Singer-songwriter King Princess brings ‘Girl Violence’ to Southern California

Singer-songwriter Mikaela Straus, who performs as King Princess, wants you to know it’s not you, Los Angeles. It’s her.

Straus went home to Brooklyn recently after eight or nine years in Southern California. After breakups with both her girlfriend and her record label, she felt restless for change. Los Angeles had to go.

“I had this breakup with the city where I was like, I cannot live in Los Angeles anymore,” says Straus, now 26. “No offense. We love her, but I spent basically all of my adult years so far in L.A., and I hadn’t spent adult time in my hometown, which is New York City.

“And I think, ‘How lucky am I that my hometown is New York City?’” she says. “I was kind of like, ‘You know, I think it’s right for me to go home.

“It was kind of like a chain of events,” Straus continues. “Leaving the label. [Producer Mark Ronson signed her to his Columbia Records imprint Zelig Records for her first two albums.] Leaving L.A. and then leaving a relationship all kind of consecutively felt like a chain reaction of things that weren’t working.

“Things that felt like they were impeding me from being a silly little art nerd that I want to be. And I am. It just all started happening, and I was like, ‘OK, well, I guess it’s time to write a record about it because it feels pretty poignant.’”

“Girl Violence,” her third album, arrived in September to strong reviews. It brings her back to Southern California for shows at the House of Blues in Anaheim on Friday, Nov. 21, and the Wiltern in Los Angeles on Saturday, Nov. 22.

Straus, who made her acting debut earlier this year in the Nicole Kidman-starring Hulu series “Nine Perfect Strangers,” will appear in December in the Hugh JackmanKate Hudson movie “Song Sung Blue,” playing the daughter of Jackman’s Neil Diamond tribute band singer.

In an interview edited for length and clarity, Straus discussed “Girl Violence,” the symbolism of cherries, Hugh Jackman and more.

Q: So you moved to L.A. to go to USC’s program for popular music?

A: Yeah, and it was such an amazing place to become an adult. I had such an interesting time in L.A. My first apartment was in this “Melrose Place”-like place with a pool in the middle and a courtyard. I was like 17, and all my neighbors were this very dysfunctional family.

You could give your keys to anyone. I’d be so (messed) up from the night before, and my door would be open and a baby would walk in. And you’re caring for a baby. It was such an interesting place to live. Truly, like, a show could be made about that apartment. So I feel very grateful to L.A. for playing a role and raising me.

Q: The new record is great with love stories and breakup stories that anyone can relate to. I’m guessing some of it’s autobiographical?

A: Well, they’re pretty autobiographical. I think what is so amazing about songwriting is that it’s a short form of writing. It’s all about conciseness and you’re basically jamming a story into between two and five minutes, so that’s always a challenge for me.

Something I love about songwriting is each song is a different perspective and it’s telling a different story that, if you listen to all of it, becomes one story, but individually they do stand on their own. And it’s fun to weave in things that are specific and yet relatable. Humor, metaphor, simile. References.

There’s so much there, it’s really interesting and fun and I get really nerdy about it. All these different ways to talk about basically one theme, which is girl violence.

Q: Well, let’s talk about the idea of girl violence. I’m obviously, you know, not a girl –

A: What?!

Q: I know, I should have said that up front.

A: You should have said that going into this. We’re done now. [Laughs]

Q: [Laughs] But tell me about your concept of it. Boy violence is usually physical and really dumb. Girl violence, listening to these songs, is many things?

A: You kind of nailed it. There’s almost a subversive joke to be made even of the title itself. Like, “Girl Violence,” it feels like two things that are antithetical to each other, and yet it is so incredibly present. Boy violence is simple, and I think girl violence, it’s more varied.

It’s subliminal and it’s like beating up someone’s heart instead of their body.

Q: When did you start thinking about it?

A: Honey, I’ve been a lesbian since I was 5 years old. My whole life has been girl violence, you know? And sometimes you’re the perpetrator of it, you’re the doer, and sometimes you’re the receiver, the taker.

Sometimes it’s a friendship, sometimes it’s a business relationship. Sometimes it’s love and sex and romance. That’s what’s interesting to me. That, in the midst of a world full of masculine violence, we are simultaneously inflicting it upon each other. And it’s sneaky and intelligent, you know?

That’s what I think is so brilliant about women of all sorts, not just cisgendered women, but any form of womanhood, is that to have empathy is the probably the greatest tool in the whole world. But with empathy comes intelligence and with intelligence comes chaos.

Q: So I have to ask you about the cherries — in the lyrics, the song “Cherry,” the cherry mascot in the artwork, the cherry tattoo flash you had created.

A: I decided to create a character to embody the girl violence because it’s very much like it needs a mascot. Like anytime somebody is acting absolutely cuckoo-bananas, they can be like, “Cherry was with me.”

She’s an ancient deity that both embodies and causes girl violence. And I do think there is something about just the fruit. When I was concepting Cherry and how she was going to be animated, she has these huge breasts and she’s quite evil. I was like, cherries are such an interesting and, like, sexual and violent fruit.

First of all, they’re round like boobs, which is great. But they’re also this iconography of sex while also being bloody and messy. Like, eating a cherry is messy. It’s not like eating a blueberry or a grape. They’ve got these stems and you’re putting it in your mouth and you’re ripping off her [bleepin’] head to ingest her.

Q: And you get stained with the cherry juice.

A: You’re stained, and you’re covered – I smoked a lot of weed today, can you tell? [She laughs]. There’s something that just works there, and when I saw the drafts of what she would look like, I was like, “Wow, what an evil broad.”

Q: No, she’s a very fun mascot. I know you like to dress up in costumes. Have you been Cherry yet?

A: I have.

Q: You have a Cherry suit?

A: It’s not a suit, baby. What happened was, I called my SFX artist – LOL that I have one – when you dress up as much as me, and it’s as involved as what I do, you need professionals. I called Nina, and I was like, “What do you think about making me into Cherry?”

My concept was that I’m naked in a bikini, like a red, glittery bikini, but everything else naked, and I’m painted red, head to toe. But I’m in a bald cap and the bald cap has a green stem coming out of it. And she was like, “Got it,” and then we did that.

Q: You mentioned the need for levity and humor in your songs even when they’re sometimes about beautiful songs about sad things. You like to have a little bit of comic relief?

A: I mean, that’s pretty much my whole MO. It’s partially, I would attribute my sense of humor and laughing through the pain to how I was raised in New York with so many queer elders that had endured life in a time when their friends were dying, and when everything was kind of diametrically opposed to their favor.

And yet some of the greatest art and laughter and silliness and flamboyance and creativity really came out of that pain, as a response to that pain, and out of necessity. So for me, yeah, I definitely have embodied that from learning from these people. It’s become kind of a staple in my art, kind of always having a nod and wink even in the darkest moments.

I think that’s a lesson that the queer community really embodies, especially right now, when you see, as history repeats itself and we once again find ourselves in a place where our country has turned on us and we are in danger. And yet, look how much queer art is coming out right now.

That is our superpower, our ability to respond to pain with levity. But then, on a very practical level, I can’t be cryin’ all the time.

Q: No, I don’t wanna cry all the time either.

A: No. I hope I bring that to the party. [She laughs]

Q: I know you play tons of instruments. Tell me about the musical side of this record and how it came together.

A: What was so great about it was that Jake [Portrait of Unknown Mortal Orchestra] and Joe [Pincus the producer known as Aire Atlantica] are both so competent in different departments. I get to flutter around and play stuff and be a Swiss Army Knife instrumentalist.

This record, I probably played more instruments than any other record I’ve done because I was so excited to play. [She’s credited on the album with guitar, bass, drums, synths, piano, Mellotron, percussion, drum machines, and keyboards.]

And these boys allowed me the freedom to do that. To get stoned and do the [bleepin’] guitar part 36 times and be like, “OK, one more.”

Q: How has your live show changed since 2019, when you started playing Coachella, Lollapalooza and Glastonbury even before the debut album arrived?

A: I guess there’s an overall level of competency. I’m a lot less drunk and on drugs, so that definitely plays a big part in the show itself. I’ve taken notes off myself and also off the people that I’ve toured with Florence [and the Machine], the Chili Peppers and Kasey Musgraves.

In addition to that, I feel like I’ve learned immensely from my audience. What I’ve come to realize is it’s always been a rock show. No matter what the genre of the music was. And this record feels the most aligned to what the show already sounded like. It always has been because those the types of shows I grew up going to.

I’m a [bleepin’] Led Zeppelin addict. I grew up idolizing the White Stripes and Oasis and Soundgarden. The type of artist that was always like, “I’m a rock star.” So the show was a rock show, but maybe the studio recordings leaned more pop, and now I feel it’s just [bleep] to the wall.

Q: Let’s talk about acting a little. How has it changed or complemented your musical career?

A: Honestly, this has been so fun. They feel really symbiotic. I feel like acting and music are just two heads of the same coin. It really just is a different way to use your body and perform. If you change out singing for talking, I feel like there’s so much rhythm and timing and emotion and delivery that goes into both.

And the coolest part is that I have the honor and privilege of working with these seasoned actors who are not only my scene partners but my teachers. You can get as much from it as you’re willing to take, and for me, it’s like the most exciting part. In the same way that when I was opening for Florence Welch or Chili Peppers, watching them every night and going, “Oh my God,” I’m soaking it in by observing.

Q: I know you were a fan of Hugh Jackman long before “Song Sung Blue” came along. What was it like working with him on it?

A: It was amazing. Because when you meet a megastar like Hugh Jackman and not only are they an incredible performer and an incredible actor and a motor, but also one of the kindest men ever? Like, truly commanded that set as No. 1 on the call sheet with dignity and class and decorum and kindness. Knew everybody’s names.

Every Friday was Lotto ticket day. He’d give out Lotto tickets. One scene we filmed, him and I, was at like 5 a.m. They did my coverage second, meaning the camera was on me second. And he could have been like, “It’s 5 a.m., peace out.” Like, “You can talk to a tennis ball with a wig on it.”

And no, he’s there giving me his all on the other side of the camera. That to me is the sign of somebody who loves what they do and loves the community and the transfer of acting with other people.

 

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