That Eric Alper

Music history is littered with stories of “what if” and “someday,” but every so often, an artist decides to stop waiting for the stars to align and starts carving out their own constellation. In an era of hyper-compressed digital singles, Carla Muller is doing something refreshingly traditional: she’s telling stories that actually need the time they take. Her new single, “Hold The Door” from the album In Between out today, is a piece of a larger, lived-in puzzle that connects the dots between mid-century romance and the frantic pace of the modern world.

Carla Muller’s path to the Toronto recording scene wasn’t a straight line. Based in Woolwich, Ontario, Muller spent years balancing family life with a “life-long dream to share my music with the world”. It wasn’t until 2020 that she began recording at the legendary Canterbury Music Company, working alongside veteran engineers like Jeremy Darby and Julian Decorte. Her evolution from writing lullabies for her children to collaborating with heavyweights like Jason Fowler and Mark Lalama speaks to a late-blooming creative “floodgate” that, once opened, couldn’t be closed. As Muller puts it, “I write from my heart, for the people I love, and for myself—past and present”. She has surrounded herself with a rotating cast of Canada’s finest session players—names like Nathan Hiltz, Ross MacIntyre, and Gary Craig—to bring a sophisticated folk sensibility to her biographical tales.

“Hold The Door” is a masterclass in narrative songwriting, co-written with Scott Metcalfe. The track captures the lightning-bolt moment her parents met sixty years ago—a story involving borrowed heels, a wing-tipped automobile, and a dash of 1960s chivalry. Musically, the track is anchored by Metcalfe’s piano and colored with the rustic textures of Chris Quinn’s banjo and Drew Jurecka’s violin, creating a sound that feels both nostalgic and immediate. Lyrically, the song moves from the literal to the metaphorical, using the “door” as a symbol for life’s transitions, featuring poignant lines such as: “The day they first met he drove her home / In her pretty bright blue dress and borrowed heels” and “The wolf’s done kicked it in, so let’s all dance across the floor / ‘Cause we can’t hold the door anymore”.

The inspiration for “Hold The Door” came from observing her parents’ six-decade marriage. Muller reflects on the serendipity of their meeting, noting how her father saw her mother from across the room and was immediately smitten. For Muller, the song is about a “life well-lived” and the realization that while we try to control our circumstances, sometimes the most beautiful moments happen when we finally stop trying to hold the door against the inevitable changes of time.

One thing Carla doesn’t do right now is tour. With an assurance that comes from time and lessons learned, she says, “I would be giving up the very thing I’m always writing about – family, friends and home if I did that. No, I work from home and from Toronto, staying at The Drake, my favourite home away from home. Home is where the magic happens – that’s where the stories flow from. I also need to stay close to my parents, family and my new grandson. I don’t want to miss a single moment.”  Following the January 23rd release, Carla Muller is expected to make several promotional appearances to support the new albums, In Between, which will launch January 23rd. Notably, Muller continues her philanthropic commitment, with 50% of proceeds from the sales and streams of the track “We’ll Be Alright” directly benefitting the Food Bank of Waterloo Region. All CD and vinyl sales of In Between will also send 25% of her proceeds to FBWR.

“Hold The Door” serves as a vital bridge in Muller’s career, moving from the folk-leaning roots of her early collaborations in Erin, Ontario, toward the polished, collaborative sound of her latest work. It anchors her upcoming album, In Between, positioning her as a songwriter who can translate private family history into a universal language of resilience. In a world that often feels like “nothing would ever be the same again,” Muller’s music argues that as long as we have these stories, we’ll be ok.