Brandi Carlile on singing at the Super Bowl, hanging out with Joni Mitchell and fishing without bananas | Canada Voices

With 11 Grammys and eight solo albums to her name, Brandi Carlile has carved a singular space in music, fusing folk storytelling with the power of rock and the depth of soul.

Her voice can morph from sounding like a quiet afternoon in an intimate coffee house to a night out at a packed arena. This weekend Carlile’s range is getting tested at the Superbowl, where the singer is set to sing, “America the Beautiful.” While her forte is crafting deeply personal songs (The Story, Human and The Joke being the most popular), her ability to connect with legends has proven to be formidable. She coaxed both Joni Mitchell and Annie Lennox back to the stage and recently collaborated with Elton John on an album.

Off stage, Carlile lives in Washington state with her British wife, Catherine Shepherd and their two daughters. Together they helm a charity The Looking Out Foundation, which focuses on social justice causes.

Shortly before the Super Bowl and her concert at Toronto’s Scotiabank Arena on Feb. 18, Carlile opens up about Canadian obsessions – like fishing in B.C. – and her bond with Mitchell.

You’re singing America the Beautiful at the Super Bowl. How have you considered performing this song in this political climate?

It’s been incredibly mind-expanding. I always wished it was our anthem. Listening to Ray Charles and Whitney Houston sing it, it sounds like a belief about where America’s going instead of a brag about where it is – or where it’s been. When I learned the woman who wrote it was a lesbian, and why she wrote it, it started to feel more like a hope, a prayer, a belief than a celebration. I can’t lean into celebration right now, but I can lean into where we need to get to.

Singer Jill Scott received backlash for rewriting the U.S. national anthem at Essence Fest recently. What do you think about criticism artists face when they reinterpret songs that are deemed sacred?

She certainly didn’t deserve that critique. Activism exists on a spectrum – from protest to philanthropy – and where people fall on it has to do with how honest they can be with themselves. Are you articulate? Do you have resources? Are you brave enough to put your body in harm’s way? How you answer [those questions] becomes your legacy.

You’re considered an honorary Canadian because you were able to coax Joni Mitchell out of retirement. What is a night off with Mitchell really like?

She’s formidable, but she’s also light on her feet. She has this helium balloon laugh that could peel paint.

A song on your album called Joni, is dedicated to Mitchell and has the lyrics: “She laughs at all the pop stars. And she doesn’t even care if they hear her.” Please spill the tea.

She does laugh at the way we dance, the way we dress, and she does not care who hears it. That verse came from being in Vegas together during the Grammys. It was unserious, light – a girlfriend’s weekend. She wanted to play blackjack – but wouldn’t bet over $10. The house had to lower the table to $5!

Mitchell says she wants to deliver lines to her audiences like Marlon Brando did on the big screen. Who would you say is your Brando?

Meryl Streep or Kathy Bates. They understand the potency of one word and hold their ground like nobody else. I watch everything they touch.

In your memoir, Broken Horses, you write about fulfilling your mom’s dream to be a famous singer. Does her energy find its way into your life and art?

A thousand times a day – when I answer the phone, when I sing. There’s a particular twang that comes out, and I hear her. Her voice comes out speaking and singing. And her mother’s voice too.

How has your perspective of your song Church & State, off your latest album, Returning to Myself, changed with the news cycle?

When I wrote it, I was worried about keeping my family together. I married my wife before it was legal, and navigating immigration was terrifying. It gave me a window into what immigrants experience without resources. Now it’s shifted. I feel protective of faith from the state as much as the state from the church. Keeping them separate is make-or-break for the United States.

What conversations are most urgent in your household while raising two daughters?

The plight of displaced people globally. Refugees, asylum seekers, economic migrants – anyone forced from their home out of self-preservation.

You’ve said it’s as important for your daughters to see you in costume performing as it is to see you in sweats on the couch.

They keep trying to choose which one is really mom. I explain to them that both things are really mom. They’d rather have me in a fun shirt and a baseball cap talking about pipe jigs than to have me in Gucci on stage because they don’t have to share, you know, pipe jig mom.

How do you stay independently creative when being online influences us daily?

As soon as the algorithm starts to know me, I get mad and disconnect. I pray a lot. That pulls me into a transcendent place. Reading progressive Christian writers shattered my unconscious biases and ideas about nationalism. It gave me a global, non-Western perspective. That exploration is how I maintain autonomy in this curated time.

After the tour is done, where will you bring the family on vacation?

Fishing season starts mid-April, so I’m off. My phone will say: ‘Welcome to Canada’ because I’ll be right on the border of British Columbia fishing for salmon and halibut with my daughters all spring.

What’s in your fishing bag?

I’m almost always fishing in Canada – right on the Washington–Canada line. That’s where I’m fishing for halibut. So for that I’ll have copper jigs, treble hooks, Shimano Ugly Stik halibut rods, but no bananas. You cannot have bananas on a boat. It’s terrible luck.