Cecile Believe's Enduring Belief

Cecile Believe's Enduring Belief

Story by Tobias Hess / Photography by Julian Buchan
Aug 14, 2024

“Hello, did you know it’s my voice on all these songs that you love?” asks artist, writer and super-producer Cecile Believe in a recent video. The initiated know this already, but for those out of the loop, it was a necessary reminder: Believe has lent her voice and artistry to a history-making sum of songs that include, but are not limited to, SOPHIE’s “Immaterial” and “Faceshopping,” A.G. Cook's “Show Me What" and Sega Bodega’s “Elk Skin.” Her voice — emotive yet nonchalant, snarky yet elastic — has become an indelible part of PC Music and co's wider sonic landscape.

But as her video alludes, Cecile Believe is much more than an enthralling voice. Long regarded for her production work with Caroline Polacheck, Dorian Electra, Hannah Diamond and others, Cecile Believe is the kind of canny sonic artisan who knows how to polish up a pop song and then throw it against the wall to see just what it looks like.

While her production is singular, it’s on her own projects where her penchant for pop delectability shines most clearly. Her 2020 album Plucking a Cherry From The Void became a tastemaker hit as fellow artists came to cherish its sonic punch — like on album highlight “Stay Open,” where Believe shows her theatrical poeticism, her breathy voice twirling in the ear like a sonnet, or on “Bitch Bites Dog” where she smashes a club hit and pop anthem together just to feel the heat of its explosion.

Even with all that solo accomplishment, some of her collaborations have been so historic, so glimmering, that Believe’s IYKYK solo success has lent her an unintentional modicum of mystery. But when you’re as busy as Believe, that's the price of doing business. “I think if you’re an artist/producer/writer, you have to section out your time,” Believe tells PAPER. “I still get so much satisfaction writing for other people, but there's something special about what we do, as our own artist projects.”

These days, she’s leaning into her light via her new EP, Tender the Spark, a six-track project that spans the range of Believe’s musical expanse. There’s the ethereal rage of “Redbrick,” which features Believe’s voice gliding towards the heavens, even as her words suggest a more ominous subtext. And there’s “Blink Twice,” which harkens back to the pugnacious fight of “Bitch Bites Dog.” “If you wanna fly in the sky/ She’s your guy/ And if you feel shy/ Blink twice,” a robotized Believe bleeps out over a bass-heavy motor. And then there’s “The Pearl,” a moving ode to her late collaborator SOPHIE.

“I was in Montreal, and it was very isolated. It was winter and there were curfews. I was just alone in my apartment with a guitar,” Believe remembers when she wrote the song soon after SOPHIE’s tragic passing. What she wrote about her close collaborator and later recorded in a folk-style session with nothing more than cello, guitar and her own voice was a “revelation” for her process, which has long been tied to her computer. “Everything [was] live and everything [was] miked. I was quite shocked at how beautiful it sounded just on its own,” she recalls. “It was this revelation about process, because I've been so liberated by the personal computer. It was a lesson in the power of the voice and sharing musicality with other friends.”

As Believe faces her spotlit moment, she has a crew of supporters rooting for her. Fellow mega-producer and artist Sega Bodega is releasing the album on his label, Ambient Tweets, while other producers like Umru are singing her praises. With PAPER family Blizzy Mcguire and River Moon showing up to announce their membership in her fan club, it's clear that the number of Cecile Believers (my coinage) are growing by the day.

This is made all the more rewarding by the fact that she’s been at this for a while. And while all of this pomp may seem like a far cry from her days as a DIY indie musician in Montreal, when she was releasing music as Mozart’s Sister, she’s still the same artist, committed as ever, to the slogging work of what she calls her “calling."

“[A friend was] asking [me], ‘What is the most radical thing [you’ve] done in [your] career so far?’ And I think it is like actually just staying,” Believe tells PAPER. “I think it's very radical to stay, especially in music and in the arts...The story of someone who doesn't disappear is inspiring to me.” Believe has certainly not disappeared. The artist is present.

Believe chatted with PAPER in the lead-up to the release of Tender the Spark to chat about the long road to this EP, deep collaborations and enduring commitments.

I know you're living in LA by way of Canada. How’s LA been treating you artistically?

It feels like LA doesn't have a scene musically, but everybody comes here to make music. So there's a lot of music happening, but it's in this more structured, factory-like style with rooms and sessions. It’s all through who you've been paired with by publishers and managers. I’ve found it to be quite exciting in a way, because there's less cliquiness in the way. Money is the great equalizer on a certain level. People are down to try stuff and down to [work together] because who knows?

Totally. Well, we’re speaking in the lead-up to your new EP. You made most of it during the pandemic right?

I started making it in mid-2021, but I worked on it until last year.

That surprised me, because there's optimism about the record. It’s a mix, but I hear it, especially on certain songs like “Ponytail” or “I Love Everything.” What was your mindset during that time?

As far as what was going on in my life, it was somewhat fractured. I was up in the air. I was in LA before the pandemic, and then I left. So I was unsure of my future. Also SOPHIE died, which was really hard and also kind of psychedelic in a way, and really painful. And then Plucking a Cherry from the Void got some love and attention, mostly from artists. It didn't get any playlist or editorial [support] or anything like that, but other artists liked it and heard it. So, I started working with a lot of other people around that time.

I was living in these two different realities. One was being in Montreal in a really severe COVID lockdown, dealing with grief, dealing with an uncertain future. And then also, I was having this experience of the ripple effect of my last work forging this path [for me]. It was a lot. The title of the EP [Tender the Spark] talks about that because it was about keeping this little flame alive. And then I started coming back to LA and working, and it opened up this hopefulness. I was like, Maybe I don't need to quit music and be a nanny full time?

Were you considering moving on to something else?

I think in 2020 it was just so uncertain. I just started releasing music as Cecile Believe. I was like, Who am I? People maybe generally feel like, oh, I'm too late. I've missed it. But everything was shutting down. And I thought that way for the first six months of the pandemic. But there's something also freeing about that, like Well, now, I just get to make music. There's less expectation.

Who are some of the other artists who you've connected with since that last project that formed your greater artistic community during the time that you were making this record?

I worked on a bunch of other projects. I worked with Hannah Diamond, Dorian Electra, Shygirl, Empress Of and Caroline Polachek, but we were friends before. I just got connected with this network of hyperpop adjacent artists. My last work [Plucking Cherry from the Void] was a calling card. I wanted to work on other projects. So it’s something that I opened myself up to maybe six or seven years ago. And so that was something that I wanted to pursue. It took me in different directions.

The writing on the EP is very imaginative and playful. Some of it sounds like fantasy. I was curious to hear about the relationship between your life as you live it daily and these songs.

I think that I live in a fantasy land. I've long used fantasizing or dreaming to frame real life. On a song like “Red Brick,” it's poetic language, but I was trying to express a feeling of frustration at feeling stuck, and this sort of primal, childlike rage. And that's definitely very real. Something like “Ponytail” is much more imaginative. I’m not literally putting my ponytail out the window, but that phrase speaks to a liberated feeling. You've stolen daddy's car and are on a joy ride because he fucked up the world so fuck him. A lot of music that I’ve really loved is a mixture of kitchen sink realism and fantasy, so I think that I reflect that.

“The Pearl” is a really beautiful piece and a gorgeous tribute to SOPHIE. I’m curious about the process of that song, to the extent you’re comfortable sharing about it.

It was actually a revelation to me. I wrote it after SOPHIE passed, and I was inMontreal, and it was very isolated. It was winter. There were curfews. And so at like 7 PM, I was just alone in my apartment with a guitar. I wrote these songs, and there were a few others that I recorded as well. And I was like, I don't know what to do with these. I have these songs that sounds so good with acoustic guitar. So I recorded them with the artist Ori on cello and my friend, Brad, on guitar, and we just did a very traditional, folk-style recording, which was just recording in a room: and doing it all in one take with no overdubs. Everything is live and everything is miked. I did do a little bit of after effects, but very little. I was quite shocked at how beautiful it sounded just on its own. It was this revelation about process, because I've been so liberated by the personal computer, as a person who played in bands when I was younger and struggled to communicate my musical ideas through words. So having the computer was like this big “Aha!” moment for me, where I could make everything myself. And then I felt like I was so obsessed with the type of music you could do with a computer that I was like, “Everything else is shit,” or, “Band stuff is not for me.” I was very biased against a recording of that nature. I thought I would have to manipulate it to make it sound good, but I didn't really have to do much at all. It sounded very beautiful on its own. It was a lesson in the power of the voice and sharing musicality with other friends.

You're releasing this on Sega Bodga's label, Ambient Tweets. I believe you're the first non-Sega project released by the label. What's that process been like?

He makes an amazing A&R. I wish that musicians got the opportunity to work with other musicians on the A&R side, because he understands how to make music. The creative conversations we had, especially throughout the actual musical process, were also technical in nature as they are. It's like, adding 10 decibels of reverb is going to give it a different emotional quality. These are technical details that a layman might not understand, but just knowing that I could also trust his judgment, and I obviously very much admire his taste. Has been super cool. He has a lot of insight.

And obviously, so much has changed in the music industry, and it changes every month. Having somebody who is like invested in their own project ... it's not some distant money going to the project. It's just us. We're doing this together. There's a real care and commitment to it. It's not. “Oh, well, this will get paid off by our other artist, that is gonna be a Billboard charter.” So it's been really good.

You talked in your Vogue interview about the narrative around you waiting for when it’s going to be “your time.” I think it has been your time consistently, but I get the sense that with the EP you're making a super concerted effort to stand in your spotlight.

I think if you’re an artist/producer/writer you have to section out your time. I still get so much satisfaction from writing for other people. But there's something special about what we do, as our own artist projects. It's really rewarding. It's it's a lot of work and a lot of PR work and social media work. It’s all these things where I’m like, This is adding up to something, but I don't get to see the result, maybe as quickly as when I’m in the room with someone else and we write a song in a day. There's a lot of labor that goes into the artist project side of things, but it's been very rewarding. And I think this time I've learned a lot more about how to do videos and imagining the visual world a lot more and making it happen, with help obviously. It’s really gratifying. It makes me want to do more.

You've been around for a while and in so many different capacities in music. You have demonstrated a lot of resilience in an industry that is very difficult to sustain. I was just curious about your reflections on how you've been able to do that.

I guess it doesn't always feel so much like a choice. It was more like a calling. I've probably made some poor decisions because of this thing. Living in an affordable city has helped me a lot. Now I'm in LA, and I'm like, “Okay, shit's real." I said this recently in a different conversation with a friend. They were asking, “What is the most radical thing [you’ve] done in my career so far?” And I think it is like actually just staying. I think it's very radical to stay, especially in music and in the arts, and that inspires me. The story of someone who doesn't disappear is inspiring to me. I've always been inspired by all the stories of people who emerge as their most iconic selves later in life. I think that's very exciting. People need to hear that story because everyone's gonna get old, you know?

Photography: Julian Buchan
Lighting: Taylor Russ