The end result? Six slick, stylish, and deliciously moody tracks that explore the shadowy corners of desire, fame, and sexuality. There’s the wildly catchy opener “Harder to Reach Than God,” on which she delivers a winking come-on to a lover, and the eerie, noirish “Scream,” on which she sweetly sings about having a “superstar” locked in the trunk of her car. A particular highlight is the scuzzy, electric guitar-led “Forever,” with its lyrics charting a dangerous romance—mysterious snippets of which feel like they’re being glimpsed through the shimmer of a hot, hazy day in Los Angeles—over swirling synths and a hyperactive, distorted beat. (“If you fucked me forever / in your denim and leather,” she sings, with a gentle growl. “If you fucked me forever / don’t you think I’d feel better?”)
The EP has quiet echoes of other artists who have both romanticized and subverted the clichés of California life—Courtney Love and Lana Del Rey both spring to mind—but Avalon’s melting pot of sonic influences is altogether her own, with traces of grunge, ’00s indie, and synth-pop all whizzed up into a silky, seductive package. Like most artists of her generation, however, Avalon doesn’t worry about genre all that much. “When I think about genre, I don’t necessarily think of a sound, but more about the subcultures they sprang from,” she says. “I think we’re now living in a sort of post-subculture world because of the internet, and a lot of artists aren’t really conforming to genre. I suppose I was really inspired by some of my contemporaries that just make music from the heart, as corny or trite as that might sound. I think that’s the most important thing. I don’t think about genre so much as I think about honesty.”
Photo: Gaylord Studios
Photo: Gaylord Studios
This fluid approach to making music can be chalked up, at least in part, to Avalon’s upbringing. She notes that her parents had her when they were 18 and 20, and when she was growing up in Santa Ana, they’d often take her to gigs, where she absorbed an eclectic range of sounds—new wave, post-punk, electroclash. By the time she was a teenager, she was already performing in punk bands. (She even co-founded the very first Death Grips fan club with her friend Jarrod.) Before long though, she wanted to strike out on her own. “I’m a control freak,” she says with a laugh. “I always knew that I needed to have full autonomy over the work and every aspect of the music I was making.”
As a first-generation Chicana, equally central to her artistic identity is her Mexican heritage. “I think the Chicano community is one of the driving forces of alternative and post-punk and goth music,” she says. “A lot of those artists have been held up by Chicanos: Morrissey and the Smiths, the Cure, Depeche Mode. These are all bands that my uncles listen to. Even though they’re from England, for some reason, their music just resonated with us—I think because it’s so dramatic, it reminds us of Vicente [Fernández] or Luis Miguel. It’s so passionate and romantic. I suppose that’s how I feel about life too.”