
Few artists transmute emotional wreckage into art with the precision and self-possession of Alex Haines, whose upcoming EP The Rain on Your Parade unflinchingly exposes the aftermath of pain, self-reclamation, and hard-won catharsis. In conversation with A&R Factory, Alex opens up about learning to process darkness rather than flee from it, turning trauma into melody, and finding freedom in total creative autonomy. Her reflections on the transition from bandmate frustrations to a solo career offer an honest glimpse into an artist who thrives on control, intensity, and authenticity.
Writing music has always been one of the ways I process negative emotions. Running from feelings never makes them go away; repression just forces everything to simmer underneath the surface until it explodes. That’s not healthy. So I prefer to transmute negativity as soon as it arises, through creative expression, rather than shoving it down and saying I’ll deal with it later. And I always feel better afterwards; writing music is a tremendous catharsis. Also, I always feel so proud of myself when I can turn pain into art.
Being a solo artist has always been my goal, actually. I’m a very driven and solitary person, so I work best on my own—I’ve found that most people can’t keep up with me, anyway. That was frustrating when I was in bands because no one took the venture as seriously as I did. Later, though, I saw that not as a letdown, but instead as confirmation that I am meant to work alone because that’s what I do best. It’s made my life a lot easier as well, without having to worry about scheduling rehearsals and studio time with other people. I do everything right here in my living room.
They’re not reworked tracks; they’re the same songs, just including the vocals—which I always write first. Releasing an instrumental album was never something I’d actually planned on doing. The idea only occurred to me when I realized that my instrumentation had become so complex, my songs could stand alone without the vocals. So “The Instrumental Sessions” ended up being an exciting side quest as much as it is a prelude for what’s to come on my future albums, all of which will have vocals. (Also, there’s a sneak peek of the vocals in my pinned Instagram posts! You can view it here.)
As for my track listing on TROYP: all of the songs on that album explore themes of speaking up under difficult circumstances—specifically, confronting abusers and/or acknowledging their effect on my psyche. In the past, trying to advocate for myself often made me feel like the rain on people’s parade, since most aggressors didn’t want to be accountable for their behavior toward me. They often played the victim instead of acknowledging their mistakes. Hence the album title.
These songs are essentially opposite sides of the same coin, in lyrical themes as well as instrumental structure—“Sweet Strawberry” is an anthem that expresses the closure of a dramatic chapter in my life. “Fester (You Make Me Wanna Rot)” is very fast-paced, in order to evoke a sense of restlessness. That song will make you want to get up and dance, in spite of its jarring subject matter. (I have this weird talent for writing very upbeat-sounding songs about the most depressing of topics, and “Fester” is an example of that. I find this darkly humorous.) I wrote “Sweet Strawberry” when I was eighteen and recovering from an older boy’s psychological warfare, and I wrote “Fester” while in the grips of another heartbreak several years later. “Sweet Strawberry” is about reflecting on the toxicity of my quasi-relationship with that boy, after it had ended; while “Fester” is about being in the thick of heartache, drowning in agony and sexual frustration and feeling like I was about to combust.
Teaching myself to write full-band arrangements has been incredibly freeing. I don’t have to depend on other musicians or producers to help me translate what I hear in my head; I just tinker around in Logic and figure everything out for myself. I still write and record vocals and guitars first, but now my audio production process has grown more complex because I have all these MIDI tracks to write as well. And while it’s a lot of work, it’s also a lot of fun.
A lot of my melodies have that steady, mid-paced metal-anthem feel that is present in Kittie’s music. I’m also a huge fan of overlaying screaming vocal tracks over clean singing, which I’ve heard in Kittie and In This Moment songs. I love that sound so much, it gives me the chills. Lastly, I’m a double bass fiend—which is one of the things that draws me to Stone Sour. Their music is as melodic as it is heavy, just like mine. So you may get a Stone Sour vibe from some of my faster songs, in part because of how much I utilize the double bass drum sound.
I feel like music and modeling often go hand-in-hand, especially with playing shows and making music videos, because both are forms of performance art. Modeling is about far more than simply striking a pose, just like being a musician is more than singing and playing instruments in front of a crowd. There’s a certain energy a performer needs to be able to harness in order to become a master at these crafts. I always strive to exude that star power, whether I’m working a modelling job or working a crowd from onstage.
I hope that, after listening to that album, listeners realize how important it is to have healthy boundaries with others, to prioritize their self-respect…and to remember that safe people don’t throw a fit or play the victim when you advocate for your needs. One lyric in the bridge of the album’s title track is “I have the right to exist on my own terms, without you making me feel ashamed.” That’s a sentence we should all remember. Live and let live, and honor people’s autonomy. The world will be a much better place if we treat each other—and ourselves—with kindness and respect.
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Discover Alex Haines on Spotify and connect with the firebrand on Instagram.
Interview by Amelia Vandergast






