Looking for new music to love? How about some slightly alternative faves from less played artists this LGBTQ+ History Month?
Due to drop on Valentine’s Day, Phem’s flying the purple flag with this firm, electro-refusal to be put in anyone’s box as prerequisite of identifying as Queer: “I think that I’m an alien/ I don’t know who I am/ Some days I love my women /Some days I say, “Hey, what’s up man?” I don’t know where I’ve been/ But I know where I’m going/ If you wanna come along, Yeah, I’m going, I’m going…” Think I’ll go too, to live that box-free existence. Thanks modernity.
Ahem, reminding us all where the bulk of our vernacular and trends originate – the gay scene, baby! Borrowed phrases like “On fleek”, the contouring phenomenon, and those ubiquitous tight jeans that many fashion -and, common– senseless, high school sneerers, jeerers and hateful-of-queerers, swore off to begin with, do get old really fast as after going mainstream, receiving a little reverse-Midas touch.
The 2010’s has spawned many a gay or lesbian hip-hop star, causing critics to wax lyrically and report often erroneously on the ‘first’ lgbtq+ rapper to make an impact on mainstream music; only for the fans to grow frustrated to see said artist retreat into obscurity without so much as a chance to make even a dent in whichever list of world’s most influential people… Still this 2013 Horrorcore meets Paris is Burning masterpiece will get you geared up to throw a well-directed punch at whichever asshole bigot is getting your goat; if only in the mind, or through the headphones…
We certainly have a lot to thank New York for, but this ain’t one for the club-centric. The Lady Gaga comparisons are a compliment to the soul-healing, blues vocals of Riff Raff’s frontwoman Alynda Segarra; to see the same stellar career trajectory would be awesome. Very country, very idyllic, a very essential reminder that however invisible, lesbian songstresses can and do flourish regardless of ethnicity or genre.
NSFW; NSWF but it’s Peaches. Early 2000’s pop was a lonely, lacklustre era for pushing so-called boundaries around “non-conventional” sexuality. If you didn’t want your girlfriend to be a restrained kinda ‘Hot’ endorsed by the likes of the Pussycat Dolls; but of a blisteringly fearless caliber, taking a rather more progressive approach to woman’s sexuality dripping with all its witchy potential; frankly you were glad of Peaches’ crotch in your face. In bearded drag, or labia-skimming leotard, she whose not afraid to “lap-up a Venus” or “feel up my back” (2006’s The Teaches of Peaches), Peaches resurfaced in 2015 to fling more idiosyncratic anarchy at gender norms.