Written following the birth of her first child, Charlotte Cornfield’s Hurts Like Hell cements her place in the esteemed pantheon of Canadian folk-rock songwriters. Country-tinged and adorned with lovely flashes of steel guitar, these songs brim with clarity and wisdom that comes with stumbling into your mid-thirties, a time where you’re still close enough to your youth to feel intimately connected to it, but far enough away to reflect on your life with a sense of wisdom.
Over twangy guitars and hushed drums, Cornfield probes themes of memory and nostalgia; of finding ragged glory in romantic stability, and the quiet thrills of grown-up love. The result is a rare and special thing, when an album’s sound works in perfect harmony with the emotional content of the songwriting.
“There’s stuff about falling in love, there’s stuff about heartbreak, there’s stuff about childbirth,” she tells The Grind. “It’s all kind of there.”
Here’s my conversation with Cornfield, lightly edited for length and clarity.
Hurts Like Hell is your sixth studio record, but this is your first time landing on the Polaris shortlist. How does it feel to be recognized by the jury at this point in your career?
It’s definitely a huge honour. It means a lot that people who are huge music lovers and music pros and diggers have spent time with the record and have connected with it to this extent. And it’s an amazing shortlist — and longlist — of records.
How would you describe this record to a first-time listener?
From a genre perspective, it’s in the singer-songwriter lane, but slightly more twangy than what I’ve done in the past. It’s definitely inspired by artists like Lucinda Williams and bands like Big Thief. In terms of intention, it’s a record about kind of looking back on your life when you’ve made it to the other side of something; about reassessing human relationships and interactions with a little bit of distance and with a new understanding.
Compared to your previous album, this one also feels more collaborative. The band seems to have a strong chemistry, and it’s got some great features from Feist, Buck Meek and others.
I was really pleasantly surprised by how special it was to have a bunch of people in a room hearing the songs for the first time and then responding to them musically in such a spontaneous way. It was really effective and seemed to serve the intimacy of these songs. There was so much synergy with the band and with Phil Weinrobe, who produced the record. It just felt like liftoff.
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Why do you think the record connected with listeners and Polaris jurors?
I think the way the songs all live together seems to be working and connecting. It’s not a front-to-back story by any means, but all these songs are of a larger piece, and I think it feels cohesive. But it’s also a really warm, feel-good listen that has some really cool surprises, instrumentally. And yeah, there’s a lot of ground covered, lyrically, and people seem to be digging that and relating to it.
There are some very personal songs on here. For example, “Bloody and Alive” is a beautiful song that traces the earliest moments of motherhood. But there are also these great songs that work as sort of short stories and character studies. One of my favourites is “Lost Leader” which tells the story of a burned-out musician holding on to past glories. He’s going to parties with people way younger than him, holding court, then stumbling home drunk and alone. It’s funny, but touching. This feels like a new approach for you.
Totally. I allowed myself a kind of creative license — not needing everything to be directly personal, letting myself take in outside inspiration and make up stories as I go. I had a lot of fun writing “Lost Leader,” which started with literally just the opening line, “You are a lost leader, where’s your band?” And then that story just kind of unraveled in front of my eyes in the moment. Honestly, I had more fun writing this record than any others.
Do you have a favorite track from this album?
The one that seems to pack the most emotional punch for me every time I play it is “Kitchen.” It feels very potent, and it’s always a really emotional experience to play that live.
As you know, I picked that as one of the “greatest Toronto songs of all time” for a Toronto Star list. “You walked into Wise Bar in a raincoat / You were smiling widely when I caught your eye,” is such a wonderfully specific opening line.
I’ve also been having a lot of fun with “Squiddd,” because it’s just a fun arrangement and some simple vocal stuff that’s been really fun to play live.
I love the refrain, “I want to share files with you,” which definitely seems like something a musician would say to another musician they were trying to court.
Yeah that song was about something that very much happened. It’s about my friend and ex from a long time ago, Adam Finchler, who is now a dear friend. Many years ago, I saw him play a show at a loft in Montreal, and he sang that line. And I literally just used it, that’s something I’ve never done before. So I actually made him a co-writer on the song. But yes, it’s about sharing files, sharing music, but it’s also a bit of an innuendo. It was a funny and catchy moment, but it also represented this moment in my life, meeting this person who sparked a thing in me, and I’m happy to have captured it.
If you were a Polaris juror, what album would you champion?
I’m a huge fan of Beverly Glenn-Copeland, and this record with his wife Elizabeth [Laughter In Summer] is really beautiful. The place that these songs are being sung from — again it’s about reflecting, about looking back on life, and cataloguing it, almost like Joni Mitchell’s Travelogue. The arrangements are also so incredible.
Richie Assaly is one of the 200+ music experts who make up the Polaris Prize Jury.
