We’re excited to present My Music Story. This new campaign shares the personal stories of LGBTQ music artists from around the world and their relationship with music.

#MyMusicStories crosses genres, gender expression and locations. Some artists will express the importance of visibility and representation in music, while others will focus on the healing and comforting power of music. In all instances, the stories come from the personal perspective of our artists and their unique experiences. 

Music can soothe us, impassion us and sometimes save us.

This new series underscores the importance of music in our lives and illustrates why supporting the queer music community and independent artists is essential.  

Read their stories below, look for the hashtag #MyMusicStory on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter and visit our social media channels @theQReviews and watch for a new My Music Story each day.

Thank you to all the artists who have already contributed — please take some time to explore their art and music. They are true talents you’ll be hearing more from soon. If you’re an artist who’d like to share their story, please reach out to us at info@qreview.ca
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Robert O'Connor
Music is the air that I breathe, the nourishment I need, and always has been. I don’t go a day without listening to music, hell I barely go an hour. When I was a kid, I had no interest in TV, but I would sit and listen to my parent’s records while looking at the artwork and the liner notes. When I was in school I’d zone out in a class and write out lyrics – at first the lyrics to my favourite pop songs of the time, and then my own little sets of lyrics. It was a way of expressing myself and escaping something that never felt like a good fit for me, the classroom, where for the last few years I’d felt I was wasting time that would be better spent honing my skills as a performer. I always had that strong gut feeling of what it was I needed to do, but from around 16 it went into sharp focus. I read endless music magazines when I was a teen, bought every CD album and single I could afford.
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I remember being particularly affected by Dido’s ‘No Angel’, I had bought it off the back of her appearance on Eminem’s “Stan”. Her work really influenced my songwriting, it resonated with me, especially at times when I felt like I didn’t really mesh with the people around me, that I was somehow destined for a different path. The first single I ever bought was Steps’ “Last Thing On My Mind”, and I fell in love with their energy, their vocals, the sheer fun of it, but what I loved most was there was a lot of heart to their songs, and beneath the glossy surface and dance beats there was a sadness to a lot of the songs – that’s something I think you can hear In my music today. Live music shows are the biggest treat of all. I’m a big fan of Tame Impala and always considered them a cult act – but when I saw them live last year and looked around and saw everyone singing the words and on the same vibe, that was living.

Bellsavvy
Music and I, we have a love story.
After passing through several hard moments in my life, struggling with my inner battles about my figure, my size, my queerness etc, music is the light in the dark days. Is the hand I hold on to. Music is the best friend I have to support me with everything I am and is the one who accepts me in the most beautiful nonjudgmental way.

River Ezra
My music is an extension of who I am, a queer, empathic, & empowered individual. It’s important for artists in queer communities to feel supported & represented just as much as it is for every artistic minority group who’s not been fairly supported or represented historically. Many brave queer artists fought hard and have opened doors for myself & others to share our voices. I respectfully disagree hope to be a part of building upon their legacy & an advocate for future queer artists to come.

Conleth Kane
Music was always escapism for me. I had a massive love for all kinds of music from the earliest age, from ABBA to Erasure to Spice Girls to Andrew Lloyd Webber to Mariah Carey. I didn't have much of a social life growing up so I lost myself in my favourite Artists. The Spice Girls taught me to speak up for myself. They gave so many young gay men the opportunity to have faith that being your authentic self was ok. I saw their reunion tour last year at Wembley Stadium and there was a sea of gay men my age and it's clear this was a movement.

I also am grateful for the likes of Elton John, George Michael and Freddie Mercury. Three of the biggest selling Artists in Pop Music are British homosexuals. Having them was confirmation that I could potentially follow my dream and be out! It's wonderful to see so many other LGBTQ+ Artists follow in their footsteps who will hopefully inspire a whole new generation of young people who are struggling with their identity.

I wrote my song 'Proud' as an anthem for everyone in our community and beyond. This song was incredibly therapeutic for me. I receive messages about this song all the time and I cannot tell you how touched I get when I read that it helped someone through a difficult time, or even to come out. That is the best feeling in the world.

Boy Untitled
Growing up, music was a like secret door that I could walk through. A gateway to my queerness that I didn’t yet know how to define or articulate. Growing up closeted in a religious home, I had to learn how to hide pieces of myself in order to survive. Sometimes I hid them so well, that I couldn’t see them myself. Music allowed me to uncover and enjoy those parts of me when no was looking. Listening to dance and female pop artists was an ecstatic experience. I’d shut my door, put my Walk-man on and dance around my room. One day, I remember being so ashamed of my collection of Ace of Base, Britney and Christina albums, that I microwaved them. I destroyed them so that they wouldn’t exist inside of me anymore.

Today, I make music as the ultimate form self-expression and liberation. As much as it is for me to talk about my experiences as a queer person, I make music so that others don’t have to feel the shame that I did; so that they can connect more deeply with themselves. The more I write music, the more deeply connected I feel with our community. I am constantly inspired by the vulnerability of those creating around me (Gess, Annabelle Maginnis, Neo10y to name a few). It’s something I didn’t have any awareness or access to as a child that I think could have changed my life. For that reason, queer representation is critical today more than ever. I count myself lucky to be among those creating with this purpose. To be able to make music that helps other queer folx feel less alone, more empowered to be who they are, and share their stories.

Butterfly Feels
Music has always been a huge part of my life; I don’t know if I could go a minute without thinking about a melody, a hook, or a beat. I’m truly obsessed with the art in all aspects. If a movie was made about my life, there would have to be music playing in every single scene. Growing up, my favorite day was Friday for one reason only, my dad would bust out his DJ equipment and set the house ablaze with the hottest tracks from old to new. I’m truly thankful for his impeccable taste which molded me into the artist I am today.

When I met my boo, mentor, producer, photographer, and videographer, NOR KIN4LIFE, I was searching for that Friday night feeling I had with my dad. From day one I felt instant nostalgia, and the feeling has never left. We definitely carry that vibe into our music when we write and record. Every record is fresh, but brings up an emotion, a memory, or a moment you want to hold onto.

Butterfly Feels emerged from her cocoon in 2018. Stepping into your greatness is intimidating at first, especially when you realize how powerful you are and how impactful you have the potential to be. I definitely needed a guide to finding Fleezy, and NOR has been that and more. We’re a musical match made in heaven; the love we have for one another is deeper than words or a song can ever go, but we continue to try. I truly hope everyone finds a love as great as ours. Nothing feels better than having the right person by your side to grow with. We’ll be making music together forever to our last day.

PRIMME
For me, music has always been about communication. Long before I had language to put to my queerness, I knew there was something about me that was a little different. When I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say growing up, it was music that granted me access to a full spectrum of emotions that ran deeper than anything I could describe with words alone. Through the combination of melodies and lyrics, I found a way to process & express everything I was feeling in a way that felt most authentic to me.

So many of the crucial intersections in my ongoing journey to self acceptance have been with music and the artists who have come before me. As a kid, I was a quiet little boy who did everything he could to fly under the radar at school, only to go home and binge-watch Madonna videos all night. I knew I was different and did everything I could to hide it, but as I listened to artists like Madonna or Prince, I heard and saw people who were unashamed to be themselves, outspoken and unapologetic.
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Music helps me celebrate equally as much as it helps me grieve - it remains one of the most vital parts of my life. Now, more than ever, I think we’re given an opportunity as Queer artists to give young people a chance to identify with music & lyrics like they never have before. I never heard music about being gay. I remember writing songs about having crushes on boys and all the complicated & confusing emotions attached to them, but substituting the word “girl” instead. I think about what it would have meant to a kid like me to hear someone singing about boys falling in love with boys, and how that could have totally shifted my journey as a queer person.

The authentic representation of diverse Queer artists we are now seeing in music is what gives me the courage to keep being true to myself as an artist. Seeing out LGBTQIA+ artists would’ve had such a huge impact on me as a kid. I’ve only really felt comfortable in my own skin in the past few years, largely because of the inspiration and support of the bold, Queer musicians in this community.

Shawn Richard
Music has always been the main pillar in my life, it has gotten me through every stage of my life. Including becoming who I always knew I was supposed to be. I've been able to get my feelings out in my lyrics and express myself in a way that I wasn't necessarily able to do before I came out.

As a mainstream country music artist, it is very difficult to break into the industry as a member of the LGBTQ community. My purpose for most of my drive is to break those barriers and show the world that country music is just as inclusive as the rest of the genres. So many of my idols and peers are in the industry and are very accepting, but there is still a lot of work to be done to make the genre completely welcoming of LGBTQ artists.
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I didn't grow up as a "queer person" although I always knew, I was very much a country born and raised boy. Music still surrounded me and always brought an inner truth to me that I could always relate to. If I'm being honest, it wasn't until I was completely out that I was able to sit down and write a complete song. A song that actually meant something to me. It was like I was able to finally let go and do what I love, songwriting.

Music has been and always will be the number 1 support system for me. It gets me through every single emotion, every day, every heartache and so much more. I grew up in a large musical family. Our family has had lots of tragedy and times we have found ourselves questioning whether or not music had a curse on us. But at the end of the day, we always realize that it is what keeps us together, keeps us strong and keeps us motivated to keep moving on.

Vance
To me music is so important as a queer artist because it allows me to express myself creatively and growing up it was an escape from a culture that marginalizes anyone who is different, weird or unconventional. Music showed me that being all of these things are acceptable and even encouraged. Music is spiritual and healing, especially once you start making your own!

Representation is essential because it is effective in eroding pre-existing stigmas or cultural myths. I think the next frontier for us queer artists is that we must break the mold of our sexuality being suppressed by the music industry and our culture generally speaking. We are now for the most part socially accepted but in terms of sex I still sense much disgust, avoidance and discomfort with non heteronormative sexuality or expression, so I feel like we are still only partially understood and accepted.

After all, what separates us from everyone else is our sexuality so why is that not centralized in our art more? Nobody bats an eye these days when a cis female or male pop star or hip-hop star expresses themselves sexually in their fashion, music, lyrics etc but there is a lack of that on our end and it needs representation and I will be one artist that will do just that.

Jenn Desantis
I am so proud to be a queer artist today. When I’m old, I want to look at this tattoo and be like “you did that.” You. A queer pianist/singer that rocked the world with a different kind of sound and inspired many to be authentic.

Today we see LGBTQ getting represented more in films, @netflix series, tv shows, etc. I wish that was the case growing up.

As a kid, I did not understand my sexuality. So in my music, it was all about boys because that’s what I saw to be normal, and I was too young to explore . I found out during college and it was hard to accept my sexuality. Shouldn’t I have known sooner?
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As kids, none of us were ever educated about LGBTQ. If kids were told at a young age that it’s okay to be gay and be told that being in the LGBTQ community is normal, damn that would have been amazing. I probably would have figured myself out a lot sooner. The fear of coming out is real. It’s not easy, and I want it to be easier for future generations.

My music shows how proud I am and I will never pretend to be anything I’m not. Love and sex are beautifully diverse. Taking love away from someone is evil. People need to get with the times and educate themselves. God made me this way, and I’m proud he did. I’m not sorry for saying that.

I’m excited for the future. LGBTQ acceptance is rising globally. Slowly but it’s growing. There are ever-evolving conversations on gender, trans rights, and coming out stories. As an artist, I will continue to fight for all rights in my community and I want you to be able to look up to me as a queer artist and person. You are not alone.

Archer Møøn
Music is something that gets me through the highs and the lows in my life. It’s so important and can definitely change a mood or make me more comfortable in certain times. Since I started releasing music, I’ve felt like music is my gateway and it’s something I’m so passionate about - a lot of my music is personal and I write a lot about my experiences in life which I find in a way very therapeutic. I can turn a negative situation that happened to me into such a good song.

As a gay man, I’ve found with my time so far as an artist, I feel represented especially within my community and supported throughout. I think within mainstream outlets and the music industry we’re slowly making progress with LGBTQI Representation and I think especially within the last few years we’re making a lot of progress. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for our community and I’m hoping we can show our voices a lot more and get the needed exposure we deserve.

Zapho
Music started off as a hobby of sorts that quickly developed into an every minute of every day passion. Now it's a way of surviving both financially, and emotionally. I remember when I was younger being confused about using she/her pronouns in my romantic love orientated songs, when I had no idea who I was or what I liked. I just remember over justifying that i wasnt gay, but that it sounded better. Sure did!

It is so important to me that we are seeing regular displays of queer narratives and visuals in all areas of the arts. Its the only way we can normalize it, and destigmatize queer relationships for what they are, the exact same as straight relationships when it comes to life and love. Most of us all want that special someone to do those ridiculously mundane and exciting tasks throughout life. Kids should know at an early level as well in terms of education, the younger the better in my opinion. My nephews don't bat an eyelid at girls loving girls and boys loving boys and boys loving girls, because it's the way it should be. To love and be loved is the most normal universal commonality.
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I was a super late bloomer musically and in understanding my sexuality so I wasn't writing a huge amount from a queer perspective at a young age. It was simply about feeling music and processing that. I taught myself how to play piano on an old keyboard in my attic when I was 17 and only started singing properly at 18/19. As a child It was film scores that really moved me and i didn't know why. I have a memory of watching the movie Brave Heart as a kid, then when i watched the movie some years later as an adult, I could hum the main melody of the score after all those years later, and it made me so emotional, the music, how music can sway the mood of a scene or explain what's going on without using words or lyrics, but rather a feeling in melody and instrumentation that evoked so many memories. This was magic to me. I wanted to write scores on piano and make people feel the way I did watching Braveheart. Now I can write and produce songs, with my own story and melody and lyrics and I try my best to capture that emotion in the music I put out there. Just try to be as authentic as possible.

Mikhail Cazi
My first memory of being enchanted by music was seeing Shakira’s 'Whenever Wherever' on the news. Ever since, that song’s been something special for me. To this day, I don’t listen to it too often lest I ruin its novelty for myself. Soon, I was singing all the time. Humming in class, singing in the shower, and even under my breath during basketball practice. Pretty annoying for my sister. My music tastes have evolved considerably over the years, and it’s not easy figuring out what kind of music I want to make. Maybe it’s a good thing to never stay in a certain sound/genre.

But I never had anything to write about. I felt like I didn’t really have much to say, but I loved the idea that I could create worlds of music that I’d dreamt up, using melodies and chord progressions. That sorta changed after coming out. For one, I felt like I could write about a lot more than I could before, and secondly - I could potentially write about things that haven’t yet been written about.

I’m never not listening to music, whether I’m playing it out loud, or a song’s playing in my head - maybe that’s why I’ve never been a tense/worrisome person. It’s such a huge reason a lot of people stay sane, which is why I feel it’s so, so important to have music that represents your thoughts. Music that represents you. Most music isn’t about queer people, and there’s a lot of us out there who have been longing for music about us.

Feryl
I’m sure, like many of you, when I was growing up I often felt like I was ‘on the outside’. I used to listen to ‘Outside’ by Mariah Carey on repeat... finally it felt like somebody understood that I wasn’t the same as everyone else. It was bittersweet but also beautiful because it allowed me to remember that the world would one day recognize me for who I really am, and being on the outside is a great place to be, because I am unique.
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Lyrically I’ve always been interested in how some artists use vocabulary to paint pictures that connect with their listeners - people like Mariah, David Bowie, Prince... even Lady Gaga have impacted on how I write because there can be so much beauty wrapped up in all the pain. May we all be celebrated for being ‘different’ because who wants to be ‘the same’, right?

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Michael White
Music. It’s been a staple in my life for as long as I can remember. But being an LGTBQ+ artist is by far such a special thing. Music is the best way to let us queer artists speak our minds and let our voices be heard.
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I remember learning “My Heart Will Go On” as little kid. I remember loving the iconic divas and boybands my sisters listened to and wanted to be them so badly. It’s always been so fascinating and a dream of mine. Growing up my dream as a singer was never supported. Until one day a friend told me to do it stop doubting myself. Even though I feel as if I started late in the game of making music, i’m so grateful to be apart of the game now.

I started out doing karaoke back in the fall of 2016. The amount of praise from random people made it clear that my voice was meant to be used. To share stories and moments of my life. And hopefully someone out there can relate to my music. First EP came out in 2019 and been continuing the process of making music that makes me happy.
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As a queer person of color making music is slowly defined on my ethnicity. I don’t make hip hop music, I don’t rap and I don’t do RnB slow jams. I love all genres. But my music is everything. It might be your cup of tea and it might not. And that’s okay. It’s me and that’s all it’s ever going to be. It’s important because it allows me to be my authentic self. I think that’s the key to being an artist. Being true and being you.

Austin Carr
Songwriting was always an empowering thing to me growing up in a conservative household because a lot of the time it felt like my only chance to actually be honest about who I was for a moment.

Buried in the lyrics I wrote were little peeks of the things I really wanted to say and what I was really afraid of, and it felt kind of thrilling to let that out in between the performance of trying to be straight and unnoticeable.
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I think that thrill still influences how I choose to write today. Music has always been a way for me to reclaim the narrative of how other people see me.

Nuno Freitas
In music I have found the opportunity to express things that I don’t necessarily have the opportunity or the courage to say: my hopes, my dreams, my desires, and my fears. I have poured all of these and all of my emotions in my work as a way to make sense of them, because as a creative person that is how I process things.

My hope is that my songs will also be of help to others, in the same way they have been to me. One of the best things is hearing someone singing exactly what you are going through and feeling better for it, less lonely. It happens to me when I listen to artists like David Bowie, Florence and the Machine, and Frank Ocean. I think that is an important function that music can have for people and especially for queer people: providing them with a space for self-expression and validation and creating a place for them to come together. I hope that my songs will contribute to such ends by celebrating the darkness and the light that we hold and which makes us human.

Bryce Bowyn
Pop music is my greatest passion in life. Growing up, the music of Lady Gaga and Britney Spears was an immense, explosive escape from a small, conservative town. When I went through a break-up, Lana Del Rey and Lykke Li were there to give a soundtrack to my heartbreak. When I need to feel empowered, artists like Madonna and Rihanna are a suit of armor against all the bullshit in the world. Music colors my whole world and I would be so lost without it.

Many of these artist feature sounds and visuals that are rooted in the queer community. While those artists certainly opened the door for growth and acceptance in the pop landscape, it excites me to see queer artists rising and reclaiming our space. It fills me with hope that future generations have actual LGBTQ idols to look up to in addition to just great allies.

Caden Gray/Sob Sister
Queer people develop a hyper awareness of our surroundings as we grow up. Our behaviors are constantly questioned, ridiculed, corrected, and noticed purely because we as people who fit outside hegemonic norms are performing them. This hyper-awareness can be used as a sort of super power, helping navigate situations and stay out of danger, but can also be very paralyzing and result in insecurity and shame.

We cultivate various versions of ourselves to present to different people in order to protect us from humiliation or harm, and in doing so can lose track of who we actually are. Art and music have always been the anchor I’ve used growing up to keep tied to who I am. I’ve consciously considered myself a musician since the age of 8, a songwriter since the age of 14, and my work has made me stand out my entire life (for better or worse).

I have something that is all mine, something that couldn’t be taken away: my voice (both literally and figuratively). I am able to harness how I’m feeling and express that through the music I write and perform, turning my work into a legacy of who I am on this planet.
Music was always armor to me growing up- when I performed it I disarmed people, when I listened to it I escaped from the world. It’s a very exciting and freeing thing to be a part of and witness in other performers. I have respect for anyone who puts themselves out in front of the world with their talent and creativity, but especially Queer performers. We have to face so much adversity in order to be ourselves, and most of the time that strength and perseverance is present in the music a Queer person makes.

As Susan Sontag says in her 1964 essay “Notes on Camp”, Queer people are the new “aristocrats of taste”. We decide what culture is, we create that culture, we steer that culture. We are not always rewarded or acknowledged for this, but it’s still true in 2020.

Our “otherness” in relation to the societal norms we live in can result in significant and intense struggles, but can also free us from the confines of heteronormative expectations to create and support unique and exciting work.

Lea Stylez
I think that the visibility of LGBTQ artists is very important in music. Being able to be seen for who you are!
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Knowing that their are people out there like you, that are on top in the music industry is inspiring. It shows that we are all equal, and we don’t have to hide who we are in order to make it.

Will Riley
Music is important to me because it makes me feel like I can get through to people, in the sense that I can cut through a lot of red tape and bluntly bop them over the head with an idea.

It can be something profound and grandiose like my thoughts on the human condition or something trivial such as hot boys and their ability to discombobulate me.
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Its goofy, its serious, its my friend, and as a queer person I feel safe giving my heart to music because I know that it's something no one can take away from me.

Clinton John
Personally, music has been the medium that allowed me to be my most authentic self not only in the songs I write but the way I present and express myself. It has given me the freedom to explore fashion, visuals, and love in a way I wouldn't have if I wasn't an artist.

We are all influenced by the societal norms we see growing up and being someone who didn't know gay people existed until my late teen years I wonder how my childhood would have unfolded had I seen that representation in media. It's our human nature to connect and it can be isolating not having music, films, and art that you see yourself in. Having LGBTQIA+ content available to me growing up is something that I feel would have helped with gaining my confidence earlier and I am excited to see the incredible content coming from the younger community as they grow up in a world where queer content is available.

When I was a sophomore in high school I had to leave the Christian School I was attending due to the fact that I was gay. Music is what I turned to. It wasn't an easy transition but having something I could pour myself into since the friends and sports I was involved in at my school were taken away was what got me through.
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I've recently realized how therapeutic creating music has been for me. I strive to write honest and vulnerable music which has allowed me to work through emotions that I often wasn't aware I was feeling. Though all experiences good and bad having something positive come in the form of creating a song has been healing.

Product
When words failed me, music was the best way that I could express my thoughts, emotions and experiences. It helped me to make sense of them all, and at times, something that I wrote in a song would answer questions that I didn’t know I needed answered. As a child, I would often hear adults use the phrase, “Children should be seen and not heard,” and I took them at their word. I was bullied in primary school for having “too gay” a voice - whatever that meant. At the time, I didn’t even know what it meant to be gay. I knew I loved singing more than anything else, but for many years I was afraid to use my voice in the way that I was destined to.

Despite this, if I knew nothing else, I knew that I was called to this life to empower others through music.

We know that sound can heal the mind/body/soul. We know that music is universal. It transcends time and space, language, religion, ethnicity, gender and sexual orientation. As artists, we are able to connect with and unite such vast and diverse communities across the world. We are able to move and inspire others to persevere in the face of adversity, to celebrate in light of a special occasion, or to meditate on a sacred moment or memory. We create sonic time capsules if you will; small sanctuaries to revisit time and time again, if only for 3 minutes at a time. The people behind the music and the people in the midst of it, are the reason that I continue to proudly, audaciously and unapologetically express myself through music today as Product.

It is my wish that this freedom may be felt by all human beings and extend beyond a 3 minute ‘vibe’ to become a universal way of life. Just as I know to my core that empowering and uniting others through music is my purpose in this life, I know for sure that every soul on this earth deserves to be treated equally. It is my hope that every person who ever felt saved by their ability to express themselves through music be represented and celebrated equally within the music industry, and by fans alike.

Tony Aye
Music was the first place I felt truly myself. I would dance all around the house and sing while cleaning to the likes of Mariah Carey, Mary J. Blige and Whitney Houston. I remember making music videos in my mind from my bedroom, singing at the top of my lungs while walking my dog. Music was the first time I truly stood out at school, the first time I shined in a crowd , and the first time I found a way to love myself. It has been a friend, a muse, a partner, therapy, and so much more.

In the real world I had to hide and conform but through music I could live whatever fantasy my heart desired and no one could stop me. The likes of Michael & Janet Jackson, Usher, Beyonce, Bruno Mars, Britney Spears, John Legend helped me to believe in myself and be confident. And modern day artists like Demi Levato, Sam Smtih, Todrick Hall, and Lizzo helped me realize its never too late to be true to you. If it hadn't been for music I might not be the proud Gay Black Man that you see on the covers and photos. And I definitely would be just another lost story and voice in the crowd.

Where words fail, music speaks and I'm so glad that music took the time to speak to me so many years ago. It saved my life.

Boy Virgo
As a Queer person, music was definitely a defining feature in my life. I was always shy and timid but once I was introduced to music, I felt way more alive and confident with myself.

Music literally created the person I am today. I identified with these unique artists such as Lady Gaga and felt that was someone I wanted to be.

​Visibility and representation is extremely important. On my personal level, I’ve always wanted to see gay or more flamboyant men in pop music. More men who took chances and really went out their in music. I really wished that there were more artists like that.

I think as a whole topic though. There should always be diversity within the music industry whether that comes to sexuality or race. People deserve to turn on music and relate to the struggles of that person or just be able to say “I am similar to this person.” It’s what all humans want and deserve.

Alex Julia
It's hard for me to talk about but here's my story because I feel it is important. I came out at an early age end of middle school. I was forced to come out because my girlfriends mom and my mom had found out. I never realized the amount of shame people felt until that moment when my family found out. People started to treat me different. My family told me I was confused and just going through a phase instead of letting me figure things out for myself. They were in denial when I was well aware of who I was. I've been like this for a long time.

I decided to be brave and make it known to everyone at that time. Only close family and friends in school had known. It was such a huge relief when I realized the amount of love and acceptance from people. People had confided in me and told me how they had similar feelings of being young and misunderstood. How I had helped them understand themselves. This is when I realized being gay is nothing to be ashamed of. I decided to use these feelings to shine in my songs. I started venting and writing my heart out because I knew that love was beautiful. And that's how I became the songwriter I am today. There are still many people who don't accept me but I will unapologetically be myself.

​Just Shy
The beauty of music is that it can be whatever I need, whenever I need it!

​Music offers joy and solace; shared celebration and personal reflection. Having queer artists to look to for this assurance - whether long-standing icons like Pet Shop Boys, or newer favourites like Cub Sport and Rina Sawayama - gives me the confidence to express myself.

Writing music helps me articulate and clarify my own thoughts and feelings, and in turn I hope it offers joy and solace to others!

Jack Rua
I’ve often said that music is intrinsically part of my essence and my soul. When I was a kid, I sang before I spoke. When I was an adolescent and a teenager, performing allowed me to come out of my shell in a way that I couldn’t in every day life. As an adult, writing has become my new way of making sense of parts of myself and the world around me. Without my ability to absorb the music around me and transform it into my own, I don’t know where I’d be.
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I think that music is also one of the most powerful tools for changing the world. Historically, art has had the power to subvert society and inspire people to do better on a subconscious level. As queer musicians, it is our responsibility to carry on this mantle. We’re already the rebels and punks of this generation, we have to keep fighting the good fight and striving to inspire people to make the changes that are necessary in the world.

Yawny Blew
Music has been the greatest constant for me in life. As I've sorted through identities over the years, it's been music that has always helped me find a center and stay connected to my core. It's the one identity I've never been ashamed of.

​I started my recording career at 16, the same year I became aware of my sexuality. Growing up in New York City and navigating the urban scene, I “understood” very early on that my music and my lifestyle would forever be at odds. It's a struggle I lived with for over 10 years, and lead me to put myself and my music in the backseat and become a songwriter. I figured if I couldn’t tell my own story, I'll help tell someone else’s.

During that time, I discovered and rediscovered music from acts like Frank Ocean, Lizzo, RuPaul, Elton John and more. Through seeing them, I realized that my existence was valid. That my story needed to be told, and that the only way to honor music and what it’s done for my life is to create openly and unapologetically. The name YAWNYBLEW was created as a joke, something nonsensical that constantly reminds me to not take myself so serious, and only I have the power to define myself and my limits.

​This year I began releasing my own songs, and it's been such a blessing. My single “driveslow” speaks so clearly to my life and relationship to music. It’s a song about taking the time to discover yourself, on your own terms and in your own time. It's something music has allowed me to do over the years. Every one of my favorite songs and artists have helped me peel back the layers I built up so long ago. Music also brought me closer to my family, and helped me create a friend group of people who love me for me and encourage me to be myself every single day. I hope my music can help do this for others.

AlexZone
Music has always been the driving force in my life. It’s an escape when reality gets too tough, it’s a comfort when I just need to be held, and it also is the soundtrack to when I’m feeling like I’m on top of the world.
As a queer artist I want to provide those same moments and feelings but conveyed through a voice and face that others in the community can relate to.

I started doing music seriously right after my father, who was my best friend, passed away. I wanted to make songs that he would enjoy, like the music we listened to together.

I was blessed enough to have a father who supported me for exactly who I was. Blasting Kylie in the car with me, driving me across multiple state lines to see the Spice Girls, and dancing alongside of me at multiple Girls Aloud concerts in London. I never had to feel afraid of being myself when I was with him.
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I know not everyone has someone in their life who provides the same acceptance I received, so I would like to be that person for some, even if it’s only for a 3 minute and 30 song.

Izra Fitch
Being the ‘Izra Fitch’ artist is somehow the closest I feel to being who I really am on the inside. I think that correlates beautifully with being a queer person. You find parts of yourself that are truly you, all the shiny parts and vulnerable parts, and you share it with the world. It’s this stunning redemption of being unapologetically yourself after years of apologizing for it, you know?
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Being completely authentic and taking up space is thrilling, overwhelming and powerful. This year I have learned that over and over, in my career and in my personal life.

Jxckson
Music has sparked this sense of queer empowerment within me, and honestly, it caught me off guard. I’m naturally a shy person and it takes me some time to warm up. I’ve always admired confident artists that knew how to draw you in with just their sheer presence (i.e. the many pop divas that have started our own personal queer awakenings).
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This community has built my confidence up in such a way that I finally can clearly see myself. Do you know how important that is? Not only selfishly for myself, but what it represents and means for the incoming generation of artists. I really think about this a lot and pinch myself because somehow… someway… I feel like I found myself in the middle of a queer indie renaissance.

River Westin
Music has always been there for me in my life. It is the best form of escapism in the world. As a closeted queer kid growing up, I think I was afraid to be myself which made me very shy and independent. In school I’d often find myself alone at recess with my headphones in, letting music take me somewhere else.
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Now when I write my own music I think I unknowingly always try to do that for whoever is listening. I’m so happy that LGBTQ kids today are growing up in a world where they have more queer voices to show them they can be exactly who they are and still achieve their goals.

Bammie
Music is fuel to the soul. Music is a powerful entity. Without music, my life would be nonexistent, and by that, I mean music saved my life.

At an early age, my mother and grandmother had me singing in the church choir, taking piano lessons and also taught me how to play the saxophone. Music is in my blood. Growing up, yes I had and have so many musical influences, but I can honestly say, there was not many queer artists I looked up to because I do not recall any. But in this new wave of queer artists, I look up to so many of my peers, Godismikey and Noel Niks,to name a few.

The queer community’s representation in the music world has a dim light shined upon it but I love that I’ve discovered so many extraordinary talented LGBTQ artists. Though I am fairly new to the industry, through the constant love & support from my musical peers I’ve achieved such great heights so early on and I am forever grateful. No one is the same, we all have our own flat and it’s amazing.

Though we are still in dark times, I do see a slight progression with the inclusion of queer artists and I am so grateful to be able to have a part in changing history. My creative voice matters, your creative voice matters, and together we can change the world to become more accepting.

Fruut
Growing up, music helped me process, celebrate and evolve. And I love the idea that in being so open and honest in my music, I can help and inspire people like me, or anyone who wants to be as authentic as possible.

As a non-binary trans masc individual, representation is everything. It helped me become who I am and I hope I can help people be who they are.

Jon Campbell
The term “queer” to me is less a way of defining what is, but rather what isn’t: what isn’t straight, cis, binary, or heteronormative. Any attempts to categorize my sexual identity beyond that inevitably become sort of pitted against one another. There are exceptions and grey areas to each and every label I’ve tried on, and I’ve more or less gone through the whole wardrobe in trying to define my sexuality. Language fails us in this regard as queer people in that it reduces a broad spectrum of experiences into absolutist roles like the cis, straight and binary ones we’re set apart from.

Music succeeds where language falls short in carving out a space for ideas, thoughts and emotions that aren’t able to be contained within words alone. There are infinite shades of grey within even the simplest folk songs. Music offers limitless possibilities for us to create emotional environments which reflect our most complex internal landscapes. I think this is why so many queer people naturally gravitate towards music; it’s a language that allows us to more clearly navigate experiences which elude hardline, textbook definitions.

Of course, within that context there are also varying degrees of queerness in songwriting, and representation of all kinds is so important. I remember the first time I heard overtly gay lyrics when I listened to Morrissey’s “Bona Drag”, and it was like finding a hidden door behind a bookshelf. That door led to a whole other library. In the very homophobic climate of small town America in 1997 where and when I first heard it, that album was like a life preserver to my 15-year-old self. Listening to it, I felt like: “Ok, there is a space for me after all in this world. I think I’m gonna be Ok.”

Elina Filice
I used to be scared to use female pronouns in my music, and it still can be a little nerve wracking. At some point, I felt like I had a responsibility, to myself and my community, to be honest. I decided I needed to tell these stories honestly, and to pursue truth and sincerity.

Music's greatest power is its ability to connect people. I think music is a powerful tool for the queer community as it's a space for authentic queer storytelling and solidarity. Music has allowed me to share my stories and experiences and find pride in myself. I also hope to connect with other queer people and let them know that they're not alone.

Queer music creates a space to tell stories of resilience, pride, and authenticity, but also to share stories of love, loss, and heartbreak. It's an opportunity for the visibility and normalization of queer experiences.

Bobby Marks
I grew into my identity as a musician in half the time it took me to define my sexuality. Those years of self-discovery were spent listening to music every day, and I owe my confidence in being a queer person to the musicians I idolized growing up.

These were mostly female pop stars. On paper, our lives were nothing alike. I lived in a small suburb in upstate New York, they lived on tour busses and in LA mansions. However, they sang about topics that were all too real for me personally; attraction to boys, amassing self-confidence, persevering despite public scrutiny. It’s a narrative a shy gay kid in public school knows all too well. Avril Lavigne, Britney Spears, Katy Perry, Rihanna, and countless other pop singers filled my iTunes library with songs that spoke to me.

Music became my judgment-free escape from the boring and upsetting trappings of day-to-day life. It affected me so much that I didn’t just want to listen to these songs anymore, I wanted to make them myself. Being able to deconstruct my feelings in song made it easier to find my identity.

Today, I’m blown away by the amount of talented LGBTQ+ artists out there. It always excites me to hear about their inspirations and discover when we share the same idols. Music is the most powerful and motivating force I know, and it’s been the most important tool for me to navigate the world as a queer person.

Brandyn Killz
Where do I even begin? Music is life. It's like my air. There's easily a song for every single emotion I've ever felt. Music deepens my connection with everything in my life.
Growing up a QPOC, music was my escape. I didn't need anything besides a self-made dancefloor and a radio. I'd lose hours at a time, letting music create the world of my dreams. There, I wasn't so different from everyone else. There, I had nothing to hide.

There's something about a song that can merge worlds. Music is a connector. It's what I love most about it. There's nothing like hyping up a complete stranger to a song you both love... or seeing someone dancing without a care in their car at a red light. The energy is electric and contagious. Music did that!

Seeing Queer artists create a platform for themselves is incredibly inspiring. It's something I didn't feel like I had growing up, and that makes a world of difference to a young dreamer. There's a hope and acceptance when a road has been paved before you have to "ease on down" it. It not only sets the scene that "It Gets Better," but also that you can do it too.

Use your voice. Sing your song. Feel seen and heard!

TeawhYB
Without representation we are left with others to do the talking for us, that’s why it’s absolutely imperative for LGBTQA people to have a voice and visibility in pop culture.

​Not only for artists to have a platform, but for queer kids and teenagers growing up to have someone to look up to.

Billy Mick
I have always had such a great love of music! When I was a kid, while everyone else was playing outside, I was laying in front of a speaker playing my records.

I've always written songs and tried to start a career in music in the early 90's. Everyone I interacted with kept telling me "you will never have a career as an out, gay man" so I stopped all together. I would never pretend to be anything I am not. So I continued performing at theaters and theme parks.

Then in 2018, my husband and I attended Manchester Pride. They had the most diverse, loving community we had ever seen. They also had all of these different stages, each one with different singers and bands back to back, all day long. I thought, maybe it's time to be a singer and an out, gay man!
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My dream is to perform at Pride events across the globe!

Kele Fleming
Music has always been my passion and my salvation. As a teen, I discovered songwriting and began to find my voice. Finding my voice and pouring my heart and soul into my songwriting coincided with coming out.

​I spent my late teens at the local gay club, Rumours, in Victoria, BC. It was a key meeting place for the LGBTQ+ community. I felt free and accepted for who I was there.

Music was a big part of those many nights spent dancing to the lush and multi-layered music of 80’s pop bands like The Cure, Eurthymics and Joy Division. The pulse of the music, the melodies, the lights, the great clothes and hair and the sheer joy of us all joined together in the power of music and belonging had a huge impact on my songwriting. And, it still does today. You can hear some of those ‘80’s synth pop and queer club influences in the songs on my new album.

Peter Ngqibs
When I was a kid, I fell in love with music because it moved me to tears, to smiles, to booty bumping, to action, and so much more. As I grew older and paid attention to stories told through music, I never found one that I could connect with wholeheartedly because the storytellers didn’t look like me. At least not in South Africa.

One day, George Michael’s “Faith” was on TV and I wondered to myself: “why do I have a boner?” I was 10 years old when he came out. He was a lifeline. A white man in a country I had never been to gave me hope that someone out there was like me. Later Will Young and Mark Feehily would inspire me too.

Luther Vandross was the first black gay musician I heard about and I clung to his music. Todrick Hall had a huge impact on me. But it wasn’t until I discovered the stunning Nakhane Toure that I truly saw myself fully represented in the music industry. That was 2013.

Tolerance isn’t enough. People need affirmation. No kid should have to wait that long to see themselves represented in the world; especially in the arts where all we do is express ourselves and offer reflection.

This is why I love telling stories and offering empowering messages through my songwriting.

Brian Falduto
Music is a cool thing for many reasons, one being that it often provides a voice for the unspoken. Music has been the vehicle that has allowed me to share the thoughts & feelings that I had always been afraid to put out into the world.

Before music, so much of the story I was telling myself about the world lived hidden in the deep corners of my brain while I went along with how others viewed the world. When you finally get those lyrics out that express your truth .. if they are truly truthful, they will be truthful for someone else as well. This pattern of sharing & receiving one's truth creates a validating connection for people & the internal experiences they are having. Except then, the experiences are no longer internal; they're now out there as shared pieces of music that everyone can sing along to.

So in a way, music, in & of itself, carries with it a normalization process that is needed for those who feel unseen & underrepresented. I feel music has the potential to create an impact on how the queer community is seen from the outside looking in but also, & perhaps even more importantly, on how we see ourselves.

Sibuor
My name is Sibuor and it is a Kenyan name that means lion or inner strength.

Music has kept me alive. There hasn’t been a day in my life that I have not dreamed of being a successful musician. I started playing piano when I was four. My teacher couldn’t handle a super energetic kid so I stopped after about a year. But the piano never let go of me and I got back into it in my teens.

Growing up in Durban, an uber conservative city in South Africa, meant that a skinny and offbeat kid like myself had to find ways to survive. I didn’t have many friends as a kid, so music became a way for me to fill this gap and protect myself. I would spend hours daydreaming that I was Tina Turner, Madonna, or Tori Amos as a way to keep my soul alive.

But I kept these dreams to myself because being a performer was not an option for a nice South African Jewish boy. I was super insecure and shy and hid so much of myself from the world. But my rebellious side kicked back.

I went to an ultra conservative all boys high school and came out in my second-last year. I used every trick that I’d learned from Madonna about fighting back and causing a sensation. It was wonderful to ruffle so many feathers and it kept me strong in such a homophobic atmosphere.
But still, I kept my dreams to myself.

After university, I went into politics and, for a time, I let go of music. I spent several years languishing in political circles, trying to fit in. But it became too hard to keep up anymore and I realized that I needed a drastic change, otherwise my life would amount to nothing.

Music came back to me with a bang. I’ve been a musician for five years now and have never regretted it, not once. It energizes me and that gives me incredible resilience.

So My Music Story is one of survival and now thriving.

Tom Goss
Music is the universal unifier. As we get older, we work to protect ourselves from the world. We  don't want to be hurt, so we build walls to hide away. We feel like outsiders and believe ourselves to be the only people who feel a certain way. Then...

A song pops up that describes exactly how we feel. The music, lyrics and emotion behind them breaks us open and makes us vulnerable again. We are transported to a world where feelings are good, vibrant and always celebrated. It is in that moment when we realize we are more alike than different, more a part of something than excluded, and more beautiful than we ever imagined.

Torrey Mercer
Being LGBTQ+ was not something I was always aware of. I grew up in a Catholic household with two Catholic parents. I went to Sunday school, and Bible study every week until I was 15 years old. I had years where I thought I was just a "strong ally" to the community, fighting for LGBTQ+ rights, gay marriage, etc,  while not realizing my own queerness. 

I was a music artist before I realized my LGBTQ+ identity. The first music I ever made had some Christian themes in it, and was focused on being against bullying, body image, etc. All of that led me to where I am now. I am proud to be queer. And I am especially proud of the way that the community has come together to support each other in music, and the arts as we express stories about our experiences.

​I have received messages from people who have told me that the music I have made helped them to come out...I am still stunned, and humbled by knowing this. That is one of the greatest honors someone could ever give you... identifying with your art so much, that they use it in such a personal way in their life. I really believe that queer music, LGBTQ+ music representation as a whole is vital. It can really save people's lives to see someone like them represented in media, and art. 

Sev7en Taylor
Music has always been a part of my life. I remember dancing to Beyoncé’s videos when my mom would leave for work; I remember dreaming of one day meeting Michael Jackson. I used to pen songs at the age of 9 and write out fake album titles; always one day dreaming and hoping I can contribute to this culture.

Four mixtapes- one debut album and a bridge EP - soon a deluxe project later — here I am. Music has given me NOTHING BUT LIFE. Nothing but meaning — in every sense of the word.

When I came out ( 2014 era) I seen Cakes Da Killa and so many profound queer rap artists. They helped crack open the door and I’m looking to break that door down. Reverse the curse we live in.
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I want to look back on my catalogue in admiration that I was always my true authentic self. I’m opening doors for the next black queer rap boys in line. And honey, we got some work to do.

Ripley
Music for me has always been about protest. It's been about using my voice to raise awareness of injustice and hold those in power to account.

Right now, my songs are aimed squarely at the establishment, the patriarchy and the mega-systems like Amazon, Facebook and Google. I think as a queer person, my experience of these things is different, I'm already on the outside looking in. These systems exist to keep people like me out and on the fringes. Music helps me process these feelings in a way that feels liberating.

Queer music right now is incredibly diverse, rebellious, experimental- everything that our right wing governments despise, and that’s why this scene is so vital and so goddam brilliant.

Zach Benson
When I was first discovering my sexuality, music was the reason I was able to formulate my own feelings into words. Frank Ocean gave me that power when he sang about wrestling with emotions towards another man on "Bad Religion". Troye Sivan gave me that power when he posted his coming out video and started writing music about his identity.

Slowly discovering more and more queer artists, who are unabashedly themselves in their music and public personas, have given me the power to be more vulnerable, more queer in my own expression.
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What I love the most about the queer music spaces I've found over the last year or two is that we're constantly giving each other that same power. I'm constantly inspired by artists who are unequivocally themselves, who are vulnerable and experimental in their expressions. I hope that I'm able to give some power to other queer kids who need it.

Ryan Cassata
Music is my outlet. It's my passion. It's my love. Writing is how I feel the most like myself. Listening to other people's music let's me relate, process, and have fun. Music is everything to me.

It's important for there to be queer representation in the mainstream music industry. I really wish that we had more of it. These indie blogs that are blasting out LGBTQ artists are doing a major service. I wish more major outlets would follow. They are starting too at least.

Music has always been important to me. I started playing music when I was 6, I was 12 when I started writing. It's always been my love. It's been what has made me feel the most me, it's allowed me to see beyond my queer identity. It's humanizing.

Dareo Knott
A true artist knows that their best work comes from their deepest and rawest life experiences. It’s a shame that so much of the industry gains profits from exploiting this catharsis. However, being black and gay in the pop industry it is kind of a love-hate relationship. You have to make yourself marketable, niche and relatable, all these impossible standards we hold ‘celebrities’ to for our own entertainment values. It can’t just be about the music and the artistry in this era.

As a black pop singer, trying to make it in the industry, there’s a huge obstacle to overcome that nobody else has to worry about going into this field and that is defying the imbedded stereotype of what a pop star should be and and what a black persons place in the industry should be. So when I talk about visibility I have to discuss the lack of black pop stars, my journey, my story will be about going against those odds, defeating the way people see pop music and who can be a pop star. It’s time to let us people of colour show, we can do so much more, and be so much more than what is seen in fiction.

Yavin
As a queer person, music has always been a crucial part of my upbringing. Sometimes when you're growing up queer it can be really easy to feel misunderstood, and so I've always felt lucky to have had so many artists that have vocalized what I've felt through their art. With that being said, it's not lost on me that so many generations before mine haven't been so lucky.

I didn't necessarily grow up with as many queer faces in media as there are now, but I certainly had some, and to me that was just enough to help get me through navigating my own identity. That's why representation is so important, and why it needs to be a more central part of our global discussion. Putting a name to a face can be such a powerful thing when it comes to determining someone's humanity.

That's a depressing thing to say, but it's the sad truth. There's over 7 billion people in the world, and only a handful of them control the types of people that we all get to see. That kind of limited media not only controls progress, it stifles it. If we can allow more types of people to be front & center putting their work, creativity, talent, *humanity* out there for the world to see, we'll be able to see more minds & systems change. That's why I work so hard at progressing my own career.
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I don't just want my own face to be seen, I want to help other people's faces be seen as well. We deserve it, and the world needs it.

Jay Long
Art is how you communicate your deeper self. I can’t talk to you eloquently about what it’s like inside my head... there aren’t words for things like that; however I can do my best to show you, so we can relate. Music has allowed me to take internal things and externalize them... Personify my demons so I can look at them, and give them less power. Music has allowed me to digest myself in clearer ways. This has made me a more self aware and confident person. This has also been the truth of my relationship with music since I was a child.

At four years old, I heard an orchestra for the first time at school, then came home and told my parents I wanted to play the violin. They agreed, and now I teach string instruments for a living. I have worked with hundreds of youth, passing on the beauty of expression and freedom in music.
In discovering my queerness, I discovered my real artistry.

Expressing my deeper self garnished more meaning and clarity. Being visible in your queerness through art and expression gives wings to the idea for young people that “maybe someone is just like me... maybe I will be okay one day...” I am proud to be queer in all aspects of my life. I am blessed to be able to remind kids it is powerful to be who you really are. To explore and express yourself.
Nearly every time I’ve had the chance to play a live show, I am lucky enough to meet someone that tells me one of my songs spoke to them. That they heard a bit of themselves in what I expressed and I am astonished. It is the deepest connection I can create between myself and others, and it feels like equality in any room. We, in our own individual ways, feel the same things.

Before I came out, music and theatre allowed me to perform as my real self before I could do it in public. Now, I have created a life for myself where all of those things can come together. Music has allowed me to do that, and in that right saved my life on many different levels. I am grateful to continue finding myself through this medium, and I hope one day to be a proper Queer role model for my community.

Gattison
Music is liberation. The memories of my first “secular” (non Christian) album are so clear and vivid. I remember the tension I felt from the tug of war between my religious upbringing that said anything other then Christian music was sinful and my curiosity of this new inescapable girl group called Destiny’s Child. I can’t tell you how many times I went back and forth in my head about whether I should listen to this or not. My only exposure to “secular” music was at work from the radio that my coworkers would play and that’s when I “overheard” their first single “No No No”. Every time that song came on I felt a different side of me open up and to be honest it was a little scary. After listening for a few seconds the shame would come rushing in and I would tune their beautiful voices out.

This went on for a while but after so many cycles of this same process each time I listened was becoming longer and longer. Eventually I found myself purchasing their album and listening to it front to back! I sang at the top of my lungs, I danced like I had never danced before and I found a piece of myself that was hidden away. I discovered the part of myself that had been silenced. I unearthed a part of me that didn’t degrade my faith but actually allowed there to be depth and nuance. Listening to music made me feel so...free...I felt like I could breathe...I felt liberated. Music liberated me. Music IS and music has taught me to BE.

Blake English
Growing up under the restraints of a conservative Christian environment in Athens, Georgia the notion of me being queer was something I didn’t discover until I was 14. It wasn’t that I didn’t know I was “different”, it was that the idea I might be gay wasn’t even in my scope of understanding.

Luckily, I had help guiding me to find the most authentic version of myself. That help came in the form of some of my favorite performance artists. When I was 10, I saw the movie Labyrinth and fell in love with David Bowie. I actually don’t think I would be pursuing an artists path if it wasn’t for him. When I was 12 I was introduced to The Rocky Horror Picture Show and have been enamored with Frank N. Furter ever since. Lady Gaga is another one that has pushed me to be the best and most authentic version of myself, holding me not only high standards for art but high standards of being a human. Without these phenomenal characters in music, I would not be where I am today and I think that can be said for A LOT of people.

Music, I think, is one the most influential mediums of communication we share as a human race. It can transport us back in time. It can inspire us for the future. Most importantly though, I think it brings us to the present moment. When I was younger and angry at just about everything going on in my life, I would drive around in my car and blast My Chemical Romance . With them, I never felt alone in my thoughts and feelings. That’s why it’s so important to continue to share stories through music that represent all walks of life. It relates us to one another and gives that kid growing up in Athens, Georgia a chance to feel like somewhere out there, there are people just like them

Brooklyn Doran
Music began as my outlet. Anytime I felt an extreme emotion, I usually tried to work out how I was feeling with writing music or poetry. Finding different ways to put what I was going through into words helped me uncover truths that I had been keeping secret from myself.

Music helped me discover who I am as a person. I would listen to incredible singer-songwriters and feel like they were singing my own thoughts and experiences back to me directly; and being able to grow into myself as an artist and speak to that one ‘weird’ kid in every small town in a meaningful way, is really fulfilling to me as an artist.

Aman Dhesi
Music to me is about identity.

Growing up I identified with artists that spoke about being silenced by a world conditioning them to believe that being themselves is wrong. I admired music artists that courageously expressed their true selves through their music. It gave me permission to embrace myself and come into my own.

I’ve had people in my own circle criticize me for being ‘too queer’ and ‘unnecessarily LGBT’ with my music. In the past I would have buckled under the pressure but I realize that being unapologetically true to myself is the ultimate path towards self-love.

Music, and being a music artist, helped me find the courage to stand my ground and love myself in a way that I have never allowed before.

I think back to the confused kid I once was. I wish I could have seen more of myself in the artists I looked up to. My hope is to see more artists send a message that it is ok to be yourself and to never shy away from loving who you are.

NEO10Y
Music is the most important medium of self expression. I think it’s a human right to make your own songs and have your own soundtrack during your existence on this planet. Making my own songs has allowed me to express myself as the non-binary, pansexual, polyamorous being that I am but also to connect with a higher consciousness that gives me hope for the future.

In a society built on violence to queer people, it’s really important that artists like us exist to show future generations that it’s possible to be yourself.

I didn’t have any representation for people like me in the media when I was a kid, so it makes me happy to see a new generation of queer music artists breaking the glass ceiling.

Growing up, music was escapism, a chance to feel part of something bigger and a way to express myself, evolving into making my own songs has been part of my personal and spiritual growth.

If I ever need to feel inspired and connected to the universe, I listen to my songs.

Matthew Presidente
Music defines me and my music tells my story.

Growing up in the 90s was a wonderful time to discover my queer identity as a musician. Coming off of the 80s with the cool industrial dance pop of Depeche Mode & the cure into the era of grunge and alternative music helped me discover my inner rebel and offered a voice to channel my energy. Listening to this music guided me to shape my identity growing up as a queer person.

When I started making my own music I felt it was important to make it personal, to tell my story. This is why I make music from a queer perspective. It’s genuine, it’s personal and it’s me.

Natalia Malone
Two years ago, I was writing a new song, about enjoying the warmth and affection, or “calor y cariño” (in Spanish), from a woman. There was only one line that explicitly said it: “esa mujer” or “that woman.” Up until then, for fans who didn’t really know me, I was straight-passing. It crossed my mind that it would be easier if I changed that line. Less questions, more open doors. But I couldn’t stomach that. So instead, I turned that part into the bridge of the song where I repeat “esa mujer” over and over (seven times, to be exact), and I love it. I also love that it’s now my “if you don’t know, now you know 🌈” song.

When I send the song to playlist curators or share it with industry professionals, the top critique for those that don’t like it is “the lyrics” ... but interestingly I haven’t had that critique from any queer people. A friend said it would be a really interesting experiment to have a man sing my song and send it to the same people. Maybe I should, and expose the results to open up conversation!

But for me, the bottom line is the industry and a lot of people in it are scared of investing in music that is openly queer. They are scared of homophobic fans and mold to that. They are more ok with it if it’s coming from an artist who is already established and bringing in $$$. This also goes by genre. Some genres are more open to queerness than others.

I want young people to have music to dance to, in this case a song with a reggaetón/dancehall beat, that also frees them to be themselves, whatever sexuality or gender expression that may be. More queer representation in music helps young queer people, and ALL queer people, feel valid, seen, and not alone. It’s a mental health issue. It’s a public health issue. Let’s keep pushing! ✨🌈⚡️

Florian Rose
​Music has been a companion for as long as I can remember. It helped me throughout my teenage years to figure myself out, and it still does, it’s like a mirror in which I can reflect what’s going on inside and put it into words.

I started making my own music fairly recently, out of the feeling that my side of the story as a person, part of the lgbtq+ and the imagery I’m developing is worth showing. It’s a way for me to share them, channel my emotions, create storylines of stolen experiences I wish I’d lived but couldn’t and come to terms with the ones I did go through.

I'm a South American boy who grew looking up to big stars from foreign countries. I didn't feel like I fitted too much anywhere, and I was always the “weird kid” cause I was dainty, didn’t like sports or the straight boy's music on the radio, so I found my idols among irreverent, sassy women. Artists like Lady Gaga, Katy Perry and others, never shunned talking about the lgbtq+ community and their own experiences with their sexuality. That was crucial when I was trying to build myself up being part of a minority that's been having their experiences obscured for far too long. They opened up a space for us, and now that I’m older I think it’s time to make it our own. To say things from our point of view, to demand accurate representation and be out there shining as only we know how. Strong, delicate, fierce, sensitive, whatever color suits you the most, it’s up to you!

This last months I’ve been so moved by the amazing community developing around lgbtq+ music that I found… or more like they found me. I’ve met people I’ve longed for so long, and I’m starting to feel like I can be part of something bigger, that I can contribute and inspire even if it’s just one person at a time.
If you’ve kept reading this far, I hope you’re safe and able to be your true self 🌹.

Tommy Atkins
As I grew up and into my queerness, music validated my feelings. When I heard songs of love and heartbreak that I related to, it didn’t matter if the singer was “straight” or “queer” – what mattered was that we had felt the same things. It proved to me that love is love – that those feelings are the same, no matter who is involved.

Growing up however, I didn’t see a truly positive representation of an LGBTQ+ artist in country music. In the rare event an artist came out, there was backlash. Or they only felt comfortable coming out well after their commercial peak, as radio and record labels would have abandoned them. Therefore, I never entertained the idea of being an openly gay artist myself. I’d decided to become a songwriter and pitch the majority of my songs to female artists, as so many of them were about men. And that’s why visibility is so important – if any group of people don’t see themselves in a genre of music, or in literature or in films, they will never truly feel like they belong or that their stories are valid.

I hope that my career, no matter how big or small the impact, will help prove that queer artists and people belong in country music; that our stories matter. Music is my go-to - my therapist and my confidante - and I know that’s the case for many people. I hope I can be a positive representative for our community in country music and that my songs help someone feel a little less alone.

CPIII
For most of my life, I’ve been told that who I am is wrong: as an artist, as a black man, and as a gay man.

It took time to heal from this, and that journey is reflected in my music. Singing has been my saving grace and my chosen tool for radical self-love.

My music is a celebration of all that I am, and it’s used to bring people who are like me together. Music is everything.

Glass Battles
Growing up and knowing you’re different from others is probably one of the most isolating and ironically relatable facets of this life we have. On top of always being a little left of center with the way I saw the world, I also struggled to come to terms with my sexuality when I was much younger, lamenting why there was yet ANOTHER thing that people may find strange or unlikable.

As a white man in this industry I do understand that I still had and have it so much easier than many based on my inherent privileges alone, but my experience as a queer person with strange tastes in art and crippling anxiety as I got older wasn’t particularly pleasant. The late 90’s were extremely formative for me, as they promoted standing out from the general masses, not falling prey to the idea of being ‘popular’ and generally just the weirder the better. Artists like NIN, Prince, No Doubt, Janet Jackson, Hole, Queen Latifah, and my favorite Garbage really helped me come into my own, at least from an energetic perspective.Art is so healing, and music is so universal.

The queer community has really risen to the occasion in terms of building a repertoire that covers so many bases, and I think if there’s one thing we can all agree on in terms of how we see the world, it’s that it’s better to be different. It’s beautiful to stand out, and it’s important to help others find that strength and confidence in an age where likes and shares and subscriptions sometimes take precedence over expressing yourself authentically.

As artists, it’s our job to create a safe space. As a member of the queer community, I am so honored to have the influences that have brought me to this place, and I hope I can continue be a part of this beautiful, evolving, and multi-faceted community.

Karmaa
KARMAA is only a small part of who I am and was brought here to be. Music has been a part of who I am since I can remember. It's like breathing for me. Whether I'm listening to the radio, creating music myself, or even thinking of lyrics, music just stays in circulation mentally for me. It's how I communicate my deepest thoughts, my every goal, and my biggest fears. I am a big advocate for mental health awareness, equality and paying it forward.

I intend to be a difference maker and a leader of change. I've never been one to stick to the rules and have never been one to follow the crowd. I was raised to be who I am and to be proud of it. My ultimate goal is to inspire the uninspired and change lives by being able to relate to others and talk about "taboo" topics that others don't like to or won't acknowledge and speak on such as being queer, battling depression and anxiety, having had suicidal thoughts, etc.

Being part of the LGBTQ community I want those discovering themselves to know they're not alone. This has heavily influenced many of my songs and is a known fact about me. I want people to know that it's okay to be proud of who you are and love yourself. Show your pride and never be ashamed of it. Live and love your life, love yourself and others shamelessly, and embrace who you are. There's only one you, flaunt it.

Andrew Neal
As a queer non binary artist, music is THE most important thing to me. It’s my opportunity to scream and cry and celebrate and laugh and love and hate everything all at once in one song.

It’s the ability to pour all of myself out when it just gets to full inside. And the most important part is how my music represents the queer stand point, the queer struggle and the queer rise to the top. Music supports me as a person , as an artist, as a lover and as a friend.

Music holds me and kisses me and loves me when it seems like no one else does. Music never lets me down and music will never wonder what’s wrong with me. Music will never ask me to change.

A'Biggs
In 2015 I was living with a homophobic parent. When I tried to come out they pleaded with me not to accept my sexuality. I was told to just pray and my desires would be changed. I was confused, exhausted, and lonely. I needed an outlet and a distraction so I learned to play the guitar and started to write songs.

I wrote sad songs, I wrote uplifting sings, I wrote songs about my struggles and I wrote songs about my strength. I wrote songs for my future self, knowing that I would need to be reminded often of who I truly am in order to survive. The more music I made the stronger I became.

I survived years in that environment by expressing my truth through my music. Now the music that I make celebrates my liberation. My greatest hope is that I can help someone who is in need of that reminder of who they are by allowing them to see their self represented in my music.

Bright Light Bright Light
Just like in TV, film or fashion, seeing someone who looks like you, or talks about your experience is so important. Lots of young LGBTQ+ people, especially those rurally or in small towns, grow up feeling lost. I know when I was young, I didn’t see anyone I identified with, as even the out gay men were fantastical, confident, flamboyant creatures very far from my insecure “normal” self. Giving visibility to a more diverse range of LGBTQ+ figures in music, and particularly creating space for those less famous is crucial so that everyone in our community can see that they belong, and that there are others out there doing things that they aspire to do.

​It’s our responsibility to amplify voices, show young LGBTQ+ people that they ALL have a voice and ALL belong, and fight to represent the under-represented who do the work, who make the work, and who also have the power to inspire countless others. It’s so important to stop anyone thinking that there’s “one way to be queer”, “one way to be a marketable LGBTQ+ musician”, that you can be “too gay” or “not queer enough”. Those prejudices exist and they need to be tackled, and in my opinion the best way to do that is to share the work of everyone you love and are inspired by so the world can see them.

Hayden McHugh
Music allows me to live my own full fantasy, no matter where I am. I remember feeling isolated growing up, unsure of where I fit in; but I always knew that when I put my headphones on, I would be transported to a whole new world where I could be whoever I wanted to be.
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The fact that I am able to be a front for every queer kid out there brings me the utmost joy because I remember struggling to understand my various feelings as a kid, and recognizing my perspective in songs by girls about boys more than I did with boys singing about girls. Now I am able to make queer music, but also music that isn't intended to be anything but just a fun bop. While everything we do is a statement and we need to use our voices to raise people up, it's nice that sometimes my statement can be "I like a cute guy" and that's that.

Music is important to me because it allows me to express myself in ways that I've never felt before, and also because I know that the combination of rhythm, tempo, and chords speak a language that everyone can understand.

Bronze Avery
As a QPOC, our stories can inspire other people to come forward and feel comfortable living their truth. When I was growing up, I didn’t have the ability to hear stories outside of the perspective of the heteronormative mainstream and with how much queer music is coming forward, it’s been truly beautiful to get our voices out there so that other people in our community can come forward without fear.
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I truly believe change in our society starts with change in our media. Art has the power to influence the mind, and without queer representation in our larger media outlets, the world will treat us as if we’re invisible.

J GRGRY
Music is a crucial lifeline for so many queer people, for so many reasons. I can remember seeing Kurt Cobain in a dress on stage and holding back tears as I felt for the first time in my life, someone with power was standing up for me.

Seeing LGBTQIA+ people healthy, happy, and thriving as musicians is so important. For many of us, we have strained or severed relationships with biological families. We have little or no positive role models and self worth erodes without nurturing, hopeful environments. Music has given me hope and joy I never thought possible, before it.
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I am so grateful not only for the career it has brought me but for the community. The sense of family I was missing has been replaced by something so rich and so true I can't help but champion the importance of LGBTQIA+ representation in mainstream music.🤎🖤🎶

Travie Austin
Music is one of the most important parts of my life and is a large chunk of my identity. Every amazing or traumatic event in my life is connected to music in a way. I can hear a melody or a lyric from a song and have it immediately trigger a memory for me, good or bad.

I think queer voices in music have been such an unrecognized part of my generation and generations before me. It brings me so much joy to see us empowering ourselves now as a community to really live in our true identities and voices in a industry that has not only heavily benefited from us, but also hid us away for so long.

As a black queer musician, I have to navigate an industry that tries to put me in a “gay/queer?' box, what that means to them, while also being put in a “black-R&B/Hip-Hop” box . My entire goal is make the music that I want to make that I feel represents me, and it may sound like Pop one day and R&B the next.

Queer musicians are taking their long-awaited spotlight and while it’s happening, I want to really drive it home that “queer” isn’t a monolith. Each and every one of us has a different and unique sound. So get ready for a rainbow colored buffet.

Katie Tich
Music has been a driving force in my life since I was very young. I started writing songs to cope with the powerful emotions that came with growing up as a closeted queer teen, and channeling my inner turmoil into artistry helped me learn how to use healthy emotional outlets.

Now, my goal is to spread love through songs that promote openness and acceptance. My hope is that my music helps others realize that they’re not alone, whether they’re queer, questioning, or struggling with other emotional experiences in any stage of life.

I truly believe that music has the power to heal and bring all folx together. And especially right now, remember that BLACK LIVES MATTER, BLACK QUEER LIVES MATTER, and BLACK TRANS LIVES MATTER 🖤❤️🧡💛💚💙💜💖

Let’s use music as a way to bring us together and help stand up against the injustices in the world!!

Zee Machine
Listening to and creating music is where my queerness becomes my superpower. When I saw Freddie Mercury command a stadium with just a movement of his hand and a smirk or heard someone like Mika shriek his flamboyant falsetto unabashedly into the stratosphere during a time when pop felt very void of any strong queer presence, it felt like I was being shown a possibility and being given permission. They seemed invincible.

Seeing queer people proudly and joyously being themselves is immensely powerful, often in ways you don’t even realize at the time. I just want to be that person for someone by showing them what’s possible when you embrace your queerness as your strength.

This can be a very grueling industry to try and make your own space in, especially as a queer person, but having someone message me after a set I played at Omaha pride saying I had inspired them to publicly come out as gender fluid made the struggle and the numbers game of the business feel worth it.

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