Gavin Turek: On world travels, the power of dance and trying to figure herself out

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Gavin Turek at Club Bahia, December 2014 (Photo by Michelle Shiers)
Gavin Turek at Club Bahia, December 2014 (Photo by Michelle Shiers)

Gavin Turek has been turning frowns upside down ever since she stepped onstage. Her siren vocals, lithe dance moves and keen sense of style have made her a dance-pop It Girl, but the 28-year-old native of Southern California says she is still a work in progress.

This year has seen two aesthetically different releases from Turek. There’s the straight-up disco of “Frontline” (b/w “Don’t Fight It” and followed by the inevitable EP of remixes), released via IHEARTCOMIX’s new IHC1NFINITY label. And there’s “You’re Invited,” the mini-album of futuristic electro R&B she made with experimental producer TOKiMONSTA. That relationship goes back to 2011, when Turek contributed to Toki’s EP on Brainfeeder.

Turek has a host of other collaborations; she’s opened for (and performed with) Mayer Hawthorne; and she’s been labeled, in various media, as a “new disco queen” and “disco-pop princess.” While there’s little doubt she’s regal onstage, those labels could very well turn out to be reductive. Turek is working on a solo release and, she acknowledges, “I’m still trying to figure myself out.”

On Saturday, she headlines Tarfest at the La Brea Pits Park, where, she said over coffee in Echo Park on a recent afternoon, she’ll perform some new songs. And dance.

For lack of a better place, let’s start at the beginning. You grew up in the Valley?

I say the Valley, but technically I grew up in Agua Dulce, in the middle of nowhere. Middle. Of. Nowhere. Off a dirt road. Our house sits on an acre carved out of a mountain of rocks.

I know the area. You grew up on the set of a Western movie, then.

Basically. It’s sad that no one knows where it is or what’s up there. It’s beautiful up there. … I commuted two hours to go to high school at LACHSA — L.A. County High School for the Arts. Two hours there, two hours back.

How did you spend the commute?

On the train … sleeping, reading, talking. There was a group of five or six of us that commuted from the Santa Clarita area. You’d have to wake up at 4, leave the house at 5, catch the train at 5:30. Then we’d get to Union Station at 7:15 and take a bus up to Cal State.

That sounds like the stories old people tell of having to walk 5 miles to school in the snow.

[Laughing] Exactly. I had a lot of time to contemplate my angst-y teen years. Some mornings I’d have a really hard time because I was so tired. I’d go to bed at 12 and wake up at 4, so I was emotional a lot. … But it was worth it. I was a dance major.

Your mother’s an actress and a singer — were you pushed into being a performer?

My mom encouraged all of us to try it. And I mostly enjoyed it. I acted for many years as a kid. But I got so worn down by the rejection that young. I would go out on auditions all the time, and get really close and not get the part. It’s hard to not take that personally when you’re young. When I went to college, I needed a break from all that. I really thought that being a dancer was going to be my path. That’s why I devoted so much of my energy to that. But music was always there too because of my family. My mom would sing at coffeehouses every Sunday, and she’d practice every day. She was so diligent with that. It was always there if I wanted to tap into it, but mostly it was all about dance for me.

What was the aha moment that made you turn to music then?

When I was in college I was taking a break from dance and acting. I just started writing more — I bought a laptop with acting money and started writing and producing songs on GarageBand, because I didn’t know how to play anything. I knew what I wanted in my mind so I fiddled with making the right sounds. My sister [Hana] heard it, and she said, “Gavin this is good. You should put it up on MySpace.” I think the world of my sister, and she’s always has the best taste in music. She’s also the kind of person who projects people’s success long before they have it. She’s kind of a tastemaker. When she started encouraging me, I thought, “Maybe I should give this a shot.” She was the one who actually put it up for me. She’s a photographer and kind of curated the look of this MySpace page. I had three demos up and started meeting people through it.

What were you studying then?

I created my own major, and I loved it. They told me I could study abroad for a year, so that was that. I created the major around the countries I wanted to visit — Ghana and India, so I could study dance, music and religion.

From Agua Dulce to India — that’s quite a transition. Did you have any revelations when you were there?

Sure, that’s inevitable. India, especially. I’d never seen that degree of … everything. Especially the poverty. I was teaching dance to street kids. You realize how blessed you are, and how you can be happy regardless of your circumstances. I met genuinely happy people who had nothing. I think that was the biggest lesson, and it was a very world-rocking experience. Challenging in a beautiful way. India was just so hauntingly wonderful.

Gavin Turek

“When I came back from Ghana, my movements were affected — how I express myself onstage. The use of music and dance is so much grander there than here. … Ghana changed who I became onstage.” — Gavin Turek (Photo by Michelle Shiers)

In what ways have all those travels influenced what you write?

Well, I wrote a ton while I was in Ghana and India. It completely opened my mind. Specifically in Ghana — I’d taken West African dance in college, but I’d never been exposed to the ritual that goes along with it. One of my first days there we went to a funeral, and it was purely a celebration of a life. The music was invigorating, and you experienced a whole range of emotions at the same time. It made me fall in love with it even more. And when I came back from Ghana, my movements were affected — how I express myself onstage. The use of music and dance is so much grander there than here. It’s more than entertainment, it’s ingrained in their culture. Ghana changed who I became onstage.

You are a bundle of energy onstage. I don’t know about anybody else, but it makes me tired just to watch …

[Laughing] I don’t know what to say to that. Maybe somebody you’ll join me.

You don’t want to see this old dude dance, rest assured.

[Still laughing] You never know.

Back to the music. You’ve now worked with a bunch of people. For a lot of singers who rely a lot on collaborations, listeners don’t always get a sense of who they really are. You hear a perfectly crafted song, with all its production and its mostly predictable lyrics, and then you see seven co-writers on it.

That’s the pop world.

How does one in today’s world project some sense of authenticity? How are people going to see the real Gavin?

I’m still trying to figure that out. I’m still trying to figure myself out. The people in the pop world whom I admire and love were able to create insanely infectious songs that sounded like theirs. They were able to make real connections. And the only way you’re gonna emotionally connect to a song is if the person on the other side is telling the truth.

Can anyone really tell these days? Things are so well-crafted and so contrived. People are selling a media persona.

I agree. It’s easy to disbelieve. And people still go for certain music even knowing how many cooks were in the kitchen. It’s a big personal struggle for me. As somebody who writes every word of my songs, I take a lot of pride in making everything right. It’s really easy to go onto autopilot and make something that works, just for the sake of making something. I’ve put out stuff that I know is disconnected, but it still gets put out because it sounds good. That’s just being honest with you right now. But my ultimate goal with what I’m working on right now is to make music that really connects.

It’s hard to do that. I think growing up L.A., and being in acting and entertainment, I’m so used to putting on different personas all the time. A lot of people are. You develop that kind of mindset from when you’re very young, and it seeps into every facet of your life. So now I’ve chosen my career: I’m a songwriter and a performer. Hopefully the real me will come with age. As you grow, you get to know yourself. And I’m just happy that some people want to take the journey with me, and see the trial and error. It’s all apparent, I think. There’s not much you can hide these days.

One of your assets is that no matter what kind of music you’re doing, you are a very good entertainer.

That’s the part of what I do that feels most connected. When I’m onstage, I feel the most vulnerable and centered emotionally.

There are no second takes onstage, no do-overs.

No. But it’s interesting too, the songs that I’ve written that have gotten the most positive reaction are songs that without a doubt were just me, in my room, at a very emotional and vulnerable time.

Does that include the “You’re Invited” album?

I think my approach on that album was very honest. Working with Toki, I didn’t have to think about crafting the perfect song. But actually the songs that I’m proudest of are “Little Pleasures” and “Darkest (Dim),” the older Toki songs. When I recorded them, it was in my room, straight to my computer, and those were the final vocals. I think now that the vocals are awful. I didn’t think that would be the final take. But people react to them. Despite the disco image I have going on and what I do onstage — which is great and is definitely a part of me — people always go back to those songs. It’s not something I could go back an replicate, but I know I was being honest and hopefully I can be as honest with whatever I do next.

And what are you doing next?

My next release will be a mini-album of my own. I have a lot in my arsenal. But a lot will address this [writer/performer] duality. I’m working with a lot of different people right now, and I feel like the new songs are a good representation of myself.

||| Stream: “You’re Invited”

||| Stream: “Frontline” and “Don’t Fight It”