Linda Perry wears many hats, both literally and figuratively, but she never expected anybody to make a film about her. A few years ago, when the singer, songwriter and producer agreed to let her friend Don Hardy follow her around with a camera, she thought she might get a few good clips out of it for social media. “I swear to fucking God,” says Perry in her melodious California drawl. “I would never, ever, go: ‘Hey, let’s make a documentary about my life.’”
That was before she found herself undergoing a double mastectomy after a chance cancer diagnosis, while simultaneously confronting her difficult relationship with her dying mother. She was also fretting that she’d lost the ability to write for herself. “I had a breakdown, and the fucking camera was there for it,” the 61-year-old tells me over the phone from her home in Los Angeles. “I can’t even fucking believe I’ve allowed this to come out.”
The resulting film, Let It Die Here, is a raw, intimate portrait of a singular musician. Best known for her vocal pyrotechnics on “What’s Up?”, the world-conquering 1993 single she wrote and sang for the band 4 Non Blondes, Perry went on to become one of the most sought-after writer-producers of the 2000s thanks to a string of hits – among them Pink’s “Get the Party Started”, Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful”, and Gwen Stefani’s “What You Waiting For?”.
Perry has a talent for understanding what makes an artist tick. She can help pop singers find an edge, and polished stars to bare their souls. Over the decades, she has helped draw songs out of the likes of Dolly Parton, Kate Hudson and Adele, becoming one of only six women ever to be nominated for Best Production (Non-Classical) in the history of the Grammys. Tongue-in-cheek, she credits at least part of her success to her impressive array of headgear.
“The hats feel like armour to me, they feel protective,” she explains. “I do think it helps me, because I’m an emotional person, and I feel a lot. I’m an empath – that’s why people like working with me.” It only takes a few moments in conversation with Perry to realise she’s not big on small talk. She has the sort of no-nonsense, let’s-get-down-to-brass-tacks personality that cuts through vague pleasantries. She is not, she makes clear, a producer who gets hired to make generic pop. “I’m not studying how to write a hit,” she continues. “I’m not ripping off other people’s melodies and listening to BPMs. People come to me for emotion.”
Kevin EG Perry: Collected Works 