What happens when a queer folk poet trades melancholia for swagger—and writes a love song to herself? You get Hedonist—Gemma Laurence’s boldest, grittiest track to date. Unapologetically sultry, tinged with twang, and bursting with #SelfishGirlSummer energy, it marks a thrilling sonic pivot for the Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter. In this exclusive interview, Gemma opens up about reclaiming desire, co-choreographing her own cowboy-noir cabaret, and finding softness in a world that too often demands suffering. From line dancing in NYC to crafting her upcoming album, We Were Bodies Underwater, this is a story of liberation, transformation, and one hell of a pair of cowboy boots.

Nicolle: “Hedonist” feels like such a bold, empowered pivot—what inspired you to embrace this grittier, sexier sonic direction after your Sapphic folk roots?

Gemma: Honestly? I’ve written many sad folky songs and wanted to try something different. This whole record has more of an edge than my previous stuff. I think partially it’s the content of the album (which is darker than what I’ve written about in the past), it’s partially the music I’m consuming (Wednesday, Indigo de Souza, Big Thief, Ethel Cain, Lucy Dacus - slightly more alt rock-leaning stuff), and it’s also just the way I’m writing these days (for a full band, as opposed to solo). It felt good to lean into a new sound, try something new, and make something I’d listen to on repeat.

Nicolle: You’ve described “Hedonist” as a song about falling back in love with yourself. Was there a specific moment post-breakup that sparked this reclamation of desire and self-worth?

Gemma: Oh yeah, I feel like everyone has that moment where suddenly you remember who you are after a breakup – how amazing you are outside of someone else’s perception of you. Part of the reason we get into relationships is because we want to feel seen and desired. So what happens when you no longer feel that way around the person you’re with? I wrote “Hedonist” after being freed from that situation. I realised that I didn’t need another person to validate me or remind me of my worth. Suddenly, I could do whatever I liked, and just for me.

Nicolle: The music video is absolutely electric—how did the concept evolve into this “Twin Peaks-meets-cowboy noir burlesque” world? And what was it like co-choreographing your own line dance for it?

Gemma: Wow, thank you so much! I had so much fun creating this music video with my dear friend Sophia Alaniz. The song is all about giving in to your desires, so we wanted to build this stylised, heightened world of decadence and abundance. Twin Peaks was a big reference; I’m obsessed with David Lynch. I wanted to create my own One Eyed Jacks-esque liminal cabaret space that centered queer female sexuality, but through the female gaze. I’ve been involved in the queer line dancing scene in NYC for a while now and it felt like such an obvious choice – like why not put queer line dancing (something which makes me feel so euphoric and joyful) against a backdrop that’s just sexy and cool and stylish as hell?

It was so fun co-choreographing the dance with Julia Wortman, a fellow line dancer. She’s such a powerhouse and so inventive. The whole process felt really collaborative and fun. I’m so used to writing songs, but I hadn’t choreographed a dance in years. It felt really good to return to something I love and also push myself outside of my comfort zone a bit.

Nicolle: There’s something magnetic about the way you take up space in the video. How did it feel to physically embody the themes of indulgence and liberation on camera?

Gemma: Thank you so much. It felt amazing and also kind of foreign to me. My body was like, wait, okay, so you’re allowed to take up as much space as you want? You’re allowed to be as sexy and loud and insane as you can be? And people want to see that? I think if you think about anything too hard, you’ll feel self-conscious, so I just threw myself into it. It felt really really good.

We filmed the video at one of my favourite music venues in the city (Purgatory), and everyone on set was so supportive. Plus, it’s easy to feel confident and indulgent and free when you’re line dancing in your favourite cowboy boots and everybody is cheering you on.

Nicolle: You’ve spoken about working with an all-queer femme cast and crew—why was that so essential for this particular project, and what was the energy like on set?

Gemma: The song is so much about reclaiming your power, taking back what’s yours, refusing to shrink or minimise your needs. It was really important to me to work with a predominantly queer femme cast and crew for that reason. The film (and music) industries are so dominated by men in powerful positions. It’s time to take back that space, even if it’s just one gay cowboy music video!

Nicolle: From the look of the video to the sultry alt-rock energy, “Hedonist” screams #SelfishGirlSummer. What does that phrase mean to you right now, and how are you personally living it out?

Gemma: You know when Kim Cattrall said, “I don’t want to be in a situation for even an hour where I’m not enjoying myself”? Honestly, that. If something feels good, I pursue it. If it doesn’t feel good, I stop doing it. Intuition is strong. Things get a lot simpler when you follow them.

Nicolle: Your upcoming album, ‘We Were Bodies Underwater’, explores love, trauma, and memory. How does “Hedonist” fit into the emotional arc of that story?

Gemma: “Hedonist” does feel like a kind of an outlier on an album, which is so much about reckoning with trauma. The album is so deeply rooted in the past, and Hedonist is extremely, unabashedly present. I like that, though. It was the last song I wrote on the album, and it feels like a launchpad into my next era. If the rest of the album is about learning how to love somebody else, ‘Hedonist’ is about learning how to love myself better. These things go hand in hand, I think.

Nicolle: You blend folk, rock, and poetry in a way that feels entirely your own. What does your songwriting process look like these days—has it changed since ‘Lavender’?

Gemma: Yeah, I used to write all my songs solo, and now I’m writing them for a full band. I think that changes the game. They’re still my own songs, but there’s a lot of personality in each song. You can hear my guitarist Fran’s emo/alt rock background in the feedback that lingers beneath “Bloodlines.”

You can hear Aída's bluesy background in the enormous guitar solo she rips at the end of “Hedonist” (and by the way, that whole solo was improvised on the spot. She did it in like two takes). You can hear my drummer Jojo’s jazz background in the drums, which have such a nice swing to them. I was writing these songs with my bandmates in mind and left space for them to experiment and improvise. There was a lot of studio magic that happened when we were recording these tracks – stuff that I couldn’t predict. I think that alone gives this album a different flavour.

Nicolle: You mention being influenced by David Lynch—what other films, artists, or aesthetics are shaping this album cycle for you?

Gemma: The album is so much about grief, resilience, memory, and desire. Some books I read while writing this album that really resonated with me were Ocean Vuong’s On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Maggie Nelson’s Bluets, Joan Didion’s Year of Magical Thinking, James Baldwin’s Giovanni’s Room, Adrienne Rich’s Diving Into The Wreck, Barbara Kingsolver’s Demon Copperhead, Patti Smith’s Just Kids, Joy Harjo’s She Had Some Horses, Ada Limòn’s The Carrying, André Aciman’s Homo Irrealis. For films: Aftersun, Past Lives, the Before Sunrise trilogy, All Of Us Strangers, Fire Walk With Me, The Florida Project, Call Me By Your Name. For albums: Hurray For The Riff Raff’s The Past is Still Alive, Adrianne Lenker’s Real House, Katy Kirby’s Cool Dry Place, Gregory Alan Isakov’s The Weatherman, Phoebe Bridgers’ Punisher, Big Thief’s Capacity, Del Water Gap’s self-titled LP, Lucy Dacus’ Historian, Indigo De Souza’s All Of This Will End.

Nicolle: There’s a line in your press release that stuck with me: “finding softness in harsh places.” What does softness look like in your life right now?

Gemma: I’m trying to be gentler with myself these days. I tend to veer towards self-critical, and I’m trying to work on that. Taking things a little less seriously, allowing things to happen instead of fighting the inevitable. It’s hard to do. Feels like a lifetime of work. But if I just focus on doing what feels good in my body in each given moment, it feels easier.

When I was in the depths of an awful breakup in college, I remember asking a mentor what to do. She just looked at me and said, “You just need to listen to your body. In each given moment, ask your body what it needs. And give it that.” At that moment, it felt like almost annoyingly obvious advice, but there’s a lot of truth to what she said. And I think I’m only now, years later, starting to get the hang of it. I think that’s kind of what “Hedonist” is about.

Allow yourself to feel good, nourish yourself, and be as compassionate and understanding towards yourself as you are to others. I think about a line from one of my favourite poems, “Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver:

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile, the world goes on.”

That’s what softness looks like to me right now.

Nicolle: Queer joy and resilience are threaded through your work. How has your connection to queer community—especially the NYC queer line dancing scene—influenced your music and self-expression?

Gemma: Oh, it’s been everything. Finding the NYC queer line dancing scene has been so healing for me. Coming back to my body and reveling in the joy that is shared movement, collective euphoria, country music, cowboy culture, and queer community?? I mean, come on, it feels too good to be true. I just feel so lucky to be a part of it. It’s definitely made me more confident in taking up space and not being afraid to be, like, outwardly sexy. I definitely wouldn’t have made a video like the one for Hedonist had I not stumbled into that scene.

With ‘Hedonist’, Gemma Laurence doesn’t just reclaim the spotlight—she seduces it. Her evolution from soft-spoken folk to sultry alt-rock isn’t just a genre shift; it’s a reclamation of joy, body, and voice. As she gears up to release We Were Bodies Underwater, it’s clear Gemma’s music remains as intimate as ever, just now with a bit more lipstick, leather, and line-dancing magic. If desire is a dance, she’s leading—and she’s not asking for permission. Saddle up, queer cowboys. The future is femme, loud, and euphoric.

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Nicolle Knapova is a little bit of everything. She is a freelance translator, content creator. She loves indie music and is always browsing through Spotify to find the next amazing artist to obsess over. Her love for storytelling means she’s always writing something and she’s not afraid of any genre. Her biggest dream is to be a published author. If she’s not writing her fan fiction, she’s writing her poetry and sharing it on her Instagram @elisecaverly.

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