In the forthcoming erotic drama “Babygirl,” Nicole Kidman plays a CEO inexorably drawn to the power-play seductions of her intern, played by Harris Dickinson. The film is plenty steamy, but its core is about control — how we exert it, who we surrender it to and how it both limits and expands who we think are.
Sky Ferreira can relate. Her new single “Leash” plays over the film’s closing credits, a grungy and enticing electro-rock single. But the film’s portrayal of the allure and damage wrought when someone wields power over you has echoes in Ferreira’s career.
Last year, the singer finally parted ways with her longtime label, Capitol, after a decade of trying to finish and release a new album, the aptly titled “Masochism,” which would be her first since 2013’s beloved “Night Time, My Time.”
Despite era-defining singles like “Everything Is Embarrassing” and a buzzy film career acting in “Twin Peaks: The Return” and “Baby Driver,” Ferreira has said Capitol didn’t provide resources and wouldn’t release her new music. “I WANT TO PUT THIS OUT” she wrote over a song clip on Instagram. “I am not a hysterical/lying/lazy lunatic. This is beyond f-ed up. I am so frustrated & over it.” (A representative for Capitol declined to comment).
Her label travails even prompted fans to crowdfund a billboard in Times Square pleading to “Free Sky Ferreira.” Her most recent single, 2022’s ‘Don’t Forget,” is unsparing about the situation: “Big dreams, sick dream, used to think God’s inside us all,” she sings. “Keep it in mind, nobody here’s a friend of mine.”
The singer spoke to The Times about writing music for “Babygirl” (out on Christmas day), how she made her peace with a decade of lost music, and if “Masochism” will still be worth the pain in the end.
“Babygirl” feels like a return of the ‘90s-style erotic thriller. What aspects of that power dynamic did you connect with as a songwriter for “Leash?”
I found myself really frustrated with Nicole Kidman’s character, with both of them, with everyone in the film. I tried to think about why I’m reacting that way. When you get frustrated with a film, it’s usually something that you recognize within yourself. I think it was sharing in that kind of chaos, the push and pull between them.
I don’t consider this a love story by any means, and all the sex stuff was kind of secondary. I’m such a fan of Nicole, of “Birth” and “Eyes Wide Shut” and in her performances in those films. She’s just so all over the place, the tension is so anxiety inducing. What I found most provocative in “Babygirl” was the willingness to just ruin everything, and the contradictions and recklessness of the power struggle between them. I think that was kind of what I’ve wanted at times, and that’s what really stuck with me.
You’ve done some horror acting with Eli Roth and were in “Twin Peaks: The Return.” Does that foothold in edgier genre filmmaking offer something unique that complements your music?
Definitely. Obviously, I’m very influenced by David Lynch, my first album was named after something from his films. And a lot of my imagery and music was on the darker side of things. I feel like there’s just so much hand holding with everything [in culture] today, and I’m more interested in the things that are underneath the surface. Not just emotionally, but over the ugly side of things, where there’s a bit of humor too.
I would love to do a full film score if the right thing came to me, like what Aimee Mann did with Paul Thomas Anderson for “Magnolia.” It would give me the structure to totally get in there.
You’re famously perfectionist about your own records. Was it refreshing or daunting to write on someone else’s deadline?
A bit of both. I don’t have a manager and I’m not, like, rolling around in money, and people don’t realize what you need to write for something like that. I’ve never worked that quickly before, but it had to be submitted for a film festival, and it was daunting thinking, ‘Oh my God, people are going to hear this thing, and it’s not even done.’ But I had to let it go, because it was my job.
Were there any lessons there for how to move on, given all the music you’ve tried to make and release since 2013? You’ve put out a few singles like “Don’t Forget,” but you’ve said you’ve recorded nearly 10 albums of shelved material.
I’m never going to have the ideal version of anything I want in my life. But there’s also a thing where I’ll bleed myself dry of it, and it still won’t fade. I’m so precious with music, because once it’s out there, I don’t have any control over what happens to it. And it’s like, ‘Well, if I’m going to do that, I’d rather it just be exactly what I want,’ so I keep pushing for it.
I kind of had to accept that that the position I was put in was not what I wanted at all. I’m still very angry about it, and it definitely affects me. But there’s a point where I kind of had just had to accept it because I can’t buy back 10 years of my time. But at least I could try to make up for it as much as I can by what I make.
Did you ever struggle with being so known for your label challenges and this fractured image of your personal life?
There are a lot of things that are projected on me because I don’t let people know a lot of me. It’s always been projected on my work and it’s literally affected every aspect of my life. There’s this weird thing where some people, it’s like they’re seeing a ghost or something, an idea of me that was very sensationalized, but also very backwards, things that were said that were just crazy and inappropriate. I had to figure out how that affected me more than I thought.
With the billboard, at least, they’re recognizing that I’m actually trapped in this f-ing thing. Like, it’s not just me causing this, my perfectionism or whatever. It sounds crazy but in reality, it’s like, ‘Oh my god, she wants to make something good? How horrible, how insane!”
I can at least say I haven’t quit. I’m willing to humiliate myself quite often to some extent, because the artists that I’ve admired growing up, they’re not easy people usually. They actually lived a life, and not just what is presented as a public life. I wanted something for myself that I know that I did myself, and I’d rather do that and have it take forever and lose everything.
You said Capitol let you go in an email on the 10-year anniversary of “Night Time, My Time.” Do you feel more free now?
Yes and no. I feel free to some extent that I’m off this label, but it’s like when you get out of prison, you have to relearn it all a bit. What did I actually learn from this? What am I stuck with? If I say anything, is everything gonna get pulled out from under me? Or am I too wary and worried about it happening again?
If and when “Masochism” does come out, what will that do to you, to finally part ways with this thing?
I do wonder what it will feel like. Am I going to bleed out of my eyes? Is my brain going to explode and literally burst into flames? But I don’t feel dragged down by it, I don’t feel like, ‘Oh, I wish I’d done this instead.’ It feels like it is a part of me, but I don’t resent it. I resent the circumstances and the people that didn’t allow me to kind of have that natural progression that most artists get to have.
I don’t regret what I’ve done musically. At the end of the day, what you make is what sticks. If it’s true to you, then it’s going to be true to other people. It’s changed so much sonically because my life keeps changing. When I get past the ‘What potentially could have been,’ or ‘What it should have been,’ it’s like, ‘Well, I guess this is what it’s going to be.’
