amount of time to work on a song I’ve already started, but for the most part I can only begin a new song when nothing’s going on. So after dinner, on plane trips, whenever I could grab some time that felt unlimited, I took advantage of it to work on new songs. Then I went into the studio with some songs written and some that I was still trying to finish.
Prince Charming and I had been together for almost a year at this point, and things were mostly good. So lots of the songs on Meet Miley Cyrus were songs for and about him. I’d call him every night and say, “I wrote you another song!” People might wonder how I could write so many songs about one boy, but I knew I could write him a bajillion songs. Actually, now that I think about it, most of the songs on that album were about Prince Charming.
Don’t get me wrong. The relationship wasn’t perfect. But I think about it a lot like the farm, and how everything is so tranquil there. Yes, there are storms, but even the storms feel natural, like part of what is meant to be. I would always want to let the storms carry me away. On the other hand, sometimes you would rather have endless days of blue skies.
At some point we decided that we needed to take a break. I thought we were going to break up for good. I was so brokenhearted that I wrote “Girls’ Night Out” to make myself smile. But immediately afterward I wrote “Right Here” to play for him as a way of telling him how much I loved him. To tell him: No matter what, I’ll be there for you. No matter where we are in life. And then some of the songs on the album, like “Clear,” are what I think of as “pre-breakup” songs, where I’m imagining what it would be like to break up and how much that would suck, and kind of taking on that emotion.
I went into the recording studio on weekends, squeezing time in whenever I could. I’d work on a song at home, then sit with it a little while to see how it felt, making changes here and there. Before I’d worn it out, I’d take it in and record. Sometimes for art to be really the best it can be, no matter how personal it is, you have to bring in other people to help. If I can trust one person in the world with my music, it’s my producer, Antonina. She is my dream girl, my role model. When I come in with a story and pieces of a song, the two of us can work it into a real song, and I know she’ll never tell anyone where it started, what it meant, and how it evolved. After I recorded my part, the rest of my producers worked on the songs, layering sound effects and instruments. I got versions along the way, hearing each song again and again until they were all how we wanted them.
After three or four months of visits to the studio, there it was—my first album as myself. Well, half of a double CD anyway. Hannah was still carrying me. It was Hannah who made so many copies of the album sell. But whenever I worried that all my success was due to Hannah I was like, wait a minute! I am Hannah! I worked hard to be that character and to make her my own. So Hannah wasn’t carrying me. I was carrying both of us. (If that makes any sense at all!)
O! Say Can You See
T hat spring, I was invited to perform the national anthem at the 2007 Easter Egg Roll—at the White House. The White House! I was definitely excited, but surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. The fear and anxiety that I once felt in auditions and in early performances —it was gone. I grew out of it. I think everyone does at some point. You realize you have one life—and you have to live fully for the moments you have. There can’t be room for nerves.
My mother, my grandmother, my dancers, and I flew to Washington just for the event. It was cold for April, so I borrowed an outfit from one of my dancers, Jen (their outfits are just as blinged-out as mine). Laura Bush (that’s right, folks, the former First Lady) introduced me. And then I sang on the same balcony where the president does his
Prince Charming and I had been together for almost a year at this point, and things were mostly good. So lots of the songs on Meet Miley Cyrus were songs for and about him. I’d call him every night and say, “I wrote you another song!” People might wonder how I could write so many songs about one boy, but I knew I could write him a bajillion songs. Actually, now that I think about it, most of the songs on that album were about Prince Charming.
Don’t get me wrong. The relationship wasn’t perfect. But I think about it a lot like the farm, and how everything is so tranquil there. Yes, there are storms, but even the storms feel natural, like part of what is meant to be. I would always want to let the storms carry me away. On the other hand, sometimes you would rather have endless days of blue skies.
At some point we decided that we needed to take a break. I thought we were going to break up for good. I was so brokenhearted that I wrote “Girls’ Night Out” to make myself smile. But immediately afterward I wrote “Right Here” to play for him as a way of telling him how much I loved him. To tell him: No matter what, I’ll be there for you. No matter where we are in life. And then some of the songs on the album, like “Clear,” are what I think of as “pre-breakup” songs, where I’m imagining what it would be like to break up and how much that would suck, and kind of taking on that emotion.
I went into the recording studio on weekends, squeezing time in whenever I could. I’d work on a song at home, then sit with it a little while to see how it felt, making changes here and there. Before I’d worn it out, I’d take it in and record. Sometimes for art to be really the best it can be, no matter how personal it is, you have to bring in other people to help. If I can trust one person in the world with my music, it’s my producer, Antonina. She is my dream girl, my role model. When I come in with a story and pieces of a song, the two of us can work it into a real song, and I know she’ll never tell anyone where it started, what it meant, and how it evolved. After I recorded my part, the rest of my producers worked on the songs, layering sound effects and instruments. I got versions along the way, hearing each song again and again until they were all how we wanted them.
After three or four months of visits to the studio, there it was—my first album as myself. Well, half of a double CD anyway. Hannah was still carrying me. It was Hannah who made so many copies of the album sell. But whenever I worried that all my success was due to Hannah I was like, wait a minute! I am Hannah! I worked hard to be that character and to make her my own. So Hannah wasn’t carrying me. I was carrying both of us. (If that makes any sense at all!)
O! Say Can You See
T hat spring, I was invited to perform the national anthem at the 2007 Easter Egg Roll—at the White House. The White House! I was definitely excited, but surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous. The fear and anxiety that I once felt in auditions and in early performances —it was gone. I grew out of it. I think everyone does at some point. You realize you have one life—and you have to live fully for the moments you have. There can’t be room for nerves.
My mother, my grandmother, my dancers, and I flew to Washington just for the event. It was cold for April, so I borrowed an outfit from one of my dancers, Jen (their outfits are just as blinged-out as mine). Laura Bush (that’s right, folks, the former First Lady) introduced me. And then I sang on the same balcony where the president does his
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