NYC singer-songwriter Jake Trevor’s debut self-titled album JAKE TREVOR (out May 24) takes us on a journey from piano balladry and electro-pop club bangers, to coffeehouse folk and soulful indie-pop. This album has a through-line of rebellion and empowerment. It spans from deeply sad or romantic ballads to the utter jubilant glee of his heart-pounding dance anthems. He takes on topics of family, homophobia, religion, love and sex, all through a lens of passion and hope.
While out in California, Trevor met Grammy-nominated engineer/producer Elliott Lanam, best known for his work on Katy Perry’s album Prism and her hit single “Roar” in particular. They hit it off and started working together at Lanam’s Hidden City Studios in Santa Barbara, CA. Together they made an album that crosses genres—that speaks to vulnerable, emotional thinkers, while also connecting with folks who want to embrace the kind of rave/nightclub exuberance that’s sometimes dirty, occasionally very gay, and always super fun.
Hear “Father Don’t Forgive Me” by Jake Trevor NOW!
JAKE TREVOR kicks off with the powerful voice-and-piano ballad “Should I.” Trevor’s emotional depth and raw vulnerability are on full display as he sings about being overwhelmed in life and wondering what to do next. His heartfelt lyrics and deeply-moving voice are like a boat dancing on the piano’s ocean waves, especially when he hits the high notes singing, “What would you do if you had one day left to live / Who would you love if your heart had one last chance.”
“Growing up, I always had that feeling of looking from the outside in,” says Trevor. “I wanted a million friends and parents who could accept me for who I was. I felt like bosses were only there to put a nail in your coffin. I felt like just throwing my hands up in the air. I was thinking about what’s important in life, and what I’d do if I had one day left to live. I decided that I’d make sure that the people in my life know that I love them, and I’d play music.”
“Father Don’t Forgive Me”
– A song of solidarity for all of the homeless kids who have been kicked out because of their sexual orientation, out May 24
The video for “Should I” was shot on a cold, foggy and rainy January morning on Governors Island and around the ancient-looking structures of Fort Jay. The abandoned desolation of the video’s background mirrors the isolation and haunting beauty of the piano playing under Trevor’s authentically heartbreaking vocal performance.
The ethereal, synth-driven “Best Love” embodies that overwhelming feeling of new love, when nothing else matters but that other person. It’s genuine passion washes over you as Trevor utilizes a primal lyrical repetition—where the words “You’re my best love” are like a spiritual mantra. Its warm, dreamy vulnerability would be equally at home as a stadium-ready anthem as it would inside an intimate listening room.
“I get chills and tear up when I perform this live,” says Trevor. “I feel like I’m putting myself out there more with this one than my other songs. I can feel my heart sink as I sing. I’m consumed by this overwhelming feeling of love. I like to picture a cliff by the ocean with the sun setting. A mysterious, beautiful woman on a white horse gallops to the cliff’s edge to see a crowd of 1000 people. Then, she locks eyes with that one person that matters more to her than anybody.”
Trevor can move effortlessly from stirring Adele-esqe balladry to embrace the pure joy of electronic dance music. Like those who’ve pushed the envelope of sexual taboos before him (Madonna and George Michael in decades past, or Nicki Minaj and Cardi B more recently), Trevor’s song “Boyfriend” is a NSFW, gay-sex-positive, electropop heater. It conjures images of shirtless men writhing in steamy, dark back rooms or clandestine raves.
“Gay sex was a forbidden topic until recently,” says Trevor. “So much so, that it used to be thought of as a mental illness. It was something that you were supposed to feel shame about, even when it feels so right on the inside. I want to normalize homosexuality. I wanted to make a vulgar and shameless song that felt equally fun and unsafe to listen to. I’m not telling people to cheat, but I wanted the song to feel shocking.”
Trevor brings a macro-dose of celebratory fun with “Bounce Bounce.” This energetic ode to the booty is a club-hit-in-waiting with its driving house beat and infinitely sing-along-able refrain of “This booty go bounce bounce.” Imagine if Frankie Knuckles remixed Major Lazor’s “Bubble Butt” and Katy Perry’s “Swish Swish,” with a little SOPHIE’s “LEMONADE” added for flavor. It has the infectious catchiness of “Baby Shark,” while calling people of all ages to the dance floor. It’s one of those songs that would feel at home on workout playlists, family dancefloors and spontaneous dance parties (illicit or otherwise). This song gives you permission to not take the world too seriously as you make your own booty go bounce bounce.
“I love and hate how fun and catchy this silly song is,” Trevor laughs. “I hate how much I love it. I imagine so many different people dancing to this song: gym girls in spandex, guys in tight jeans, an old lady with a walker, kids at a birthday party. This song is a gift for everybody.”
The synthpop “Gotta Let Go” is an empowering song about letting go of the people who shouldn’t be in your life. Something Trevor has had to work hard to achieve and come to terms with. “This song is directly about my family,” says Trevor. “I had to let go of people I love so that I could move on and live my life.”
The catwalk-ready electro-disco “DRESS” is a bold statement about individuality and fashion. It’s a call to embody your genuine self, whether embracing your sexuality, gender identity or simply your choice of clothing. Its use of electronic disco horns and EDM beat drops make this an anthem of empowerment for the post Madonna’s ”Vogue” era.
The gentle acoustic folk-pop track “Coffee & Wine” is a true New York City tale. Trevor takes on class warfare through springtime flutes, whistling and his jangly guitar. The trials and tribulations of the service industry are front and center in this story of a waitress who was cursed to work alone when her chef called in “sick of the bullshit pay that you call a living.” This cafe was in its last hours and was only serving its patrons coffee and wine.
“I was feeling very European as I sat at that sidewalk cafe, sipping on my two beverages. All I was missing was the cigarette.” laughs Trevor. “I kept thinking about how ruthless and unforgiving the hospitality industry is. I’ve been through it while bartending. Disrespectful customers. Bad bosses. Not making enough money to live. Leaving because you’re fed up with the whole system. This song encompasses all of these feelings.”
“Father Don’t Forgive Me” is an open letter to his evangelical Christian father and hateful religious practices in general. It’s a song of solidarity for all of the homeless kids who have been kicked out because of their sexual orientation. “I grew up in a hostile homophobic family,” says Trevor, ”and I want people to know they’re not alone. It’s what I needed when my family cut me off. That was years ago, but it feels like forever.”
The symphonic, sad and beautiful “Paradise Lost” finds Trevor crooning a lament. He lyrically grieves the time and opportunities that he missed out on during his youth because of his sheltered upbringing. He moves through the anger he feels towards his religiously fanatical parents when he sings, “No summer smiles, butterflies, you’re the only reason why,” to the hope he finds in lyrics like, “So here I go / rebuild those sails / make my own winds.”
After taking this journey of highs and lows on JAKE TREVOR, the album concludes on a hopeful note with “Safety.” Its soaring orchestral melodies heighten Trevor’s emotive lyrics of finding the people in your life who embrace you for who you are. This is a song about finding sanctuary and belonging. It’s a song of true love that concludes the album in a climactic cinematic swell.
Trevor is one of those cases where music saved his life while growing up in an unsympathetic, homophobic, ultra-religious household. He was one of seven children that his mother home-schooled with a conservative Christian curriculum. His family moved frequently around the South East, from rural Tennessee, to suburban Nashville, to the mountains of Virginia. His family often left the churches they attended because they weren’t strict enough in their religious fervor. Trevor found refuge in an old piano and the poetry that would become his lyrics.
“We were too poor to afford lessons,” says Trevor, “So I taught myself piano through an old college course I found at a thrift shop. I bought an old antique 1910 Mehlin upright piano on Craigslist. I bought a tuner and learned to tune it myself.”
Trevor’s father was staunchly anti-gay, and Trevor decided that he couldn’t take it anymore and bought a one-way train ticket to New York City, just after Thanksgiving. He walked out of Penn Station with just a suitcase and oversized hand-me-down clothes. He spent his last $40 on a taxi to Queens to house-sit for an elderly man who was going to be in California for a few months.
Back in Virginia, Trevor’s family found an incriminating photograph that outed him. They had a phone call where his father said the most horrible things and the entire family cut him off. That was the first Christmas he spent without his family. Trevor has since been to therapy to work through this trauma. He now feels less sadness, and more empowerment. He went out of his way to create a new family.
“You don’t have just one family in this life,” says Trevor. “Moving to New York was like living in a movie. I came here from nothing. I got an education in life, and found my people. Now I’m ten-times-over not the same person I was when I left Virginia. The inspiration in this city is endless. I read an interview with Dolly Parton where she talked about jotting down a note anytime she was inspired. So I did the same and kept a journal. I made it a point to pay attention to my surroundings, to be present in my new life.”
Trevor took odd jobs, began bartending and was able to buy a cheap Yamaha keyboard and a Taylor 714ce acoustic guitar. He explored NYC neighborhoods and rode the subway. There he noticed buskers playing music and he began to study them. He finally got up the courage to begin busking himself.
“Busking is the best way to get over nerves and meet people from all over the world,“ says Trevor. “But more than anything, I like to see people’s immediate reactions. Once, I was playing John Lennon’s ‘Imagine,’ and an older woman just watched with tears streaming down her face. There’s nothing like making that kind of meaningful connection with someone through music. It’s so personal. People missing their trains to listen. Getting anyone in New York’s attention for two minutes really means something. New York’s subway is the greatest stage on Earth.”
Trevor released a series of singles leading to his debut LP. The first was the piano ballad “Pieces,” about how fragile life and relationships can be. The we-only-have-one-life-to-live single “What I Want” is a powerful, fearless, energetic song about going after what you want in life. The pop-funk break-up song “Bitch Don’t Come Back” channels the catharsis that can only come from immediately getting those angry feelings off of your chest. “Yellowtape” is about giving into temptation, especially when it might not be the best decision in the long run.
JAKE TREVOR is self-titled because it’s the birth of something new. This is a man that had to go through tremendous changes to end up as the artist we hear on this album. He’s telling the world who he is, loud and proud. It’s a brave and bold record that feels impactful in so many different ways. We learn who Trevor is, from his most soul-spilling ballads to his most fun-filled dance tracks. In “Boyfriend,” Trevor sings, “Man on man / goddamn / don’t let my father walk in.” He knows first hand what it means to lose everything you’ve ever known and have to start a new life.
“Lots of kids have been in that same situation as me,” says Trevor. “So many homeless youth have been kicked out of their houses for being LGBTQ+. So many suicides happen to youth between a certain age because they’re gay. They were picked on. They were unloved by the people that brought them into this world. I want people to know that it’s going to be okay. You don’t just have one family in this life. Surround yourself with people who love you, and leave the rest behind. It’s my dream to start an organization to get LGBTQ+ youth out of bad homes and into society. I want to use my voice to support these people.”
“More rights are given to LGBTQ+ people in general, but it’s still bad out there. So many of my songs are influenced by that. ‘Father Don’t Forgive Me,’ ‘Gotta Let Go,’ and even ‘Boyfriend.’ Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that kid out there who was me. If I was a gay man in the ‘70s, I’d have no choices. Now in 2024, I get to unapologetically be me and pay it forward to the next generation.”
Jake Trevor: TRACK LIST
01 Should I
02 Best Love
03 Gotta Let Go
04 Coffee and Wine
05 DRESS
06 Father Don’t Forgive Me
07 Boyfriend
08 Bounce Bounce
09 Paradise Lost
10 Safety
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