With Can We Talk, Elijah Woods steps into his debut album not with answers, but with questions. The project distills months of writing, 150 songs’ worth,  into 11 tracks that orbit around emotional truth and human connection. It’s a warm, quietly intense album, shaped by self-forgiveness, late-night introspection, and the realization that growth doesn’t arrive in a single moment, but in every messy attempt that leads up to it.

“Can We Talk” feels like a defining chapter in your story. What does this debut album represent for you personally and artistically?

I set out to write something that perpetually inspired me through the process. It took me a long time to get there because it’s a lot of introspection and a lot of self-doubt and battling with friendships and relationships. I think through that I found a sense of maturity and maybe forgiveness for myself for making mistakes. I found a lot more sense of play with this album and like a lot more fun making it than I have maybe some other projects without the pressure. I made this very much for me to process a bunch of things. I’ve never made a full-length album before, and it’s a weighty task to come up with 11 songs that carry a concept.

 How many songs did you start with?

I wrote about 150 for this project. It was just trial and error, and I think that was part of the play. I love writing music; that’s my happy place in the studio. Writing the music and then narrowing it down was tough because if the song doesn’t speak to the same through line, then you’re kind of just like misplacing songs throughout the track list.

 How do you decide what makes the album?

I think for me, there was like five songs that I absolutely needed to be on there. As soon as I wrote them, I was like, “Oh, this is the through line, this is the thing.” I eventually like let the initial title track, “My Ego,” go and found this concept of like deep human conversations. That felt like a more present concept to me. My favorite songs are the ones that ask a question, and you can insert yourself into that.

The song “Cutting the Grass” is song number five. What is the lyric wrapped up into that track?

The lyric that is wrapped up into is, “Am I cutting the grass to watch it grow?”. It’s this idea of, “Am I just doing this to do it again tomorrow?” And I realized through writing that song, the beauty in all of this is that you’re able to do it, not what you’re doing necessarily. I found a lot of identity in that.

The lead single “Ghost on the Radio” has a hauntingly nostalgic energy. What inspired that song and what does it mean to you?

It was one of my good friends, Michael Matozik, who came up with that concept. A lot of the songs that I’ve written end up on the radio, which is incredible. And for me, what that song means is like, every time I hear that song on the radio, I think of that specific person or that specific memory, and it’s kind of haunting. For me, it’s very specific, but I think that’s like a pretty universal feeling.

 How do you channel real emotion into the pop production without losing authenticity?

I think I treat it as two separate things. I had the privilege of working with Ryan Tedder early on in my career, and he always said this thing: “If the song is good, you can put any bow on it.”. I try to approach songs in that way. It’s very song first, very lyric first, and if that lyric can move you without any additional stuff, it’s generally a pretty good song.

How does Can We Talk differ from your earlier EPs?

I think earlier it was a question if if I can make something, and now it’s a question of why am I making something. I wanted it to be music you could cook to and like listen to passively. I wanted these songs to feel as personal as that, but as casual as, “Oh, I can throw that song in the background and listen to it”. I think of albums like Continuum by John Mayer as a great reference.

You’ve built a massive international following. What’s it been like connecting with fans around the world?

Pretty surreal. I didn’t sing until I was [in] 2020, when I like taught myself how to sing, so this was not in the cards for me growing up. Being able to travel internationally and meet so many people through music is just, it’s insane. You go to a place like Indonesia, where they don’t speak English very well, and these songs just transcend language. It’s out of comprehension for me, and I’m just grateful.

 How do fans in different countries connect with your music?

I feel like the best example of that might be the live experience. If you compare Toronto to somewhere like Montreal, there’s very different energies. Toronto is standing there and soaking in the music, but Montreal fans are screaming their heads off the whole time. In Asia, Manila fans will scream at the top of their lungs and know lyric seven from verse two. Japanese fans will sing all the words at an appropriate volume, and then the song will end and they go dead quiet. You realize they just want to hear what you have to say.

You’ve built a world that’s both musically and visually cohesive. How intentional was that creative vision?

 I think it’s all pretty intentional. Ultimately, I think it’s just a reflection of you at the end of the day. Here’s an opportunity to show what’s inside of you on a visual scale, and I get to do that audio-wise and then visually on social media through art. I really enjoy that part of it.

Looking ahead, what’s one thing you want to achieve?

Being really present. It’s been a wild few years for me. I wrote a lot of this music beginning of this year, and for me to sit on music and like wait was really, really tough. Now that it’s out, I really want to focus on how people are feeling about it and how I’m feeling about it. I have to remember that this is the first time that people are hearing this stuff.

If you could give yourself any piece of advice when looking back to your younger self, what would it be?

Own your master recordings, no matter what. I’m serious. If you can make your own stuff, if you can distribute your own stuff, which you absolutely can now, given the tools in 2025… you should. If you can own your master recordings and eventually own your publishing, it’s a huge asset. You have a lot of control, and you’re protecting yourself. You’re not signing bad contracts. Just own as much as you can of this.