photo: ted eytan · cc by-sa 2.0 ↗Alessia Cara turned Mississauga bedroom YouTube covers into a smoky-voiced, Grammy-winning strain of confessional pop, breaking through in 2015 with the wallflower's-eye-view single 'Here' and the global body-positivity anthem 'Scars to Your Beautiful.' Her writing pairs hip-hop-cadenced verses with soul-singer phrasing, a lineage she traces back to the raw, unpolished honesty of Amy Winehouse and Lauryn Hill and, more recently, to the live-band, Laurel Canyon-indebted songcraft of 2025's Love & Hyperbole. She won the Grammy for Best New Artist in 2018 and has kept the diaristic vulnerability that got her there.
Cara has called Winehouse 'the reason I started writing music in the first place' — seeing the 'Rehab' video at age ten showed her a woman who looked and sang unlike anyone else on the radio, unpolished and utterly herself, which shaped Cara's own conversational, un-oversung vocal delivery. The link became literal on 2021's 'Shapeshifter,' written in the same studio with Salaam Remi — Winehouse's own Back to Black producer — an experience Cara has described as writing 'from a place of thinking of the way that she would have done it.'
listen forListen for the unforced, slightly-behind-the-beat phrasing and the way both singers let a rasp or crack sit in the mix instead of smoothing it out — the same conversational, barely-trying cool that made 'Rehab' feel like eavesdropping carries into the sway and restraint of 'Shapeshifter.'
Cara says she's 'listened to the Fugees and Lauryn Hill for as long as I can remember,' crediting Hill's rap-singing hybrid with shaping her own instinct for cramming rhythmic, conversational runs of words into a bar rather than singing everything straight. That flow is most audible on breakout single 'Here,' whose talk-sung verses narrate a party from the sidelines in a cadence closer to hip-hop storytelling than pop balladry.
listen forCompare the tumbling, syncopated verse delivery on Hill's 'Doo Wop (That Thing)' — packing extra syllables into the pocket without losing the groove — to the wry, rapid-fire verses of 'Here,' where Cara narrates the room around her in almost the same speak-sing cadence.
For 2025's Love & Hyperbole, Cara has said she dug into the '60s and '70s records she loves — Joni Mitchell and Fleetwood Mac chief among them — chasing a freer, more live-sounding feel after three albums of glossier pop-R&B production. Reviewers heard that lineage land most directly on 'Subside,' whose hushed verses and swelling string arrangements were tied explicitly to Mitchell's (and Billy Joel's) influence on the record.
listen forListen for how both songs let the voice sit nearly bare over open space before strings gradually swell underneath it — the hushed-confession-into-orchestral-swell arc that recalls Mitchell's early ballads like 'Both Sides Now' rather than the compressed, beat-forward pop of Cara's earlier records.