GG Magree

Like some kind of glittering love witch, GG Magree conjures sex and death to create lyrical alchemy — with a hefty helping of joyful sleaze. Whether it be her one-on-one convos with the spirit world, or a new film in which she cosplays as a cannibal stripper, the electro-punk-loving Aussie is channeling it all on her first full-length LP, Spit Love, out late October on BMG/Rise.

“This album is everything they told me not to be,” she says. “But it isn’t just about me; it’s about rewriting the narrative for every woman, every queer person, every soul who’s ever been told they’re too much. So love yourself — hard. Own your story. And let the world choke on it.”

Magree grew up in the heart of the Australian club scene; her dad owns one of the most historic gay clubs in the country, and she was celebrating birthdays there well before it was legal. She started throwing her own raves as a teen, learning to DJ at 17 and befriending the late Ajax, a key inspiration. “It was the birth of the punk-electro scene — and that's when I first started falling in love with music,” she says. “Electro was a very hardcore type of music, but it was also very slutty and fun and sweaty and ravey. I was like, ‘Oh my God. This is what I want to do for the rest of my life.’”

Rubbing elbows with the likes of Steve Aoki, the Bloody Beetroots, and scene photographer the Cobrasnake (she was his muse), Magree went from collaborating with EDM legends Zeds Dead (they dropped “Frontlines” with NGHTMRE in 2016), to taking up residence in L.A. and trying her hand at writing and producing. She’s also a self-professed medium, and has had her share of conversations with the other side. “I've always been able to somewhat speak to the dead,” Magree says. “I’m a vessel.”

Although no spirits directly worked with her on Spit Love, the album — recorded with collaborator Duncan Murray in L.A. — does have supernatural roots. She wrote most of the songs after shooting a short film about a cannibal stripper from Long Island — spoiler, it ends with her chomping down on a heart of mysterious origins. “Growing up around strip clubs, I’m passionate about bringing awareness to how beautiful that kind of dancing can be — a midnight ballet,” she says. It just so happened that the music she wrote for the LP matched the movie perfectly: sexy, dangerous, and electric. The short, like the album, will be out late October.

The album kicks off sultry and sweaty, with “Sex,” an ode to being yourself in a world that often villainizes and tamps down sexuality. “It’s about being yourself, whether it’s dressing sexy or masculine,” Magree says. “If someone doesn’t like it, they can fuck off.” And then there’s the toothy, delicious “Bleed,” which she wrote about a pole dancing class — and a romp with a boy she liked. “I wanted to make something that embodied how I was feeling internally, and that was extremely hungry for love,” she says. The title track, “Spit Love,” slinks in next — bold and sexy. “It’s when you're looking at a guy from across the room, and you're kind of luring him into your zone,” she says. “Like a siren.”

“Delicious Loyalty” is both a butterfly and a battle cry, a beacon of belonging for Magree’s fans of all ages, races, genders, and identities. “If you are a part of my world, I want you to feel as free as I do,” she says. Things get rowdy, though, on “Run,” reminiscent of that German flick with “Lola” in the title. “It’s about my love of Black Widows, and what they do to their mates,” Magree says. “If a guy fucks me over and takes my kindness for weakness, they should be very fucking afraid.” And then there’s the slinky “Siren,” which is about “using a woman's power to pretty much get a man to do whatever they want.” “2 Hot 2 Handle” crashes in next, “a love story where a girl is telling the guy, ‘Be careful,’” Magree says. “‘I'm fucking hot. I'm spicy,’ and the guy kind of has a breakdown over it.”

“Wet Dreams” is pure horny fun, about DJing a sex rave — which Magree has done multiple times. “It's so sexy, and everyone's just being themselves,” she says. And then things get more mellow on the electro-ballad “It’s a Shame I’m Not Over You.” That’s about “when you fall for someone that is actually good for you, and you're trying to fuck it up,” Magree says. The dukes go back up with the hardcore-tinged “Dare You,” though. “I feel like I've been in so many relationships where I get into them and the guys are like, ‘I love how sexual you are. I love how free you are, how empowering you are,’” she says. “‘I dare you to accept that once you finally have me.’”

In the end, though, Magree strips away all the bravado, laying her soul bare with the gorgeous, fluid “Forever,” about her grandmother’s tragic death — and the fact that both she and the matriarch were in abusive relationships. “The world can be a dark place and the people you surround yourself with really outline who you become as a person,” she says. “After she was taken, I slipped into relationships that mirrored that same violence, emotional, physical, spiritual abuse that left me hollow. And while I was trying to crawl out of that darkness, the world around me had the audacity to tell me to quiet down.” She explores that idea, too, on pitch-black album closer, “Nightmares.” “I'm a very bubbly medicine, so when darkness sees that, it likes to cling to it,” she says.

Still, GG Magree wasn’t made to languish in the doldrums — even if she grooves in the darkness. “My mission is to hold space for women, queer people and every soul who’s ever been told they’re too sexy, too loud, too wild and to stop taking up space,” she says. “I feel like I was put on the planet to shatter the shame around female rage and sexual freedom. A voice for the hyper-sexualized, abused and underestimated. For the woman told to ‘calm down’ and the queer kids told to ‘cover up.’ I make art that bleeds, screams, seduces and liberates. I don’t make music to be liked — I make it to be free.”