!

It’s messed up.

Well … it’s not that much time in actual life. But for the music industry, with people constantly putting things out, how did that time feel for you? Was it necessary? Rewarding?

At the start, I was trying to make something a little faster. Then I made a bunch of songs and it wasn’t hitting. I slowed down after a few sessions. I was talking to producers and they encouraged me that it was fine. I worked with Buddy Ross, he’s a legend, and he brought up the album, Blonde. He worked with Frank. He was like, “Do you know how long that album took to make?” He assured me that good things take time, which I think is a cliché. But unfortunately, it’s true. You can get absorbed by the pace in which the streaming moves at. It feels like you have to release to stay relevant. At the start, I felt that pressure but then slowly I started to accept that it was just how I was going to work. I could only make it better if I really sat down intentionally with this album. It’s an important one.

What song or moment were you able to see that shift from pushing to make an album to when it started flowing?

“Heaven” was one of the first songs. It was one of the earlier ones I made for this album that I felt was setting a good tone and made it feel more intentional. I felt as though I was actually saying something. It was doing a bunch of sessions and having songs that felt the most meaningful and important, then putting them together and creating the storyline. That’s when I had that awakening. I knew what the story was and what I was trying to say. That’s important. I was making a lot of demos where I didn’t know what I was saying.

What made the story come together for you? How did you know it was going to unfold into the album?

After moving to LA — I’ve been there for almost three years — when I moved there, I felt so lost and confused and overwhelmed by this complete life switch. I was isolated and started to ask all these huge questions. Like, “What is life?” I read a book by Stephen Hawking, and had a lightbulb moment. I was like, “Why am I worried about all these stupid little things in life?” That allowed me to get deeper and make sure I was saying things that I felt were important and helpful in this climate. There are lots of things going on, lots of terrible things, and it’s important as artists to have pure intention. For me, a way to cope is by having a childlike wonder lens or a fantastical world that I can escape into. That was what I wanted to do. I wanted to make that world for people in whatever way I could. That was a switch for me.

This damn well might be heaven.

What made the story come together for you? How did you know it was going to unfold into the album?

After moving to LA — I’ve been there for almost three years — when I moved there, I felt so lost and confused and overwhelmed by this complete life switch. I was isolated and started to ask all these huge questions. Like, “What is life?” I read a book by Stephen Hawking, and had a lightbulb moment. I was like, “Why am I worried about all these stupid little things in life?” That allowed me to get deeper and make sure I was saying things that I felt were important and helpful in this climate. There are lots of things going on, lots of terrible things, and it’s important as artists to have pure intention. For me, a way to cope is by having a childlike wonder lens or a fantastical world that I can escape into. That was what I wanted to do. I wanted to make that world for people in whatever way I could. That was a switch for me.

Which Stephen Hawking book? What was it about it?

Do you feel like the overwhelm you had when you first moved to Los Angeles has gone down? Or have you begun handling it differently?

It’s gone down somewhat but I still get pretty homesick. Having a community and a partner makes it a lot easier to cope. But I think the first couple years, I was definitely feeling pretty isolated. It’s like going to a new school and you’re like “Fuck, I need to make friends.” All my friends were in New Zealand. LA was a weird place to find friends because I felt like I was attracting pretty weird people. There were a couple of people I had to cut off. Everyone warned me about it and I was so naive. I was like, “They’re so nice!” But I got a rude awakening. I was sitting in that loneliness, which was helpful in a way. I was forced to wonder why I’m here and what I’m doing and it made me think about my music a lot deeper.

I’m from the South and moving here, to New York, people warn you about people, and it's still shocking. You’re like, “Wait a minute ..."

There are so many weirdos. I’m like, “Do you want to be my friend? What do you want? What are you gonna do?” It’s odd that people don’t want a genuine connection. It feels like an illusion.

Right. Then genuine people get left with the dance of balancing letting people in so you meet the good ones but also maintaining boundaries to protect themselves.

There’s a lot of isolation. I think of the lonely poet. I’m a lonely musician. Which is fine. I’m not lonely, but there are times when I feel alone. But it makes me think about everyone who is an immigrant or a refugee. Anyone who has to leave their family or home to find a safer life. For me, it’s a privileged version of that. I’m doing a job where I have so much freedom, but it’s really hard. Anyone who’s moved anywhere knows it’s hard. I can't just go over to my mom’s house and I’m so close with her. I call her every day. It’s also just growing up. That's what this album is, though. It’s growing up and waking up to these big questions that I don’t actually have the answers to.

I was forced to wonder why I’m here and what I’m doing and it made me think about my music a lot deeper.

A lot of the album is you making sense of the world. Do you feel like you’re getting better at finding some of these answers? Or making better sense of the world through this album?

I think so. It’s good to just learn all the time. That’s what life’s about. It’s just lessons and maybe we end up coming to some kind of conclusion or resolution at the end. But yes, living in the emotion and being able to be sad is important. Feel it and come out of it. Humans are so complex and life is so beautiful. I’ve come to love it so much, even though there’s stuff that’s sad. This damn well might be heaven.

That’s funny. I’ve never thought about it like that. I’ve thought maybe it was hell.

I know. But what if it is heaven? I think for some people it is hell, but there are days when I’m just like, this is so serene and beautiful. We have plants and nature and little animals that just want us to be happy. We have people who are smiling. What could be better than that?

I go back and forth between thinking about life deeply and knowing I need to just enjoy it. Like, just watch the movie. You don’t need to analyze it. But I’m like, “I have to write down what’s happening. I have to read the script.”

But how much fun is it to think and wonder? That’s the childlike wonder thing. I love that lens for life.

What was the first song you knew would be on Ur an Angel, I’m Just Particles?

It was either “Heaven” or “Sad Boiii.” Those were the earlier ones, both made with New Zealand producers. “Heaven” I made on an island in New Zealand. I stayed in the bush with Josh Fountain who I made a lot of my earlier music with. I wrote it when I lost my granddad. That was such a crazy time because that experience of losing someone and thinking about life and death might have triggered a lot of craziness for me. It was a weird feeling. I was looking at my skin and being like, “What are we? What the fuck is going on here?” Losing someone was also a weird awakening, where I realized we only have a little bit of time. And it’s fast, whatever we’re doing right now. It doesn’t last long. I think you can dwell on things your whole life, but not knowing and wondering what we’re doing on this rock becomes overwhelming and scary. You have to make it a party. You have to watch the movie and drink the wine and eat the fucking bread and swim in the ocean. And that is my Ted Talk.

You have a collab with PinkPantheress. How did it come together?

I made it with a producer named Sly. It happened so quickly. He had 20 minutes at the end of a session and we wrote the song. It’s a fantastical, feel-good anthem. I was walking into the party and owning the space, but also was like, “Why is my man looking at her?” That extreme arrogance was taken over by a feeling of extreme anger. Those kinds of emotions are fun to write about. I had the song and knew I wanted a feature. I had some potential candidates but Pink was at the top of my list. She has such a good ear for melodies and lyrics. We’re in the same circle in LA so I texted her asking. It’s always a bit weird reaching out, but I get it because sometimes people send me demos and I’m like, “I don’t know how I’m going to make this better." I don’t want people to think of that as a rejection. But anyways, she hit me back and sent me the stems and I was like, “Thanks, bro.”

She’s extraordinary. She’s on another wave.

She’s hilarious. She’s got a funny personality. She’s onto something really unique which is super inspiring. Also, coming from the UK where there’s a sense of humor is fucking sick. She added so much to the song. We’re gonna make a cool video in LA with a giant, pink, inflatable castle with a rave inside. It’s gonna be sick.

You’re music is also very unique. How do you stay true to yourself while collaborating with others … keeping things new, without having other people’s sounds seep into your brain?

It’s weird. A lot of us artists work as sponges, absorbing things around us and spitting out a product of that. It’s really important to preserve your own sound. I hear so much stuff now that sounds the same. You can listen to something and say it sounds like Sabrina Carpenter or PinkPantheress. For me, when I’m listening to new music, if something sounds good I know I can listen to it ao I don’t want to make it. The genre of some of my earlier stuff wound up getting super overdone. The indie-pop with the funk. At the time, we were getting requests to make more of it. That’s why I didn’t, because it all ended up the same. That’s how the world works though. I like to make something new. Something I haven’t done or haven’t heard. Even if that is taking elements from other artists, the energy can translate and not copy. It’s hard to do. But when I was making songs, for a long time, in the first year, so many of them were kind of hyperpop. I was having fun and people liked it. Then people got sick of it and I realized it wasn’t a vibe. It wasn’t timeless and I didn’t feel anything from listening to it. I could have kept releasing that but it wouldn’t have done much.

Let’s talk about “Cinnamon,” since it was the first introduction to this era for many people. How did this song come to you? What were you hoping to translate with it?

I worked on it with Ryan Raines, a producer in LA. He’s a drummer and my drummer, Felix, who I tour with, he had met Ryan while we were out on tour. Ryan was playing with Dominic Fike at the time. When I came to LA and got the opportunity to work with Ryan, Felix was like, “I know Ryan!” and it was just a small world moment. I love him. We made a few songs from the album together. He’s such a kind guy.

That really sticks with you, when people are really nice.

Well, it’s what I’m used to, especially when I started making music. I was working with Josh and quite a few collaborators. They’re all so kind and nerdy in the best way. In the way I am. So much of music is ego and people with humongous egos. With Ryan, we never know what we’re doing for the first couple of minutes, but then it ends up rolling out and sounding good. I love working with him. It’s such a comfortable setup. He’s super talented and has a really good air about everything. I can tell him exactly what I want. “Cinnamon” was my first song writing about the LA experience and getting there and being messed around by a couple people. I knew I wasn’t meant to be getting treated like this. It was a rude awakening. In the chorus, it’s this weird breath and let go where I’m like “This is what it is,” and I have to find some peace in it. I had to be content knowing that it’s where I’m meant to be right now. I kept saying “Ride the wave.” I got a bit depressed, secretly. It crept up on me.

Sometimes I don’t realize I was depressed until after, and then I’m like “Oh.”

Right? I was smoking weed so much the first year or two and now I’ve quit. I thought I was being really productive but I wasn’t. That song, to me, is really meaningful. It feels like all those emotions I was having those first few years being in a new environment.

We talked a little bit your early sound and tracks like “Supalonely” and that high. Everyone wanted to jump on that and make something similar. Was it hard to move away from that sound? How do you look back on that time? How do you create new things when people love an original idea?

It’s odd. I'm even guilty about saying that about artists’ first albums. But it’s not how it works. You don’t keep making the same thing. It’s the evolution of an artist. I definitely have heard that song and wanted to go back to those indie vibes and that organic, New Zealand sound. But I went into sessions in LA with people who wanted to recreate it, and every time it was so lame. It was so bad. I don’t think I can precalculate a hit. I can’t chase it. I don’t want it, even. I want big tours and big shows with big productions, but I don’t think I can chase that hit. After releasing it, it sucked seeing people come out and then switch on me and call it a one-hit-wonder. I was on a steady path before the fans came along and grabbed onto the hit, then dipped. It’s been weird to navigate. And it was hard to not be able to tour when it was big. I realized after how depressed I was about losing that opportunity. Because that’s the moment when you connect with people and chase that.

That's what this album is. It’s growing up and waking up to these big questions that I don’t actually have the answers to.

How did you grow your self-trust? You keep going back to yourself and what you know. That’s not something a lot of people have. Have you always felt that way?

[Remember] things are working. Whatever you’re doing is working. You can collaborate with people or get advice from people, but to actually apply it yourself is different. Part of it is stubbornness and fuel of ego. It’s a weird artistic ego of also hating yourself at the same time. When you’re making art or writing or painting, you won’t necessarily write it from someone else’s perspective. If I’m Picasso and painting, I’m not asking someone random for advice? But I’ve become more open to collaborating this year. I’ve been very insular in the past. Michael Jackson worked with Quincy Jones a lot and Elton John worked with a writer. All these huge artists who have the best music didn’t necessarily make it alone. Finding the right collaborators is key. They can help capture what you’re about and put it in your story. I was 17 when I started making music. If I were working with different collaborators, it could’ve been a different story. My collaborators allowed me to be myself. And that’s why I trust the gut. You have to trust it more than you think.

If there was a feeling or energy or message that listeners could take away after listening to the album, what do you hope it is? What do you want to transmute their way?

I hope they see it as a filter. Like life through a different lens. I worked really hard to make it this way. I want them to see the beauty and contrasting emotions. It’s polar opposites at times. I hope they listen and watch and feel inspired. If things are more mundane, maybe they can see them in a different light. Look at a bug and don’t squish it, you know? I hope they feel comfort. I hope they feel heard. I want them to enter another world. This album was so intentional, which I haven’t done yet. This one is cohesive. I’m already thinking of future projects. This one is narrative, I’m following themes of obsession, breakdown, chaos and ascent. In that order. That’s the story and those are the changes. The next body will be something new. It’ll be a different way to evolve as an artist. I’m already thinking about it.

Photography: Ally Chen