EXPLORING ISLA JUNE’S ‘WILD PLACES’

Los Angeles singer, musician and songwriter ISLA JUNE spoke to us about her music, creative process, and her journey as an artist so far. The “Strange Times, Dark Days” singer will release a new single, “WILD PLACES” this month.

Isla June creates music that transcends genres. As most of us have diverse tastes in music, Isla June likes the idea that “each release can become its own little world- from sound and vibe to the actual visuals and aesthetic. I also love writing with different people and bringing their sensibility and magic into Isla June.”

PHOTOGRAPHER: MORGAN DEMETER, STYLING: ALEXANDRA PREISZ, MAKEUP: KELSEY THALKEN, PRODUCER: BRI MARANGA

There’s nostalgia, sensuality and longing in her tracks. The sound may vary, but what’s constant is that incessant feeling to search for something deep within someone’s self, thus encouraging you, as an audience to take your own personal journey. Thanks to her commanding vocals, her music inspires a myriad of emotions.

Isla June’s music has been placed on Riverdale, Good Trouble and Teen Mom.

Who are your musical influences?

This answer changes every week! Some of my all timers are Mazzy Star, The War on Drugs, and Fleetwood Mac. Lately, I’ve been feeling super inspired by Lykke Li’s record from 2014 called I Never Learn. The song “Gunshot” gets me every time.

What inspired you to pursue music?

I began pursuing music seriously when I quit my full-time day job in advertising a little over two years ago. Per your typical millennial, it made my stomach churn thinking I could very easily spend the rest of my life not pursuing my real passion as a career. I was well on my way to doing that until I realized I would rather try (and potentially fail) at my own dream, than spend every day working for someone else’s.

Are you originally from LA? What are the challenges of being an artist in LA?

I am from just outside of Los Angeles, born and raised in Westlake Village where my parents still live in the house I grew up. I started my first band in high school and we would pack every one of our shows, effortlessly. I don’t think I fully comprehended how unique it was then, but my local music scene was kind of incredible. It was such a supportive community of artists and fans.

Now that I’m in LA proper trying to be an artist and songwriter, I think one of the biggest challenges for me was finding that deep sense of community that used to be such a big part of my identity. I know incredible communities exist in this city, but it’s more siloed than I had realized. So, when I started playing shows again, I wasn’t exactly sure where I belonged, if anywhere, which led to a brutal case of imposter syndrome.

It’s been about five years since I started Isla June, and though it’s something I still very much deal with and work through, I have embraced the fact that I can’t recreate what I had over a decade (!) ago, and I no longer have the desire to. The challenges I’ve experienced in LA have equally been some of the biggest blessings–opening me up to explore new opportunities I never knew existed and introducing me to wonderful people who have gone on to become friends and collaborators.

How were you able to rise up these challenges?

Embracing them. Finding the opportunity in them. Being okay with stepping outside of my comfort zone. Working through the endless ocean of self-doubt, but knowing my peers are feeling it, too, and that I’m not alone. Celebrating the small wins and letting them push me forward.

How’s your creative process like?

My holistic creative process is typically broken into three phases: writing, recording, and releasing. Within each phase is its own creative process and deliverables. Sometimes I am genuinely inspired and a song or creative vision comes to life quickly. I think any artist can tell you that those moments are amazing, but not consistent. As I continue to grow into myself as a songwriter, I try not to rely solely on inspiration to make things. That was my approach for many years, and it yielded approximately one song per year. Not exactly prolific. Now, if I want to write a song or work on a production and I don’t feel particularly inspired by anything, I sit down and do it, even if its shit. More often than not the inspiration finds you, even if it wasn’t there to begin with.

For you, when is the best time to create/write music? What’s the most ideal environment for you?

I am most comfortable creating in my own space (my bedroom), but I don’t necessarily believe that always produces the best results. There is a lot of distraction here, plus a very cute, snuggly dog who I have a hard time saying no to. I love being in a cozy studio with good vibes and good people, and find that experience to be most conducive to making great work. And maybe a bit of smokable greenery to get the creative juices flowing.

Do you prefer working alone when you create your art or do you thrive whenever you work with other people?

100% working with other people is one of the best parts of being a musician. The beauty of LA is that you can walk out your front door and bump into an incredible writer, producer, artist, photographer, director, designer at every corner (don’t do that right now, of course).

Aside from music, what else keeps you busy?

I’m a freelance brand strategist and resume editor. I am very bad at relaxing.

How do you adapt and keep yourself relevant?

I’m not sure I’m particularly relevant right now and I think that’s okay. I’m a white girl from the suburbs who has been privileged enough to pursue my passion, with full recognition and acceptance that my voice is just not the most important voice in the room. I will always make music and work hard to make a living from it, but mostly I do this for my own sanity and because it makes me happy.

What’s a valuable lesson that you’ve learned from your career that you think is universally relevant?

Just go for it. I know there will always be a thousand reasons not to do something, but if you can’t stop thinking about it, find a way to give it a shot. That may look different each of us. We all know people who have only ever done the thing they do. That’s amazing! But it just wasn’t my path. Maybe it never will be. It took me a long time and a totally separate career to get where I am now, which still feels very much like the beginning. But push through it. Find your way. Don’t worry about replicating someone else’s experience. Make it work for you.

Are there any advice that you can provide to any aspiring creative individual who wants to break into the industry and establish themselves as a business?

A few things:

1. This sounds so cliché and obvious, but it really clicked with me when I heard the same thing–you’ll never be successful at something you give up on. Maybe it’ll take a year. Maybe it’ll take ten years. Maybe your definition of success will evolve over time. Maybe the cards are particularly stacked against you and you have to find creative solutions to get through them. Maybe the cards are perfectly lined up, but you’re afraid they’ll fall so you bail. Don’t. Just keep going.

2. Read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield

3. Find someone, or a group of someones you can trust to hold you accountable and give you their honest feedback, even if that feedback isn’t a glowing review. Embracing constructive criticism is valuable for so many reasons. It helps us become better. It allows us to see or hear things we didn’t before. And it teaches us to better trust our own instincts (because sometimes the correct response to feedback is knowing when not to listen to it).

If you were a book, what book would you be and why?

My future memoir that I’ll never write because my life is boring will probably be called something along the lines of An Almost But Not Quite Identity Crisis. My dad used to tell me that when I was a kid I would “try on” parts of people’s personas and keep the bits that I liked. I think he was politely calling me a poser? But the sentiment checks out. I get really into something for a while and think “This is it! This is the thing!” but then I move on and it’s still part of me, but not all of me, and the cycle just repeats.