Why Alanis Morissette believes she could write the celebrity survival handbook the industry needs

Fame can be surprisingly damaging if you’re not ready for it, and Alanis Morissette experienced this firsthand. Three decades ago, her album “Jagged Little Pill” launched her to superstardom, winning five Grammy Awards – including Album of the Year and Best Rock Album – and selling an incredible 33 million copies.

Alanis Morissette has a complex relationship with being famous. She’ll be exploring this, as well as reflecting on her amazing career of the last thirty years, in a new show at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, starting Wednesday and continuing through November 2nd.

In a recent interview with The Times, Alanis Morissette described her upcoming Las Vegas show as more than just a concert. She explained it will be a storytelling experience, highlighting her personality – including her humor, ability to improvise, and focus on wellness – and showcasing everything that has shaped her career.

I really enjoyed your collaboration with Carly Simon on “Coming Around Again.” I feel a strong connection between both of your music across different generations. There’s a lot of similarity between “You’re So Vain” and “You Oughta Know,” and I’m sure you’re both tired of being asked who those songs are actually about!

A lot of people seem to confuse wanting revenge with just *fantasizing* about it, and I can’t speak for Carly, but they’re different. I’m all for letting out your anger creatively – through art, physical activity, whatever helps you release it. I’m not always the most restrained person in my daily life, but when it comes to actual revenge, it often feels childish and unproductive. That’s all I want to say about it right now.

It’s incredible to think it’s been 30 years since “Jagged Little Pill” came out. It reminded me of seeing Bruce Springsteen in 1988, when he played “Born to Run” acoustically. He used to introduce the song by saying he’d thought a lot about how much of himself was in it, and how much he *didn’t* want to be defined by it. I found that really insightful, because naturally, some songs feel like they perfectly capture who you are. It made me wonder, what songs did *you* want to represent you?

I’ve written a lot of songs about what I hope for in relationships. I remember times when I’d share a song with a partner, and they’d be confused, thinking it wasn’t about them. And they’d be right – it was about the potential I saw, what I *wanted* us to be. Thinking about that now, especially as I’m working on my Vegas show and revisiting older songs, I realize how naive I was when I wrote “Not the Doctor.” The line about someone’s issues ‘getting away from’ me feels different now that I’ve been married for 15 years. I understand that you accept your partner’s challenges as part of a long-term commitment. It’s funny to sing that line now, knowing that you really do take each other on, everything included.

The song “Incomplete” is essentially a hopeful expression, a kind of prayer, about wanting to be a good person. Similarly, “Knees of My Bees” explores my desires and celebrates vulnerability. I often combine elements from the experiences of seven different people who’ve shared similar patterns in their lives, blending them into a single song and creating a unified, honest narrative.

People are wondering if the show might run for longer. You’re clearly putting in a lot of effort for something that’s currently only scheduled for a short time.

For a long time, people – even journalists – have been skeptical when I say this, but I don’t focus on how many people see my work. Whether three people or 300,000 watch a show, that’s out of my hands right now. I’m focused on creating stories and sharing parts of myself I used to hide. Back in the 90s, there was a strong pressure to stick to one thing and not risk your career by exploring other interests. I’m still working on letting go of that limiting mindset. It feels like the 90s encouraged us to be narrow in our focus, but what happens when someone has many talents and passions they want to share? We were expected to suppress those. So, over the years, I’ve been asking myself how I can bring all these different parts of myself into everything I do – through my academic work, movement, creative expression, live performances, and even interviews like this one. There are so many ways to express yourself, but the 90s really pushed the idea that you had to stick to one or two paths or risk failure. Thankfully, that message is changing.

How have you seen culture and values change over your career?

People’s aspirations seem to have shifted. It’s no longer enough to want to be rich or even young-looking; now it’s about achieving extreme wealth and perpetually appearing very young. Previously, people often sought fame to support a cause, but now fame is often the goal itself. This shift in values is noticeable, though many of us reject it. It feels like some believe fame alone will fix deeper emotional issues, but that’s not true. I personally hoped fame would bring a strong sense of belonging and connection, a feeling of being surrounded by people who understood me, but that hasn’t been my experience.

It’s amazing to feel grateful just to come through fame relatively unscathed. Surviving it is a big accomplishment.

A major part of making this Vegas show work depends on me getting it right, but without being overly dramatic. It really makes you wonder how things are still happening.

How does the show portray that? It’s interesting because you’re so passionate about wellness and mental health, and yet the show is set in Las Vegas, a city not typically known for prioritizing those things.

Las Vegas has a reputation for indulgence, including gambling and letting loose. The famous saying, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” really captures that idea. But I think things are changing. I’ve always believed in the power of my audience – even when they tell me my shows are intense. They always have the option to step away if it’s too much. That’s one reason I love performing in Vegas – it feels limitless, a place where you can truly be yourself and express anything, like wearing a boa or even doing a backflip! For years, I felt pressured to stay focused on one thing – mainly singing. But I have so many other passions, like dancing, comedy, writing, public speaking, and leading workshops. I’ve been nurturing these other creative outlets privately, and now I’m bringing them into my music and performances because that’s just who I am.

Sinéad O’Connor put it beautifully – you can love someone’s work without liking them as a person. She explained how people want artists to express intense emotions in their music, but don’t realize the artist actually *feels* those emotions. It’s like we use artists as a mirror, projecting our own feelings onto them – loving them, hating them, or attacking them – and it’s all about what *we* feel, not who *they* are. Being in the public eye is a really strange experience, and people often lack empathy for what that’s like, except maybe for those of us who understand it.

Sinéad found it incredibly difficult to cope with the negativity she faced, even though she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. She never really learned how to deal with such hateful behavior.

It’s striking how many public figures we’ve lost, and there’s a real lack of guidance for dealing with the pressures they face. A big part of it is temperament – how someone is naturally wired. I used to speak at neuroscience conferences about how important temperament is, especially when considering things like suicide prevention. Many artists are highly sensitive and empathetic, which is a form of neurodivergence – they’re easily overstimulated, high-achievers, and incredibly perceptive. These qualities make them amazing artists, but they also make them vulnerable to intense negativity, like the hate Sinéad O’Connor experienced. We desperately need resources to help people process these attacks. It’s important to do ‘shadow work’ – to explore difficult feelings that rejection or criticism bring up, and to address them in therapy. But it’s equally important to also recognize your own kindness and compassion. That balance – acknowledging both the ‘shadow’ and the light – is what true wholeness feels like.

Being older, what have you learned about how to deal with all this?

Steve, I honestly feel like I’ve learned enough to create a guide for new celebrities. If we worked together, I could write it, and we could give it to anyone just starting out.

Now that you’ve achieved so much, do you feel a sense of duty to share your knowledge and experience with up-and-coming artists like Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo?

I’m incredibly enthusiastic about it. I’m a very conscientious and empathetic person, and I’m constantly amazed by others. Seeing people like Olivia gives me hope – it makes me feel like everything will be alright, that we’ll all be okay as long as people like her exist. [laughs]

What happened to your book?

I spent two years recording stories, originally thinking they might become a memoir. But I quickly realized a full life story wasn’t something I wanted to create. It’s impossible to capture an entire life in a way that feels meaningful. I prefer focusing on specific moments or chapters – snapshots in time. That’s actually why I love songs; they perfectly capture a single moment, usually in around four minutes. That’s what I’m aiming for with this project – to capture these moments, and for me, that’s what this story is all about: a single, powerful moment.

I’ve noticed a lot of artists really enjoy the flexibility of performing in Las Vegas, where they can change up their setlist each night. Since you’re putting on a show, will you be mixing things up and doing different material, or will it be more of a structured performance with a storyline?

I’ve always loved the balance between structure and spontaneity, both as an actor and personally. I like having a basic framework, but then being able to improvise within it. It’s how my brain works – I need some predictability, but I also enjoy freedom and flexibility. That’s exactly what we’re aiming for with this project. It’s new territory for me publicly, though I’ve been doing improv since I was a teenager. I believe comedy is a powerful form of expression and even a form of activism, perhaps even more so than music. We’re bringing together different art forms, and I’m not focused on any specific result. It’s incredibly freeing to create – whether it’s a song, an email, or anything else – simply for the joy of self-expression. That’s enough.

Do you feel like you’re having more fun now at this point in your career than any other point?

I really enjoy working with others, and while this experience isn’t necessarily *more* fun than previous collaborations, there are definitely a lot more people involved. Before, it was usually just me, or me and a close friend, or me and Glen Ballard. That felt pretty focused and self-contained. But with this musical and the Vegas show, the number of collaborators has increased at least five times over. I’ve often said that I’m happiest when I’m surrounded by incredibly talented people, and that’s definitely true here – the combined creativity feels like it multiplies exponentially. It’s a fantastic, collaborative environment.

Do you feel like, as you’re getting older, people are embracing you more?

I feel much more understood now. For a long time, I felt like my message wasn’t connecting with anyone, and I expected to always be on the fringes. I honestly thought I’d always feel isolated. But after about 30 years, it’s amazing to find that people are actually responding to what I’ve been saying all along. It’s incredibly rewarding and healing to finally feel that connection.

2025-10-15 13:33

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