Shura discusses post lock-down anxiety, becoming a muscle mommy, 5-a-side with Leah Williamson and teasing her first album in six years.

WORDS EMILY CAMERON
PHOTOGRAPHY SOPHIE WILLIAMS
DESIGN JACK ROWE

When I get on my Zoom call with Shura I’m immediately mortified by my setup – a grainy MacBook camera, grim lighting and a messy bedroom in the background embarrassingly juxtaposed to Shura’s HD top-left camera angle and ring light. The perils of interviewing someone who became a streamer during the pandemic, I guess. 

A lot has changed for Shura since her last album, 2019’s forevher – and not just the streaming. Having made a name for herself in 2015 with songs about heartbreak and sad-girl sapphic longing like ‘Touch’ and ‘2Shy’, forevher was about falling in love. Now, after six years, a brief career as a pro Twitch streamer, and an internal struggle with with mental health and isolation, her new album, I Got Too Sad For My Friends, bravely shines a light on those parts of ourselves we turn away from, feelings of shame and selfishness around our mental health. Crucially, IGTSFMF seeks to soothe and soften those strains while you find a way out. Filled with cuttingly emotive expressions of loneliness and isolation, it addresses difficult feelings from a position of love and positivity. This record lets you be the little spoon, it’s the fabulously sapphic image of sitting in an armchair ‘with a cat sitting on your lap’.

Part therapy, part cultural digest, our conversation ranged between topics like isolation, having a brick for a brain, delayed gratification, fancying video game characters and becoming a muscle mommy. 

There’s a lot going on in the album artwork: the armour, the mountains, the gremlins, the Kurt Cobain fit… What were some of the influences feeding into it?

I sort of joke that it’s giving Joan of Arc top, and then Ellie from The Last Of Us bottom. I think that the first sort of obvious one is a game I played called Baldur’s Gate 3, which took over my life. I just sort of fell in love with the idea of myself as this slightly chaotic gnome Bard.

I had also just read The Little Prince and was absolutely devastated by it, like this is not a children’s book. There’s this really striking image of him stood on top of a mountain range, and then the themes of the record are anxiety, loneliness and sadness and feeling myself disappearing. Obviously, Baz Lurman’s Romeo + Juliet is also in the back of my mind there. I think there’s almost not a lesbian on the planet who hasn’t at some point wanted to dress up as Leonardo DiCaprio in that film.

[In the album artwork] I’m ready to fight against these monsters or demons or whatever it is that I encounter, except my armour is nowhere useful, I’m not covering any vital organs. The idea is that the monsters are kind of not really there – they’re part of your internal world.

In the title and throughout the album, you address really difficult and familiar feelings directly. How did it feel to turn and face those feelings?

It’s true that extreme emotions make it easy to write, but part of my experience of being sad and alone actually meant I couldn’t write at all. Of course, that started with the pandemic. I was discombobulated that I couldn’t listen to music.

I remember calling my friend Pip [the singer-songwriter Ladyhawke] and just being like, ‘Pip I can’t write’. I remember saying, ‘I feel like my brain is a brick. It’s just solid. Nothing is – there’s no movement in there’. And I remember them saying, ‘Shu, I felt like this so many times. You will absolutely write music again, do not worry about this’. And that was really comforting, actually, to hear from someone who is a friend and who I respect. So initially quite difficult. Once I knew I had enough songs to be like, ‘Oh, an album is happening,’ it was a lot easier. 

You mention the lockdown era and the difficulties which you faced then as an artist. I remember you pivoting to streaming during that era – why? 

I started streaming video games on Twitch in the pandemic as a way to stay connected with fans that felt less strange to me than playing music to an empty room on Instagram Live. I also tried the Instagram Live route but it just felt alien to me since so much of performing is an exchange of energy between the audience and the person performing.

There’s not a lesbian on the planet who hasn’t at some point wanted to dress up as Leonardo DiCaprio in Romeo + Juliet.

This album explores the unglamorous side of mental health, and I think a lot of people are going to relate. I don’t want this to feel like therapy but is there anything you would like people to take from it?

I do hope that it brings people comfort, but I also actually hope it brings people joy in the process. Musically there’s definitely some less joyful [moments] but, overall, it’s quite joyful and warm. I hope it’s like an armchair for people to curl up in with a cat sitting on their lap, where they can stare wistfully out of the window and cry, or maybe also feel excited about the future.

I can see that mix of emotions in the song “World’s Worst Girlfriend”. It hits you with very difficult lines like “maybe I got too sad for my friends” but it’s followed with the hyperbolic, almost comedic, “I don’t wanna be the world’s worst girlfriend”. 

And you can see the merch, right? I was like, I need to wear a cap with World’s Worst Girlfriend on it. 

How did the musical side of the album come into being?

I think the first record that I really could listen to after I had that period of not being able to write, not being able to listen, was An Overview on Phenomenal Nature by Cassandra Jenkins [who features on I got too sad for my friends]. It felt like an armchair record and I was so comforted by it.

I’d made a decision to make an album that was the type of record I wanted to listen to. I wanted it to kind of spoon me. I wanted to be spooned. I wanted to be little spoon. We made a decision to record this live with musicians in one room, playing all together in takes, which I’d never done before. I remember the first day of recording and setting up in The Pool [recording studio] in London and just being really overwhelmed by emotion and on the verge of tears a lot of the time, partly because I almost never thought I’d be here [recording music] again.

Let’s talk about the soaring ethereal lead single about staying in, ‘Recognise’. Was that always going to be the first single? 

Yes, and then no, and then yes. I wanted it to kind of lead people and welcome people, to make people a little bit excited, a little bit unsure. I love being a bit of a troll at this stage of the record, I’m a big believer, for myself, in deferred gratification. I’m always the last person to open their Christmas presents. I like knowing something good is coming. So this is like my peak, where I’m the most mean to my fans ever. I like the idea of kind of, yeah, drawing [my fans] in and making them excited, but also not letting them know where we will go from here.

A little bird told me you’re becoming a muscle mommy…

So I thought it was going to happen really quickly. But, it turns out, getting muscles takes so long and you have to eat so much chicken. At one point, I was like, ‘Wait, how many whole chickens have I eaten this year?’ I started feeling really bad for chickens, who I love. I love chickens. They’re such cute creatures. I’d also had some health scares as a result of Covid. Being told that your lungs have the capacity of a 70-year-old woman when you’re in your 30s is quite a frightening experience. I’d started going back to the gym and taking that quite seriously to try and get my lungs to be back to somewhere good. Then, in the middle of all this generic health stuff, I watched Love Lies Bleeding, and wow, just wow – what a film. I was like, Wait, so you can be more than fit? You can be like a muscle mummy!? Since then I’ve been training quite seriously, several times a week and lifting. But I think the final evolution of myself as a muscle mummy Pokémon is years in the future.

My favourite Lioness is Leah Williamson, I met her at an Arlo Parks concert. We had a lovely little chat and agreed to play five-a-side.

I also obviously loved Love Lies Bleeding, do you have any other sort of lesbian media that you’ve become obsessed with?

Arcane: everyone in my Discord was talking about it and excited about it because it was gay. My other friend was messaging me about it being like, ‘Is it okay if I fancy a cartoon?’ I loved Agatha All Along. I do love a little gay treat from time to time. Last year was quite a gay year as well. There was also that film with Ayo Edebiri and who else? And it was kind of like high school–

Bottoms?

Yeah, Bottoms was great. And musically, you know, Chappell Roan, having that meteoric rise. There was a time, I think 2015, when I first started releasing new music and there weren’t many of us. Now, it’s like I never have to wait for a gay thing [to come out], which is so nice, there’s always a new gay thing around the corner, which I think is exactly as it should be.

And women’s football too is getting a lot of well-deserved attention – I heard you played for Man City as a teenager?

From U9 onwards. I was scouted at a primary school tournament, and I played until U16. Then I discovered guitar and I was like, ‘Wait, I can be inside in winter and not in a T-shirt and shorts and maybe people will think I’m cool and fancy me?’ That [last bit] didn’t happen. It did later, but not then. When I watched the England women’s team win the Euros I was so happy and I was so proud. And there was this tiny little footballer Shura, who was like, ‘Oh, what if I’d carried on? Maybe I could have been there.’ 

Who’s your favourite Lioness?

That’s really difficult. But I have to say Leah Williamson, because I met her at an Arlo Parks concert. We had a lovely little chat and agreed to play five-a-side. I know that’s never going to happen but, in my brain, it’s going to happen.

Recognise is out now on all streaming platforms. Follow Shura here. 

The post Shura: “Getting muscles takes so long” appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The R&B singer-songwriter discusses the power of submission and not understanding the fans who still think he’s straight. 

WORDS MIKELLE STREET
PHOTOGRAPHY RYDER

Earlier this year, Destin Conrad was in an Uber riding through New York City. He was lost in his own world, in his own problems, staring out the window. And then he saw her: a girl standing at the bus stop with the word “Submissive” stamped across the front of her hoodie in big bold letters. 

“It brought me so much joy,” Conrad tells GAY TIMES. The hoodie was merch from his two-part Submissive project and accompanying from earlier this year. Though the driver was going too fast for him to roll down the window and call out to her, the experience stuck with Conrad. “I almost started crying in the Uber. [That hoodie] is something so loud. I’m sure that girl has gotten questioned about why she has it on. It’s just crazy how it can be a part of somebody’s everyday life. It was one of those moments that kind of hit me.”

But that’s the work that Conrad is making: stuff that people feel deeply. Over the span of five EPs, the Tampa, Florida-born, Los Angeles-raised, Brooklyn-residing R&B singer has solidified himself as a talent to be taken note of. He has a voice that, like some of America’s great singers, got its start in the church, and a face so compelling that he recently served as a video vixen of sorts in one of Lil Nas X’s latest visuals. (You also might recognise that face from the remnants of his Vine stardom that live on as GIFs to this day.)

The singer-songwriter, who takes both halves of that label as serious as the other, is a true crooner. You can hear it on his hit “In the Air” where he tries to carefully tread the line of telling a situationship what you want without being demanding. And if pining and yearning are physical manifestations of crooning, you can see it in his eyes through music videos for tracks like “Nosebleed” and “It’s Only You.”

Here, we talk to Destin about the role music plays in his personal life, why his biggest song doesn’t have a music video and what he thinks about men who can hear his song “WAR!” which claims he would go to war for the dick, and not be convinced he’s gay.

What’s the role that music plays in your life? For some people it’s therapy, for some people it’s a way of explaining their mood, what is it for you?

It’s definitely therapy for me in a sense. When I go through something with someone I’m definitely like I need to write about this. It all comes back to my actual life: my romantic relationships and even my platonic tiffs that I get in. I just want to write about them and how I felt. It’s about how I feel and it’s a form of therapy.

Do you write about things while they are happening or after?

I can’t write about it when I’m going through it. I have to feel it and then get over it and write about it. It would be really sour if I wrote about it while I was feeling it. When you feel things very strongly and it’s current, it’s hard to take yourself out of it. I definitely have to say ok that happened, let’s evaluate: how did that make me feel. That’s where the therapy comes in. 

It’s sort of like a debrief with yourself afterwards.

Exactly. 

So you’ve been singing like all your life, right?

Yeah. I grew up singing in church. My aunt was an evangelist so she was a big reason as to why I was in music and performance at an early age. She would have these church boat rides where she would rent a boat and everybody would come on and everyone would donate and fundraise and I would come on and sing. My mom also told me that I would hum a lot when I was a baby before I could talk. So it’s kind of always been a thing for me. 

It’s interesting because I’m too online – I’m on Twitter too much – but one of the things that’s said on there every few months is we don’t have the great singers we used to have because people aren’t growing up in church any more. 

I keep seeing that too. I mean the root of R&B is gospel. I feel like before we were making love songs about people it was definitely about God and then someone made it secular. I definitely agree in some way that it does play a role in R&B and why [the genre] isn’t as big as it used to be. Not a lot of my peers go to church. Even melodically there’s a lot of things that tie gospel and R&B together with runs and the inflection. I learned a lot of that in church and listening to gospel music. A lot of R&B artists I know are big fans of Kim Burrell and freak out over those church runs.

“Submitting is the ultimate power and strength.”

You said that Colorway changed your life forever. Was it just that it helped you decide to do music full time or was it something else?

That’s definitely what it was, the fact that it gave me purpose. I didn’t really know what I was doing. My friends were like well you can do this and you can do that, maybe you should act. I just feel like I didn’t want to choose one thing so I did a lot of different things. I sold t-shirts for a while, I did everything. But I’m in it now. I identify myself as an artist now. I’ve toured and done the whole thing. And maybe it was a little bit of imposter syndrome that played into it but now I walk in the room and I’m like I’m an R&B singer. 

Sometimes that feels like something you can be even more proud of if you discovered it on your own and it’s not something someone told you to do.

For sure. I’m definitely proud of it because it’s mine. It’s my story, these are my experiences, my melodies, my writing. Granted, I work with songwriters as well and I love collaborating with people but the majority of it is my story and my feelings. I’m very proud of it now. 

When you went in to start working on your Submissive project, did you know you wanted it to be a two-part project?

It’s something that had crossed my mind. But I didn’t really know I was going to make a part two until I started making it. A big reason I did part two was I wanted to tour and I didn’t have enough songs because my projects were EPs, they weren’t full-length albums. So that was a big reason: I wanted to have a full set list.

But I came up with the idea of Submissive being the title because I knew that it would draw people in because it has a sexual connotation and people are just horny. But my angle was submitting in a way of surrendering to the unknown and the strength that carries. To just submit in the way that “whatever is mine is mine.” Sometimes I feel like that is way more powerful than dominance. I feel like sometimes dominance can be fickle and fragile and too particular. I feel like submitting is the ultimate power and strength. That’s where I was coming from with it for the title.

In the leather and BDSM culture it’s often said that the dominant is only as dominant as the submissive allows. And in that way the submissive is the one really in control because they sort of lay out their boundaries and the dominant gets to be dominant within those parameters. 

That is so powerful to me. 

How was headlining your first tour earlier this year? I know obviously you’re onstage longer but vibe-wise how was that?

It was probably one of the most gratifying things I’ve ever done. Also one of the most tiring things I’ve ever done. Very different from opening up for another artist. I feel like there’s a pressure when you’re opening up for somebody else. I’ve just heard horror stories about people opening up and fans being horrible to them, though I never had that experience. I opened for Syd and that was my first time playing my music anywhere and I had just put out Colorway. That was my first tour and her fans were very receptive. Then my second tour was opening for my sister Kehlani which was very easy. They were very receptive to me because they knew me already. 

But opening wasn’t as gratifying as knowing that I was doing my own show and that people bought tickets to come see me. It goes back to the real-life-always-outweighs-the-internet shit. Because the numbers can be so high and you don’t make people feel anything. It doesn’t add up. But when you see it in person… that’s what makes it worth it. When I’m super tired and don’t want to work, seeing people who tell me how my music makes them feel or seeing them wearing my merch makes me feel like, okay, this is real I can’t stop. I got to keep doing it. I can’t disappoint people. 

How intentional are you with your visuals and music videos? I ask that because I’m thinking about the decision to have men be your romantic interests in the videos. Is that something you’re super conscious about?

I wasn’t in the beginning. As I said, before I was an artist I kind of ran away from the idea of being an artist in a way. I was kind of still in a limbo of if I wanted to do that. So that anxiety showed up when I started putting out videos because I just didn’t know what I wanted to do. I didn’t know if I wanted to be perceived. I’ve shot a couple of videos that will never see the light of day. One of my biggest songs actually, “In the Air,”  I shot a video to that song and never put it out. I probably should have because that was my first project. And even for me as a fan of other artists, it’s always cool to see their growth in the form of visuals. But I was just so particular and scared about how I would be perceived. So now I’m trying to convey a message in my videos. 

With the “In the Air” video was it that you didn’t want to be perceived or that you weren’t sure that was the way you wanted to be perceived?

I wasn’t sure that was the way I wanted to be perceived. I wasn’t in love with how it made me look. The story probably could have been told better, I don’t know. But looking back, I should have put the video out. It’s my biggest song and it doesn’t have a video because I was scared of perception. It is what it is. Now I have more of an idea of what I want and how I want my videos to look. I’ve been having love interests which is really cool to me and I feel like it’s important for people to see gay men be video vixens. It’s just important: music videos are important.

You’re working on your debut album now, what have you been listening to as you work on it?

It’s been a little different than the other projects, partially because it’s my first album. So it’s longer. If it was an EP it would probably be done already. But I’m really trying to do full length songs and have a bridge and polish them and mix them the right way. The transitions have to be incredible. So I’ve been listening to all the music that I love. Just the great R&B albums of the last couple of years and seeing how their songs transition into each other. Like Anti by Rihanna. I remember listening to that and being like this is a really good album: it’s the right amount of songs but it doesn’t feel like there’s a skip. Also Channel Orange. The big R&B albums that really impacted me. 

It’s important for people to see gay men be video vixens.

Where do you feel R&B sits in the market right now? Do you think it’s going through a renaissance or it’s the same as it’s always been?

I feel like there’s a lot of great R&B that needs a lot more attention. I’m ready for it to be mainstream how it was in the early 2000s, how I would turn on the radio and there would be a lot of fucking R&B playing. I don’t know if that was just regionally where I lived. I’m from Tampa and maybe it’s just because it was in the south but I feel like in the early 2000s R&B was it. Like they were pop stars but were making R&B music. But there’s a lot of good R&B coming out that I feel like a lot of people don’t know about and I’m excited for it to get the attention it needs. 

Is there something you think people miss about your music and your sound?

Sometimes I think people don’t realise I’m gay and I don’t understand it. Like, I’m talking about a grown-ass man. It’s just like you’re not listening. I say “he”, I’m talking about dick, I’m pretty gay in my music. I don’t know if people are just turning their ears off when I’m talking. I specifically get those comments from straight guys who are my fans which is partially why I started to have my boos in my videos.  But other than that I think my writing style, I’m not super cryptic. It’s really just how I feel. Sometimes I like that more than other times, sometimes I want it to be more eloquent but that’s my style. 

Is it important for you that people know you’re gay?

1000%. It’s super important that people know that I’m queer in the R&B space because there’s so many people that need that music. There’s so many gay boys that need songs about other gay boys and just queer people in general. So without shoving it down people’s throats I definitely try to indicate it. 

Destin Conrad’s latest single “Nosebleed” is out now, check out the video below.

The post Destin Conrad: “There’s so many gay boys that need songs about other gay boys” appeared first on GAY TIMES.

Actor Bilal Hasna on his latest role as a non-binary British-Palestinian drag queen in the brilliant Layla. 

WRITER RYAN CAHILL 
PHOTOGRAPHER KYLE GALVIN 
STYLIST GARY SALTER 
CREATIVE DIRECTION CRAIG HEMMING 
GROOMING NICK ROSE 
PHOTOGRAPHY ASSISTANT OLIVER FRANCIS 
TAILORING FRANKIE FARMER 
PRODUCTION ANGEL B PRODUCTIONS

Actor Bilal Hasna has been incredibly hard to pin down. In the midst of press tours, auditions and a packed shooting schedule, we finally manage to find a time to chat over Zoom. As he flashes on screen, his first instinct is to apologise profusely at being unable to meet in person, telling me that he’d just come from an audition and would later be attending an event for the launch of The Agency, a new show in which he stars alongside Michael Fassbender, Richard Gere and Jodie-Turner Smith. He’s instantly disarming, charming and well-spoken – even taking a moment to compliment my Le Cruset butter dish (not sponsored!) in the back of the shot. 

Hasna’s big break came when he was cast in Extraordinary, the anti-superhero comedy series on Disney+ in which he plays Kash, a young man in his early 20s who possesses the power to turn back time. In the role, Hasna showed us that he was ideally suited to comedy, with brilliant timing and line delivery which perfectly suited the world created by Emma Moran. Despite two brilliant seasons, the future of Extraordinary remains uncertain with no news of a renewal – but it played its part in putting Hasna on the map. 

His latest role, though, will allow viewers to see a different side of him. Starring as the title character in Layla, a new film written and directed by British-Iraqi filmmaker and writer Amrou Al-Kadhi, Hasna transforms into a jobbing drag queen who starts a relationship with a corporate marketeer. The story unravels as Layla hides their true identity from their family and navigates a double life alongside romance and friendship. In the role, Hasna is mesmerising. He perfectly captures the internal struggle of code-switching between the straight and queer worlds, whilst offering a sense of hopefulness and quiet optimism which sets Layla aside from so many other queer characters that we see on-screen. It’s a nuanced and bold performance, packed with perfect portrayals of love, heartbreak, identity crisis, managing family and friendships and navigating London life. 

After receiving acclaim following its premiere at the London BFI Flare Festival, the film is officially released on Friday 22 November. Ahead of the release, we caught up with Hasna to discuss his appreciation for drag, the tragedy trope in queer media and his Palestinian heritage. 

L: Shirt FAVOURBROOK | R: Full look LANVIN

To start with, I wonder if there’s a performance or moment in a film that made you realise that you want to be an actor? 

I remember that when I was really young, my New Year’s resolution was to watch a film every day. My Dad is a massive film buff so we would watch them together. I remember we watched Girl, Interrupted and Angelina Jolie’s performance in that was so good. I couldn’t stop thinking about it for ages. I just remember being really struck by that performance and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks and weeks afterwards. That definitely was something that inspired me to pursue acting. 

And from there, what was your pathway into the industry? 

I’ve always done it, since I was a kid. I used to go to a Saturday school like Stage Coach, and then when I went to secondary school, I did a lot of it there. I was really lucky because the drama department in my school had some amazing teachers. One of them was a woman called Dawn Morris-Wolffe and she was directing a production of Great Expectations, the Charles Dickens novel. She wanted a boy to play Miss Havisham and I ended up getting the part. That was my first proper experience of doing drag! She’s a widow, she lives in this rotten house. She’s very camp! A lot of the teachers that came to watch were like ‘Oh my god, I didn’t realise it was you! I thought it was a woman’. It felt really liberating. It really unlocked things for me. Funnily enough, I got a text from her last week saying ‘I’ve just seen the trailer for Layla, I can’t believe it. I hope you’re telling the world about Miss Havisham!’ Then when it got to GCSEs I decided to take more of an academic approach. I ended up going to Cambridge as I wanted to be a professor of English Literature. Weirdly, there was another play that was at uni and I just got the bug again. I got to go around Europe touring Othello, I got to go to the Edinburgh Fringe two years in a row. I got an agent from uni and slowly things started happening. 

Tell me about the moment of being cast in Extraordinary.  

Extraordinary was the first big break really! I worked for a charity for a year and that was amazing and then I did this prison drama called Screw. I had enough money to support myself so I was able to put more effort into self-tapes and auditions. Then, the Extraordinary tape came through and I got it. That was incredible. Within three weeks of the final audition, I was on set all the time as one of the main characters. With that comes a lot of pressure, but I think I’ve just been lucky enough to work with all the right people at the right times. I really feel so blessed. 

Let’s chat about Layla. I’ve seen it twice. I found it to be a very complex watch in the best way. I definitely saw aspects of my own journey. Tell me a bit about how it came to you.

I was aware of Amrou [Al-Kadhi’s] work because they’re quite a prominent British-Arab queer writer in London, and there aren’t that many. I remember listening to a podcast they did for BBC Sounds, and I was in my second year of university and it really made me think differently about my identity. Then, three years later, the self-tape came through for Layla, their directorial debut. I was like ‘I’ve got to try and do that.’ I remember I was actually on the plane to go to Palestine to visit my family, and I did the self-tape in Palestine in the West Bank. 

What were your thoughts on the script? 

It felt very nuanced. I think so often in queer stories there is this centering around trauma and external conflict that is often quite violent and harsh. I think what happens in Layla is a lot about what people aren’t saying. It’s about what people cannot say, it’s about what people think they shouldn’t say. It’s all about miscommunication, really. I just felt very true to my experiences and it felt very, very authentic. This idea of code switching, depending on what room you’re in, what you feel, the perceived expectations of who you are is also something I could really identify with. 

Also, rather selfishly, I just wanted to try my hand at drag!

“So often, queer films show us that queer life is impossible and that you’re going to have to live a miserable life, be depressed or die, basically. I think Layla really rallies against that. It rallies against fatalism.”

What was Amrou Al-Kadhi like to work with as a director? 

Amrou [Al-Kadhi] was incredibly passionate about telling this story. I think initially the script was much more semi-autobiographical than it is now. I think they would feel confident with me saying that this didn’t necessarily happen to them but it’s based on experiences that have been refracted through certain lenses. I think because it’s rooted in a lived experience, it meant that they had such an incredible passion and worked so hard to realise this world, both on screen and off. Many of the heads of department were queer, the person who was to apply my makeup was a drag queen themselves! That kind of spirit of authenticity, joy and integrity really ran through the whole team and was led by Amrou. 

I feel like it’s cliche to say that playing this role was ‘brave’, but you expose yourself both physically and emotionally in Layla. I imagine that was quite a huge undertaking. Did that come with any kind of pressure?

At that point I’d only really played Kash in Extraordinary and that’s a very comic role. There’s not that much vulnerability required in the way that it is in Layla. I don’t think I felt pressure really, and I think it’s in large part down to Louis [Greatorex] and how much we were able to hold each other in the filming process. I never felt like I was putting myself out there or doing something that I felt uncomfortable with. We also had an intimacy coordinator so that made us feel extremely comfortable. I think because the film was made by our community, you’re always held in it.

I always find that when we’re seeing those intimate scenes in queer media, they’re either depicted to satisfy the heteronormative gaze, or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, they serve the purpose of titillation for the queer viewer. However in Layla, they felt intimate in a way that was necessary for the story, but also really honest to queer intimacy. They felt more genuine than what we’re used to seeing in queer media. 

That was definitely our intention. There’s three main sex scenes in the film and I think that they’re quite pivotal for the film because they express what these characters can’t quite tell themselves verbally. 

Has playing Layla given you a whole new appreciation of drag? 

Yes! Drag is an Olympic sport. Drag queens are Olympians! To be in a corset that cinches you five inches and nine inch stilettos, even for a few hours, is exhausting! To hold everyone’s gaze and to translate their investment in your persona into something that is righteous, clever and quick requires so much! I’ve always loved drag, but I think doing this film really made me understand the lengths that you have to go to to be a professional drag queen. 

What do you hope that people will take away from the film? 

I hope the film shows them that life is possible. I think so often queer films show us that queer life is impossible and that you’re going to have to live a miserable life, be depressed or die, basically. I think Layla really rallies against that. It rallies against fatalism. Layla, by the end of the film, emerges triumphant and as someone who’s able to harness all the different facets of themselves into something beautiful and coherent. I really hope that is the case, especially for queer Arabs and queer Muslims whose identities are so often recognised in mass media to justify atrocities. 

You’re right, a lot of queer media is rooted in tragedy. Why do you think that is? 

I think that in the context of queer filmmakers and queer showrunners, a lot of people are trying to portray the truth of their experience and that truth is often quite tragic. You don’t even need to look to the past, you can look at the present. For example, right now we have rampant transphobia. It’s very easy to tell a queer story that’s traumatic because for so many people, queer life is something traumatic. We’ve all had trauma associated with our identities. I think the problem is that there’s an over-saturation of those stories, which means that you begin to naturalise certain things around queer life. If you’re just reflecting your own experiences without trying to show that another world is possible, then the imagination will never be able to grasp it, and therefore you can never realise it. I’m a big believer that the imagination is actually quite a political tool. You cannot achieve anything unless you can envisage a world in which it is possible. 

L: Full Look HOMME PLISSE ISSEY MIYAKE, shoes LANVIN | R: As before

Speaking of politics, I see from your Instagram that you’re regularly sharing political posts. Do you feel that you have a responsibility to utilise your platform in that way? 

As a Palestinian actor,  it’s particularly painful for me to see what’s going on in the world right now. Today, as we speak, is the 404th day of a genocide against the Palestinian people in Gaza. I think that I feel a sense of duty that is incumbent on me to speak out about it because I don’t think any of us have seen anything like this in our lifetimes. Do I think it’s my responsibility? The act of storytelling goes hand-in-hand with the act of advocacy and uplifting people whose voices are lost in public discourse, whose voices are demonised, dehumanised, racialised. I see the act of advocacy and lifting up certain stories as something I want to do on screen, as well as off. Especially with this issue, it’s particularly important because there is such fear around talking about it. There is such fear in saying the wrong thing. I take a great sense of hope in the people that have refused for their humanity to be compromised in this moment and have taken to the streets or have used whatever platforms they have to draw attention to this. You described it as a political thing, which is true. The situation is a political situation, but the actual issue itself is really an issue of: do we believe a certain kind of person should be annihilated? I think the answer to that is always no. 

Thank you for answering that question so eloquently.

With regards to this specific issue of Israel-Palestine, in my opinion, for many years now the Israeli state has weaponised queer Palestinian identity in order to justify its occupation of Palestine. So essentially it’s said that because homosexuality is not accepted, in Palestine, that this is actually a reason why the Palestinians need to be occupied because they are backwards people, because they don’t understand true liberation. They don’t stand for LGBTQIA+ rights. I think what this film is trying to do, in a small way, is saying that we have to narrate our own stories, because if you ask any queer Palestinian, the first thing they will tell you is that nothing kills queer Palestinians more than Israeli bombs. 

That brings me onto my next question, which is about identity. Typically when we see queer films or TV shows, they’re usually from a white gay male perspective, and there’s a greater need for wider representation. What are your thoughts on that? 

I think that in queer representation, as in any form of representation, a certain kind of person is prioritised over other people’s perspective. I really hope that that’s beginning to change. Layla sits alongside many films about drag queens of colour that have come out in the last few years, and I think that’s a really good starting point. It’s hard to say what the future is going to look like, but I do feel very hopeful about all different kinds of queer experiences being shown. 

Can you give us a little snapshot of what you have coming up? 

I think this year has been really exciting. I’ve had a real opportunity to work with such a diverse range of people, a lot of whom I’ve been working in this industry for a long time. I’ve just wrapped on this show called The Agency, which is for Showtime and Paramount+. It’s written by Jez Butterworth and John-Henry Butterworth. The first episodes have been directed by Joe Wright, the amazing director of Pride and Prejudice, Atonement and The Darkest Hour. The show stars Michael Fassbender, Richard Gere and Geoffrey Wright. So that was a crazy opportunity to act with some of the big veterans of Hollywood, and it was amazing. 

I learned so much. That comes out on 29 of November. And then I actually had the opportunity of being in the Lord of the Rings anime film that’s coming out. There’s also Black Mirror, which is amazing as well. I can’t say too much about that, but that’s coming out next year!  

This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Layla is out in UK cinemas on 22 November.

The post Bilal Hasna: “Drag is an Olympic sport. Drag queens are Olympians!” appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The musician opens up about sobriety, her latest relationship, and the excitement of heading on her first global headline tour. 

WORDS ISOBEL VAN DYKE
PHOTOGRAPHY JOHN JAY
COVER DESIGN JACK ROWE

When Doechii was 11-years-old she met with a pastor who prophesied her life. He told her that she would touch millions of people with her gifts, she just didn’t yet know what those gifts were. 15 years and 10 million monthly listeners later, her abilities have become clear – the prophecy fulfilled. “I was anointed that day,” she explains. “I’m very aware that my purpose is to inspire people through music. I think that I’m meant to mirror a truth about people. That’s my purpose.” 

It’s bright and early in Los Angeles but the 26-year-old rapper is wide awake. She speaks gracefully but with intent. A true poet who has known herself, and what she wants, from a very young age. When we speak, she’s seven days away from the biggest tour of her career so far. Sure, she’s supported Doja Cat, SZA and Beyoncé, but this is Doechii’s own, headlining lap of the globe. Understandably, she has a full day of rehearsals ahead of her. 

“I finally get to perform new music. I’ve been performing the same singles for forever so it feels like a relief to get away from that old music and do something new,” she says excitedly. The new music in question comes from her debut mixtape, Alligator Bites Never Heal, which was released in August to critical acclaim, with some even hailing it as the best rap album of the year. 

The 19-track project is gritty, raw, playful, and astonishingly, only took her a month to make (bar a couple of “very old songs that [she] forgot about”). The meaning of the title, she explains, changes for her everyday. “I think that’s what my favourite type of art does – it evolves and changes with time. Today it feels like as long as you’re being vulnerable and you’re showing up transparently and honestly as a human, you open yourself up to be wounded in some type of way.” 

Of course, the album title also references the 1.3 million alligators that reside in the state of Florida – or, as Doechii calls it, The Swamp. Born Jaylah Ji’mya Hickmon and raised in Tampa, as a child she was bullied. As a result, she invented a new character: Doechii. It wasn’t until high school that she began to thrive. She set her sights on Howard W. Blake School of the Arts, where she auditioned, was accepted, and unlocked the doors to ballet, tap, singing, cheerleading and gymnastics. 

It’s clear to see how gymnastics has influenced her as a performer. “The way that gymnasts train is really, really tough. It’s brutal and hard and difficult. But at some point in my gymnastic career I learnt how to embrace and really love pain. To view pain as me getting stronger and better. That caused a deep discipline that has never left me,” she says. Surely, it also made her more competitive? “100 percent. I’m super competitive. I wanna be the best.”

Between training and high school, she began to experiment with freestyle rapping. She released her debut song on SoundCloud in 2016, followed by her 9-track project Coven Music Session, Vol. 1 and her debut EP in 2020. She went viral on TikTok with her single “Yucky Blucky Fruitcake”, and then again with “Persuasive” in 2022 after becoming the first female rapper to sign with Top Dawg Entertainment. 

For the past five years, like an alligator, Doechii has been laying low, disguised among the everglades. Waiting patiently for her moment to attack and sink her teeth in. She has built her gator nest on a foundation of hit singles (including this summer’s “Alter Ego”), honesty in her lyricism, and sobriety, too. She has a clear view of success and knows what she needs to get there. Alcohol, drugs and nicotine were simply getting in the way. 

“I was relying on a source outside of myself and when you rely on a source outside of yourself to create something, you’re not creating from an authentic place, because you’re not yourself. That’s why my project sounds like it does. Because it’s coming from me, it’s not coming from liquor, it’s not coming from a party environment, it’s coming from me sitting down, being barefoot in my studio, balling my eyes out. Finally able to unpack something that I had been running from for a long time.” 

“My project is not coming from a party environment, it’s coming from me sitting down, being barefoot in my studio, balling my eyes out”

That said, the music industry doesn’t exactly make it easy to go sober. “As a musician you go to a lot of festivals, there’s a lot of club appearances, there’s a lot of shows, and where there’s music there’s usually alcohol and drugs, recreational drugs and hard drugs that people use in the crowd, so it’s always around.” Disciplined as ever, Doechii takes a challenge in her stride.  “At first it was a little bit difficult. But when you get a grip on your environment and you remove those things it’s not difficult for me at all. In fact, it’s actually quite simple and it feels good.” 

Not only is she recently sober, Doechii is also recently taken. “I think I’ve always been gay,” she laughs. “I always knew I was gay. I’m currently bisexual. I am with a woman now and I have always known that I loved women. I’ve been very, very aware from an early age.” I can hear the pride in her voice, though growing up in Florida, she hasn’t always been able to embrace her sexuality in the way she can now. 

“I’m a Black woman from the south, so it’s different. There’s a lot of racism and homophobia so it’s hard, it’s very, very hard. Even though I was aware, I didn’t feel as comfortable until I started surrounding myself with more gay friends. I also grew up in the church, which is not to say that every religion denounces being gay, but it wasn’t accepted in the religion that I was in, in my environment. It wasn’t until I went to a performing arts school and there were a lot of gay people at my school. Once I had gay friends it was like ‘OK, I can be myself, I’m good, I can feel safe, this is normal, I’m fine, everything is ok.’ I have those same friends today and will have them for life.” 

Did she feel the need to hide her sexuality? “I definitely didn’t feel like I could have pride. I wouldn’t talk about it, but if somebody asked me I wasn’t going to lie. So it wasn’t a secret, but I definitely couldn’t walk around as proud as I wanted to and that was upsetting.” 

In 2021, Doechii made the move from Florida to California. And though Tampa is deeply rooted in her art and in who she is, she notes the difference between the two states. “I feel hopeful about Tampa, but the rest of Florida still has a lot of catching up to do and it would be ridiculous if I did not acknowledge the blatant homophobia and racism that is spread in the south. There definitely is a difference living here in Los Angeles. It is a lot more liberal and [being gay] has been accepted for a long time, whereas Florida is just now catching up to accepting and treating gay people equally, which is sad. But things are changing.” 

In 2024, as Doechii rises, so does a fresh wave of queer women musicians. Not only are we seeing greater representation, but women leading the conversation and at the forefront of pop. From Billie Eilish to Chappell Roan, Renée Rapp, Victoria Monét, Kehlani and MUNA, we’re witnessing a celebratory moment in music history. Doechii is right there with them. “It feels like, finally. It’s interesting that, if you look back in history, there were popular female MCs back in the day that were gay, they just weren’t allowed to be as open about it as we are now. It has always been a thing, but it feels amazing that now it’s not as hard for us.” 

“Florida is just now catching up to accepting and treating gay people equally”

As for her own queer icons: “Queen Latifah was huge. Madonna, of course. And for my generation, Lady Gaga.” Much like Gaga, Doechii’s fanbase is largely made up of the LGBTQIA+ community, and for good reason. “Because gay people love talent!” She exclaims. “True, raw, talent. And, I’m gonna be honest, we just have great taste! I think that’s why a lot of my fans are gay, because we have great taste and we get it.” 

Having had her first taste of drag earlier this year when she appeared on the cover of Paper Magazine, Doechii is hungry for more. “That was my first time doing drag and man, I fucking love it. That was so, so fun and so cool and incredible to explore and try, so I’ll probably do it again, maybe for a music video. We’ll see.” Whilst she’s new to drag, she isn’t new to adopting characters. Not only are Doechii and drag king Ricardo two of her personas, she also made her acting debut in Savanah Leaf’s Earth Mama last year. 

Are film and TV avenues that she’d like to explore further? “Yes, yes, yes. I think I’d do comedy or horror, or both.” As for her dream role, of course, Doechii could only ever play another predator: “I’d like to be the star of an A24 film where I am the villain.” Why? “Because I don’t wanna be the one getting killed! I’m gonna do the killing.” Spoken like a true alligator.

Alligator Bites Never Heal is out now.

The post Doechii: “I have always known that I loved women. I’ve been very, very aware from an early age” appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The cult musician talks queerbaiting, coming out and being “the original gay boy on Tumblr”.

WORDS MIKELLE STREET
PHOTOGRAPHY AND STYLIST IRIS LUZ
LIGHTING ALEX RADOTA

Babymorocco is sexy. For him, that’s a forgone conclusion. He wields that attribute, actually. He’s got a big mass in general –  “big thighs and a big butt” as he explains to me over Zoom. Later, he gives me a few flexing poses to illustrate a point he’s making. Becoming conscious of – and manipulating – that appeal started when he launched a Tumblr account under the Babymorocco moniker and was first exposed to how people reacted to images of his body. But it continues through to today.

“There’s a certain kind of power that I became obsessed with,” he says of those early online days. “You know, the validation you get from looking sexy.” The sort of reaction he was receiving, and the beefcake-like frame that came later, planted the seed for his career as a pop act, the essence of which is best encapsulated in his music video “Everyone” where he walks through the streets of New York City as people turn and stare.

“Everyone wants to look like me, everyone wants to talk like me,” he says in the hook. 

The Casablanca, Morocco-born star is in constant pursuit of that sort of attention, of fame, not just by way of being an online pin-up but via actual club bangers. His tracks largely don’t take themselves too seriously and hearken back to music from the 2000s and 2010s that worms its way into your ears and refuses to dislodge. The songs are fun, self-absorbed, and sometimes a bit trashy from the self-taught musician who is writing a lore that fans will hopefully obsess over as much as they do his biceps. All of this as the artist chases a brush with global stardom that happened while he was still in art school. 

Just over decade ago, Babymorocco went internationally viral as Clayton Pettet when he announced he would lose his virginity in a project titled “Art School Stole My Virginity.” The story of this 19-year-old CSM student’s project was covered incessantly for a year by multiple outlets, ending in a performance that contended with ideas of sexuality, stigma, fame and infamy amongst other things. 

“That was the time I probably existed as the most famous [I’ve ever been]. It was a drug – I crave it now all the time in a way,” Morocco explains of the pivotal era. “Now, each new character is like I’m writing a new book for attention. But that’s what I took from it: I can come up with these concepts and realise them and people will enjoy it.” His music has become the ink to write those characters.

And enjoy it fans have, with the hedonistic party boy that is Babymorocco unleashed through singles like “Crazy Cheap” and the newly released “Babestation”. But on his upcoming album he introduces us to even more characters. It all serves to build out the world of Babymorrocco with a realness that’s more true to life. “I think it’s the most honest work I’ve put out,” Morocco says of the project, expected out before the end of the year. “I wanted to show I have more emotion than just narcissism.”

Here we talk to Babymorocco about how being sexy can be a prison and what shaped him as an artist over time, before delving into those persistent questions regarding his sexuality and queerbaiting.

You mentioned you’re a British boy through and through – looking at your aesthetics, I’m curious if you consider yourself a bit of a “chav” or affiliated with that culture? I hope that’s not offensive, it’s my understanding some people are reclaiming it.

It’s not offensive to me. The town I grew up in and the school I went to, [chav culture] is what I grew up in. I take it as a point of pride to be a bit of a chav. But with chav culture there’s different versions of it. I was a bit scebby, like a bit dirty. I would go out and do a lot of drinking with a big bottle of K cider when I was like 14 and get messed up. That kind of chav. 

But I know what you mean. It’s interesting to hear you say that because I never hear Americans say it. 

Yeah, I think for me I’ve always understood it from more of just an aesthetic, from a fashion perspective. Like a tracksuit and t-shirts. 

It’s interesting to talk about the fashion aspect of it because I was always on Tumblr back in the day. Back then, for me, what really stuck was seeing the scene kids’ emo stuff but the colourful version. That, mixed with the chavvy thing – the tracksuits and the caps up and big necklaces. It almost went hand-in-hand so there was this element where I grew up in Bournemouth where it kind of melded and made this swaggy, weird British boy with all these colours. We kind of copied what was happening in LA and mixed it with British culture. That was when I was like 14 years old. 

“Art school was the fake version of me, the real version of me is what I am right now”

And that’s shaping the artist you are now?

It’s weird: when you grow up you really do find yourself going back to the stuff you liked when you were a kid no matter what form that takes. I’ve drank since I was a kid — alcohol has stayed a prevalent part of my life. We have under 18 clubs in the UK and back in the day we would drink before we would go out and then go and turn up to some of the craziest club music you’ve ever heard. Like back then it was massive EDM tracks and rave or trance, all of that stuff. Then there was a period where I became a “serious artist” and got rid of all of that. But after art school I brought all that stuff back which I knew innately was my shit. Art school was the fake version of me, the real version of me is what I am right now.

What does that mean? Are you referring to pretentiousness or…?

It’s a mix. There’s definitely an aspect of pretension, especially with class. Coming from a working class background, everyone at art school has got money. So it was delving into that. But also I was just trying to be way more serious than I am as a person. I’m very earnest and I live with my heart on my sleeve – my new record is very that. But in art school I was thinking I had to be Marina Abramović and not speak and not have social media so I could be mysterious and post all my photos in black and white. Now, I look back at that time as the most swagless era of my life. I had a good time but I don’t look at that time as a time when I was very happy or anything.

Even though you weren’t happy do you think it had a lasting impact on what you do now?

Yeah, for sure. At art school I was doing a lot of performance. It was a lot of crazy shit. So for better or for worse I don’t feel like a human being anymore – I always feel like I’m playing a role since then. Even though I feel like the most authentic now, there’s still moments where I’m like, “Well since I’m doing this, I need to play into that part of my personality and leave this out.” So as much as I feel like I’m closer to where I was as a child, there’s still elements where I feel like I’m performing. But that’s music: it goes hand-in-hand.

While there you put on this super-viral performance piece supposedly about losing your virginity. Do you think that had a lasting impact on your relationship with sex and sexuality? Or even how people react to ideas about sex?

Totally. Like 40 scholars in America wrote about me, there was an essay that was titled “What Fucking Clayton Pettet Teaches Us About Cultural Rhetorics”. It made me realise where there is power in certain things and if I utilise them they will be able to reward me in some way.

At the time I was so young and the level of attention that had was so insane. I  didn’t even know how to make sense of it, I still kind of don’t. I had never had sex or any sexual experience when I did that, so it was such a weird thing. 

Maybe in the future I can bring that kind of performance into my music. But not now.

“In the UK we could do with more sexy male pop stars, for sure”

Being sexy is obviously a large part of that brand. Where does that come from?

I think it comes from a desperate place [to get] people to look at my work. I realise that being sexy is a very easy way to get people to pay attention. But it also bites me in the ass. People have a very certain opinion about my music. I can write some of the best pop music but there was this era, especially with my last record, when I realised I was trying to package [my music] as if I was this cheeky boy that wants you to come out and party with him. I love that, it’s part of me [but] I feel like each project should be different bits of you. 

But if you’re not from the UK, some people just didn’t get that first idea. They just didn’t get it. Especially with me [flexing] like this all the time. Then people only listen to your music because they want to fuck you. Or if you’re a gay guy retweeting my music other gay guys are saying “Oh, he’s not going to fuck you if you listen to his track.” And like, who knows? I could!

So right now, with the sexuality thing I’m trying to find a balance where there’s an element of seriousness to it. I think it was really easy to rely on for a while. 

Have your thoughts around that changed over time? Did you come in thinking you would just be sexy and love that attention before realising you didn’t?

That’s exactly how it went. And there will always be elements of my shit that will be sexy but at the beginning I was like, “I don’t give a fuck, I’m going to utilise all of this”. But now it’s more of me thinking I’ve made myself into a bit of a prison. If I want to promote something I have to do it in a sexy way. And I don’t want to be in that space any more. I want to be able to post a green symbol on my Instagram and for people to say “Oh my god.” It’s a prison that I made for myself being a sexy boy. That sounds so conceited but it’s definitely something you can see.

I think sexiness is an important part of music and in the UK we could do with more sexy male pop stars, for sure. I would like to be that, but I want the body and the music to be [equally appreciated.]

What have you been listening to, or thinking about, in terms of other music?

I was listening to a lot of French electro and there’s this thing in the UK, this era where there were a lot of pop groups like JLS and The Saturdays. I really loved that kind of old school pop writing from that era and even the sort of call-and-response songs. I have that on the record. There’s a part that’s like “What you doin’ when the lights go down?” and she’s like “I’m in the club.” That kind of stuff is super powerful to me and I want to bring that back to the UK sphere. 

It’s interesting because when I was younger I was super into dance culture and there was this French artist Yelle that was big with tectonic dance. I was thinking of that when I was listening to some of the tracks.

Oh, I love her. That was one of the biggest tracks that I pulled from for one of my songs. They were a very big inspiration for me. I think what I liked about Yelle is they have this song “Je Veux Tu Voir” and it’s all about the most dirty shit but I was singing it as a kid and didn’t know what it meant. I kind of love that it sounds so childish, like toys being played with, while talking about the nastiest shit. Just saying like the craziest stuff over a really fun track. 

On your most recent Instagram post you wrote that you’re about to come out. What is that about?

Should I come out now?

“I don’t feel like a human being anymore – I always feel like I’m playing a role”

What does that mean to you?

I don’t know. The thing is, I’ve been trying to wait to talk about the sexuality thing, honestly. Because I do think it’s easy enough, if you look hard enough, to find out what my sexuality is. I did actually want to use this interview as the right time to say it. Basically, with my sexuality, it’s just … I’m just going to say this. I had a boyfriend for four years. That’s what I’ll say about my sexuality. With the picture I posted it was more like, “I’m about to come out because I look so fucking hot.” But with this record I am talking about being more sincere and I think a brush that I’m always painted with is that people will always call me a queerbaiter. And I’m not! Like, I was the original gay boy on Tumblr, you know what I mean? 

I think the thing is that because I exist as what I am I’m going to get it. But I’ve done everything: I’ve fucked boys and I’ve fucked girls. But obviously you can’t have club references like me and be completely straight. You know what I’m saying? You can’t, sorry.

I find the queerbaiting conversation really interesting. Primarily because often when people say “queerbaiting” there’s no actual baiting. It’s just a gay guy finds a guy who they assume is not gay hot and so they feel baited. Even if the person wasn’t specifically appealing to gays but was just trying to be hot to anyone, in general.

Yeah. What I find confusing, and this is with everybody not just me: why is someone posting their body or flexing just considered to be queerbaiting because you are posting parts of your body you find sexy. If you find yourself sexy, your ass, your back, your hands and you post it and other people find it sexy, that’s on them. That’s not on you. I don’t think so.

I get there’s a conversation about other things that I’m not going to get into. But also I kind of like when men or women do whatever they want and dress however they want, straight, gay or whatever. But the reason I’m being a little bit more clear is because in some of the promo for the new record, I’m kissing boys and girls. So I feel like I should be clear because I really could be painted with that brush. 

I think that’s fair! I think if you’re actually committing like a gay act for promotional purposes, without meaning it, that definitely can be baiting.

So here’s the thing: if you’re hot, man or woman, I’m going to try it. For me, I don’t give a fuck. I’m here on this earth for what, like, 20 more years? Some figure of time. Maybe tomorrow! But I’m going to fuck who I want to fuck. That’s what I’m going to do. And people on the internet are not going to dictate anything about it. 

They aren’t going to make me feel guilty for feeling sexy. No one should feel guilty for being sexy, that’s a weird concept. I’m not going to feel weird about having a good time – sue me.

Babymorroco’s latest single, ‘Babestation’, is out now.

The post Babymorocco: “No one should feel guilty for being sexy” appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The perreo pop princess and bicon discusses her ‘Fashion Freak’ aesthetic, representing the queer community and flipping reggaeton’s gender script.

WORDS MIKELLE STREET
PHOTOGRAPHY ADAM MARTIN
STYLIST SHAHAN ASSADOURIAN
HMUA ISABELLA LOVESTORY
COVER DESIGN JACK ROWE

Isabella Lovestory is a creation all her own. The Honduran-born artist who spent time in the United States and then Montreal growing up, has fashioned herself into a pop star of her own imagining. After initially idolising the likes of Britney Spears and Gwen Stefani, Lovestory has built her own image as an aesthetic-forward (have you heard “Fashion Freak” or “Kitten Heels”?), sexually empowered and femme-centric voice disrupting the often narrow sound of reggaeton with a dose of experimental pop. 

Lovestory represents a banner under which supposed outsiders and outcasts have often rallied: her shows are a stomping ground for queer latine freaks and so-called weirdos, or frankly anyone in favour of the cuntier things in life. And it makes sense, as those are communities she herself is a part of.

“I’ve always been a part of this community and I’ve always wanted to speak up for people that don’t have a voice,” says Isabella, who has been given names like “bicon” and “Latina Gaga” by fans. “Especially being from Honduras, I think it’s super important to represent the community and let them know that we’re out here and you can do anything you set your mind to. Don’t let yourself be made to feel weird or that you’re not a part of this beautiful world.”

From her first song that she recorded inspired by her cat – she finds them elegant, mysterious, independent and slightly clumsy all at once – to some of her latest inspired by … well very important pussies, Lovestory’s tracks are about not taking themselves too seriously. But she’s also keen to offer new perspective without breaking it down for those who don’t get it: ”I don’t have time to explain myself, this life is too short,” she quips. 

All this manifests itself in tracks that are as varied as the camp hysteria that is ‘Botoxxx’ and the flip of expectations that is the sapphic lust on ‘Gateo’. In that queer anthem, men become dogs and women become cats as Isabella raps lines like “Tu gata ya está harta de besarte / Por eso viene hacia mi to’as las tardes / Las dos nos ponemo’ a ronronear.” (Your cat is already sick of kissing you / That’s why she comes to see me every night / So we can both get to purring.) “In reggaeton, it’s always about putting the girl as the prop but in ‘Gateo’ I was saying ‘no, the props can have fun together and we don’t need you,’” Lovestory says. 

Here, we talk to Isabella about the creation of Lovestory, how Tumblr rewired her brain, and building a fan base so supportive they’ll make her tour wardrobe.

Your career as a pop artist started as an art project. Can you talk to me about the specifics of that?

I was always more into visual art so I studied art when I went to university. I was doing pretty good, doing shows here and there. But the art world is so bleak. I didn’t want to be inside a gallery with white walls and fluorescent light. I wanted to make my art more accessible and music, to me, is the most accessible art form. I’m also multidisciplinary as an artist and, with being a pop star, you have all those things in one: music, fashion, art work, videos, editing. 

I had this multimedia class where I was doing more video editing. I decided to do a music video for the class but I needed music to do it. So I started Isabella Lovestory as a pop star to unite all these mediums. But I realised I actually like music and I’m not bad at it. Plus I needed money.

Has that initial creation changed over time or is it now just a more complex version of what you started as?

I think it’s a more complex version for sure. It’s an evolution. That was an easy way for me to start because I didn’t have any rules. I had no music background so I just did whatever I wanted. Out of that came experimental music and things I wasn’t seeing being done in reggaeton particularly. I feel like having that sense of carelessness and freedom just made me have more fun with it and be fearless. And really it’s just been an evolution from that birth. I’ve learned the hard truths of the industry but I’m still trying to have fun.

How important was having reggaeton as a central component of the music even though you’re blending genres?

It was important to me because I grew up with reggaeton, being from Honduras. So it was my favourite music growing up and is such an integral part of my culture and who I am. Also, being in Canada I was like, everything there was so boring to me. I wanted to show people where I was from and what I am. Plus the reggaeton world is still run by very, very straight, almost white men. At least what we see, like Daddy Yankee and stuff like that, it’s a very male-dominated genre. So I wanted to put my voice in there. I thought it just needed to be experimented with.

How have you found the industry’s reception to that experimentation?

It’s been amazing! I feel like people who feel weird and outcast in their own countries feel connected to me. So I have a lot of young queer people, artsy queer people and queer people in general who come up to me at my shows and tell me that I represent them. They tell me they look up to me because I’m doing something they want to do. I love inspiring those kids, especially in the Latin communities which are still very restricted.

It makes me happy to know I’ve made a lot of kids feel represented and seen. Especially at my shows, seeing them calling me the Latina Gaga, I’m like, ‘Oh my god, yes.’ Of course at the same time there’s people that are like, ‘Who is this girl? What the fuck is she doing? She’s so weird.’ But I don’t care about being misunderstood, I just want to be me. Whoever likes it, likes it and whoever doesn’t can look away. I’ve tried to make myself understood and there’s still a misunderstanding, so why not just go the most eccentric route and do what you want. 

"People need some manners. They need to learn how to have boundaries. I’m not saying I want to be groped by a million people and I want to be stalked"

You mentioned all of these outcasts and I know you were really into Tumblr growing up – it’s kind of interesting because Tumblr was always really great for those groups as well. 

Absolutely! Were you on Tumblr?

I was! And looking at your visuals it does feel very child of Tumblr-esque. Do you make that mental connection?

Totally. I feel like Tumblr completely rewired my brain and how I work. I do a lot of research and a lot of collages and curation for my visuals. Tumblr was a very visual type of learning and you had so much freedom to look up whatever you wanted. I feel like that’s sort of missing now in the youth, they don’t go out and research it’s more of everything is fed to them. But researching, making mood boards and being a very visual person on the internet has definitely stuck with me from Tumblr. 

Also that sense of community! You would connect first with the visuals of people and then you had that, ‘Oh my god we’re all weirdos. Let’s rule the internet.’ Also all my best friends I met from Tumblr. 

But that extends to your collaborators also right? It’s not Tumblr but you met Chicken through the internet as well right?

Yeah, I met him through Instagram. I’m a very Internet girl. I feel like without it I don’t know what I would have done because I didn’t study music and I wasn’t a nepo baby. It really helped me to be this person. People still think I have millions of people making my art and like it’s just me and my little pencil. So the Internet has been a very good place to build fantasy and connect with people.

Is the visual always a part of a project from the inception for you?

Yeah, definitely. I think of the lyrics and the themes of the song visually before anything else. I love movies and cinema and I’m a very cinematic person so every song I want to be a little movie. My albums as well. Or maybe they are different rooms in a house. Maybe it’s because I have ADHD but this is how I think of things. Always visual, cinematic, with a lore and full of colour and fantasy. It just gives me freedom to do everything I want when I put all that abstract chaos into one thing. 

You’ve mentioned how Isabella Lovestory is an exaggeration of your actual personality but also the purest expression and that reminds me a lot of how people refer to their drag personas. 

Totally! It’s all cinematic, going out in the world in this fearless persona that you always wanted to be as a child. You go and you decorate it to the fullest and you feel so good in it. It’s not something you do every day because you don’t want to put on the wig and the makeup every day but it’s like a celebration or a ritual for your purest inner child. It’s something you sort of look up. I totally feel like I’m doing drag whenever I go on stage. I can be completely naked and I still feel like I’m doing drag – it’s about the philosophy.

Right before your first tour, you lost all of your luggage which had your wardrobe in it and your fans ended up sending in a bunch of stuff for you to wear. Did you ever imagine you would ever have that level of support from fans?

Oh my God, you have no idea. I was saying to myself this is so good for my movie or my autobiography but it was not good for me in real life. Like it’s so good for a tragic moment in a movie but horrible to experience. It was my first tour and I had done all the costumes myself, like sewing them myself. I had designed about 10 costumes – some of it was old looks I was remixing. I had it all in my luggage with a few really cute vintage stuff that I’ll never get back. And it all got stolen a day before my first show.

It felt like a fated event like karma was being put on me or lifted. It just felt like I had to find the lesson in it. Then all of these people just started sending me clothes and fans were making me clothes that they wanted to see me wear onstage. It just strengthened the community because they would come up after and introduce themselves. I also learned that like with any material loss you realise you don’t need it at the end. You can perform naked and just use your inner glam to do your thing.

I think that’s true but also you’re an artist with songs like ‘Fashion Freak’ and ‘Kitten Heels,’ so aesthetics definitely mean a lot.

Exactly! That’s it! What was crazy is that I was just like who am I any more? But I also have another song called ‘Exibisionista’ where I’m just covered in glitter and that’s my outfit. 

What do you attribute that close connection with your fans to?

I think they see me as a friend, kind of. They get me and they see me as someone they are rooting for because they see themselves in me. They know that I’m not inaccessible. They see the freak and the weirdo in me and they want to help me. Maybe.

"You can perform naked and just use your inner glam to do your thing"

You’ve mentioned accessibility a few times but I’m curious do you ever feel like things are maybe a little too accessible. 

People need some manners. They need to learn how to have boundaries. I’m not saying I want to be groped by a million people and I want to be stalked. There needs to be more respect from the stans with just how they are so entitled. I totally agree. I try not to go on Twitter because people are so entitled with their popstars. There needs to be that boundary and a respect for artists that I think is missing. They are just like “give me a song right now.” It’s hard.

I think the accessibility I’m talking about is more about being humble and grounded. I want to access people through my music and my performance instead of having to sit down and talk to them. Because I’m actually pretty introverted. 

Has your career changed how introverted you are?

It has. I feel like I’m more introverted now. Since this is my job and I’m so exposed and I’m putting my heart out there, and being truly possessed on stage. It’s draining, so I feel like I don’t want to go to parties any more, I just want to sleep because I’m sleep deprived. 

But it’s a little of both. I feel like I can handle social situations better if I have to. If I’m with my friends I’ll enjoy it and I’m super confident. But [my career] has made me appreciate my bed and my pets. I’ve seen a lot of people not take care of themselves and become a shell of a person and not make the best decisions. Especially artists. 

Isabella Lovestory’s latest single, ‘VIP’, is out now. Check out Isabella’s September – November live dates across North America, Latin America and Europe here. 

The post Isabella Lovestory: “I can be completely naked and still feel like I’m doing drag” appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The 12 queens of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK season 6 discuss the “freshest” instalment yet.

WORDS BY SAM DAMSHENAS
DESIGN BY JACK ROWE
SPECIAL THANKS TO BBC’S JASMINE ALOMA AND SOFIE VAN DE GRAMPEL

Babes, let’s all take a moment to reflect and thank Michelle Visage for sacrificing her sanity to live in a claustrophobic hell-hole with Katie Hopkins and Perez Hilton on Celebrity Big Brother. Without the Seduction singer’s valiance in trying to secure a British broadcaster for Drag Race UK, the United Kingdolls failed to bing, bang, bong popular culture, the Angels of the North’s shoplifting tendencies have landed them in jail as opposed to BBC iPlayer and Chappell Roan has gladly accepted a brand deal with H&M. Thank you, Michelle!

In two weeks (12 September), 12 more queens will flex their charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent to serve more iconic, culture-defining and controversial moments via lip-sync smackdowns and challenges. As one queen tells GAY TIMES: “There has never been a cast of Drag Race UK where the cast are determined to show you, not just great drag, but great TV as well.”

As per, season six features the return of RuPaul as host, with Michelle Visage, Alan Carr and Graham Norton as regular panellists. The quartet will be joined by a plethora of LGBTQIA+ icons and allies, from The X Factor champion Alexandra Burke to ‘Shoulda Woulda Coulda’ icon Beverley Knight and Big Brother co-host AJ Odudu.

Here, we chat with the 12 fierce queens hoping to usurp Ginger Johnson as Britain’s Next Drag Superstar: Actavia, Chanel O’Conor, Charra Tea, Dita Garbo, Kiki Snatch, Kyran Thrax, La Voix, Lill, Marmalade, Rileasa Slaves, Saki Yew and Zahirah Zapanta.

Inevitable Laganja Estranja reference incoming: “C’mon season six, let’s get sickening!”

Actavia
21, North Wales

Favourite RPDR alumni: Tayce and Anetra
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Sasha Colby vs Anetra – ‘I’m in Love with a Monster’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6 and UK season 2

“Sugno fy selsig,” says Actavia. Explanation incoming: as one of 12 queens competing this season, the 21-year-old has just made history as the franchise’s first fluent Welsh speaker, so rather than ask sincere questions such as ‘what does this mean to you?’ or ‘what impact do you want this to have?’ etc, I seize the opportunity to learn how to say something filthy and sordid. “It means ‘suck my sausage’.” Good! To! Know!

Newsflash, that was also a lie: I did, in fact, ask Actavia the latter question and she tells me that she’s already noticed the impact of “representing a small town” on Welshians who are, like her, fluent in sausage-speaking smut. “When I first started watching Drag Race I didn’t really know what drag was because there was nothing around me, drag-wise. Hopefully, if someone is watching who is around my age when I started they’ll be able to think, ‘Okay, I can do that.’”

While Actavia’s “villainess” promo suggests she’ll be a tough cunty queen, she assures me that campery and stupidity are the traits she exhibits most. No, really: “I’m the densest person ever. [I’m] so stupid.”

With her dance background, expect her to flip, kick, split and [insert name of other gravity-defying drag tricks here] on the stage, but she’s also been known to chuck in a tribute to Charity Shop Sue every now and then. “I take drag seriously, but not to the point where it’s not fun,” she says, “and I think that will come across.”

As for how she describes season six? “Chaotic, exciting and elevated.”

Chanel O’Conor
25, Scotland

Favourite RPDR alumni: Scarlet Envy
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Katya vs Sasha Belle – ‘Twist of Fate’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6

Ahead of this interview, Kyran Thrax kindly warned me that, out of all 12 cast members, Chanel O’Conor is the firecracker and troublemaker of season six. BREAKING: I can confirm that is, indeed, quite accurate. “Well, I’m a lady of leisure, a lady who likes her own way,” she says (with a somewhat sinister smile). “If I haven’t had my breakfast, oh I’m foul.” However, Chanel refuses to be labelled as a diva. “I would say ‘beast’. Really setting the bar, aren’t I?”

The 25-year-old Scottish diva beast, who claims Bill Gates messaged her at four a.m. for a spot of hanky-panky (lawsuit incoming…), exclusively reveals that season six includes a challenge where the cast “bare-knuckle box each other covered in turkey grease”. As you can probably tell, Chanel is a queen whose comedy is based in truth. Suffering from PTSD from the aforementioned challenge, which is 100% real and a major spoiler, by the way, she emotionally continues: “… then they threw Yorkshire puddings at us, and RuPaul covered us in potatoes.”

As well as truth, Chanel’s comedy is rooted in “the land of Seth Macfarlane”, so you can expect megalomaniacal sociopathy ala Stewie Griffin and alien cross-dressing hijinkx ala Roger Smith (that’s the extent of my Seth knowledge – I hope the gifs helped). “The kind of old-school ridiculous comedy where it’s more situational stupidity,” she divulges. “I will throw myself down the stairs if I can make somebody laugh.” In fact, “I actually kept doing that [on the show] and production were like, ‘Chanel, stop please, the Queen Team aren’t happy about this.’ I’d be like, ‘One more time!’”

So, there’s a check mark next to “comedy”. Having concocted garments for season two winner Lawrence Chaney, the same can be said for “fashion” too. What about her other strengths?: “I’m so passionate about interrupting people.” As Chanel’s bio comes to an end, it’s important for her to add another hard-hitting truth: “Michael Bay is the greatest director of all time.”

Charra Tea
23, Belfast

Favourite RPDR alumni: Miz Cracker
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Kitten Kaboodle vs The Girlfriend Experience – ‘Tongue’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6

“It was so crazy, big and pink,” says Charra Tea. “It was literally the best moment of my life.” You can halt those perverse and impure thoughts right this second because the 23-year-old is not following in the footsteps of her Northern Irish sister Blu Hydrangea in the filth department, she is simply reflecting on when her dreams came true by entering the Drag Race werkroom. (I’m actually unsure if she was intentional with those choice of words, time will tell if she’s a secret saucy minx.)

Charra does, however, want to emulate the success of the franchise’s scarce Northern Irish contestants, which only includes Blu and Jonbers Blonde: “Blu won UK vs the World and Jonbers was a finalist on season four, so those are some big boots to fill! But, I’m excited to represent Belfast and show fans that, if I can get on the show as a quiet and anxious kid in school, anyone can do it.”

Currently residing in Manchester, Charra’s drag was birthed after her first viewing of Hairspray. Her influences include future EGOT winners such as Nadine Coyle, Kim Woodburn and Gemma Collins, while her aesthetic revolves around bright colours and “massive prolapse dresses”. Remaining tight-lipped on the season, she reveals that her “dreams would come true” (x2) if she could be in Drag Race‘s second-ever spoken word lip-sync to Peter Marsh’s pop culture-defining read of Jane’s “sad little life” on Come Dine With Me.

Don’t expect Peter Marsh-levels of shade on season six, though, because Charra teases a new instalment of RuPaul’s Best Friend’s Race. “We’re like a family,” she says. “We’ve got a gorgeous group on WhatsApp and we talk in it everyday. It’s lovely and we all get on so well.” This could be a misdirect, as she uses words such as “brash”, “exciting” and “dramatic” to describe the season, adding: “It’s everything you want Drag Race to be.”

Dita Garbo
47, Kent

Favourite RPDR alumni: Sasha Velour
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: [No answer]
Favourite RPDR season: US season 16

For Dita Garbo, it’s an “honour” to make herstory as Drag Race UK’s oldest-ever queen. “The younger bitches need to be careful ‘cause we’ve got wisdom – and we’ve still got time!” (Kandy Ho is trembling.)

While Dita is coy and doesn’t want to “blow my own trumpet too much” – I assure her that blowing is okay – she hopes her appearance on season six proves to age-ists that “if people are good at something in their 20s, they’ll still be good at it in their 30s, 40s and 50s”. Defiantly, the Kent native goes one step further by stating that she wants to “kick the shit” out of the archaic perception that queens of a certain age are unable to keep up with the TikTok-ing Gen-Z’s: “I want to take away that stigma.”

As a burlesque performer and Dita Von Teese stan (hence her name), we can expect her to bless our screens with a bit of sex and sauce, as well as splits, shablams and “splits again!” as a result of her professional dance training. “I do it all,” she rightfully boasts before teasing that, if she does somehow end up in a lip-sync smackdown, “I’ll put on a show.”

Contradicting Charra’s above Tea, Dita promises “physical fights” on season six (she was joking, I think – sorry), and one of the most “diverse” seasons in the franchise’s ever-expanding history. “There’s a big age range and we’re all very different. We’ve all got different personalities and that means there’s something for everyone watching. Yeah, it’s going to be one of the best seasons.”

Kiki Snatch
25, London

Favourite RPDR alumni: Jaida Essence Hall
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Vanity Milan vs Scarlett Harlett – ‘Scandalous’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 9

You feeling Ro’Sham Bo’Sham? If one is not embodying Ro’Sham Bo’Sham energy, then one needs to pull it the fuck together. “[Season six] is so Ro’Sham Bo’Sham,” says Kiki Snatch, who uses the soon-to-be viral ‘Padam Padam’-esque catchphrase to describe, well, just about anything. “I don’t get myself sometimes, and people don’t get me either. I’m all over the place. If I can’t put it into words, then it’s Ro’Sham Bo’Sham. It can mean good or bad, it’s all in the intonation.” One more time: Ro’Sham Bo’Sham. (It really does roll off the tongue, eh?)

The Saint-Lucian/London “cross-breed baddie” is determined to become Drag Race UK’s first capital city champion, and she says she’ll do so with her skills as a fierce dancer and powerhouse vocalist, as well as her Beyoncé-Ciara-Donna Summer-inspired aesthetic. (Do we already have our girl group challenge winner?) Kiki says: “Anyone that knows me will be like, ‘It’s that bitch.’ Anyone who doesn’t know me is going to want to know me, because you’re gonna fall in love.”

Although the merch-ready queen attempted to “plead the fifth” on the above information about her Drag Race favourites, she ultimately conceded and revealed that her number-one queens from across the franchise are Jaida Essence Hall and Vanessa Vanjie Mateo, while she has a soft spot for the season where “Shea Couleé walked in for the first time”. As for the lip-syncs that live in her mind “rent-free”, it’s Vanity Milan’s iconic ‘Scandalous’ battle with Scarlett Harlett and Alyssa Edwards and Tatianna’s seminal showdown to ‘Shut Up and Drive’.

Of course, Kiki hopes to avoid the bottom two, but she acknowledges that, like the two aforementioned smackdowns, a lip-sync can be responsible for cementing a queen’s legacy. With that in mind, Kiki is self-aware enough to know that being on television is her opportunity to serve iconic moments and a bit of – here we go again – Ro’Sham Bo’Sham.

Kyran Thrax
26, Lancashire

Favourite RPDR alumni: Sasha Velour, Adore Delano, Bob the Drag Queen
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Adore Delano vs Trinity K. Bonet – ‘Vibeology’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6

When one has a self-proclaimed witch on a Zoom call, one selfishly takes advantage of their other-worldly gifts to foresee the future. So, here is Kryan Thrax’s prediction of how season six will be perceived by fans: “People are going to be thoroughly entertained, shocked, horrified… and turned on.” I am listening!

Crediting Lady Gaga as a main source of inspiration, Kyran is the drag daughter of season four’s Charity Kase – making her the granddaughter of U.S. champion Raja – so you can expect this 6”8 queen to be a conceptual fashionista of the horror variety. Oscar-worthy acting, too, because listen to her wildest experience in drag:

“A wife booked me for her wedding. It was her husband’s sixth marriage and he’d had a kid in each one. When the registrar said, ‘Does anyone have any reason why these two should not be wed?’ I burst through the door with a pregnancy bump and shouted at him, pretending to be his mistress. I’ve never seen a man look so horrified in his life. I then went into a spontaneous lip-sync of ‘I Will Survive’.” (We need footage, pronto.)

Despite this, Kyran actually admits that she’s scared of confrontation and doesn’t “like” drama. Inevitably, as a drag artist who is passionate about her craft, she’s not immune to conflict. “I won’t bite my tongue,” she teases, “if I need to say something I will. But I do internally scream anytime a bit of heat comes my way.” Good thing it’s Best Friend’s Race, then? “The cast is just phenomenal,” she says. “We work together incredibly well and this is the freshest season of Drag Race in a while. It’s got so much edge.”

La Voix
43, Stockton on Tees

Favourite RPDR alumni: Bianca Del Rio
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: [No answer]
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6

Between her appearances on Britain’s Got Talent and Queen of the Universe, as well as her viral mid-cruise Cameo where she learns of Queen Elizabeth’s death – “Bing bong, ‘the queen’s dead’, I’ll never forget that” – La Voix is undeniably one of the most prolific queens on season six.

“I feel like I’ve come out of retirement to do one of the most energetic shows of my life!” she says over Zoom – from another cruise, I should add. “It’s a strange turn of events because I said I’d never do the show, but a friend of mine applied for me. Funnily enough, I applied the same week to Bargain Hunt. I’m glad I didn’t get it. I don’t look good in a fleece.”

Despite her plethora of career achievements, which also includes pantomime with Cilla Black, singing at Ian McKellen’s birthday and standing metres away from the Queen as she busted moves to ‘Uptown Funk’ and ‘Gangnam Style’, nothing has put her “through the ringer” quite like Drag Race UK. “There are curveballs every step of the way. RuPaul does things he’s never done before, there’s lip-sync battles we’ve never seen,” she teases. “And don’t be thinking you know the order of challenges like, ‘Snatch Game goes there’ or ‘that game goes there’. No! They’ve given Drag Race a major shake-up. It’s fresh, new, exciting and everyone’s going to be mind-blown.”

Stranded on a non-moving cruise, the conversation takes a turn for the Ro’Sham Bo’Sham (see, it’s catching on!) as La Voix jokes about revealing her “red beaver live on television” for a potential celebrity edition of Naked Attraction. “You can tell I’m stuck at sea,” she laughs, before pleading: “Don’t leave me on this Zoom. You’re the only company I’ve got.”

Lill
36, Manchester

Favourite RPDR alumni: Violet Chachki
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Dida Ritz vs The Princess – ‘This Will Be’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 5

A member of the Family Gorgeous, Lill says her conceptual sense of style is her biggest strength; a no-brainer considering the legendary drag dynasty also includes powerhouses such as Asttina Mandella, Cheddar Gorgeous, Dragula’s Anna Phylactic and Manchester legends Liquorice Black and Tete Bang.

Lill describes the collective as all different from one another, but claims she’s the “fun one, the one you wanna go on a night out with”. Case in point: she often does gigs abroad, and was once stranded with season five alum Banksie after skiing down a “really dangerous” slope in full drag. “We didn’t know how to stop,” she remembers in-between tears (my tears, because the story had me cackling). Another career highlight, she says, is when she appeared on Lorraine with the Family Gorgeous to promote their Channel 4 series Drag SOS, where the Scottish ally proceeded to call her a – warning, this is just so cruel and wicked – “Queen Pie”: Lill says: “I’m not entirely sure why.”

With her name standing for Living in Lavish Luxury, I was completely convinced when Lill informed me that she’s speaking to me from a Turkey hotel room because she’s getting “new tits and teeth”. So convinced, I had to investigate whether or not this was true. Still not sure, actually, so this either means a) she’s taking advantage of her newfound celebrity status and getting All Stars-ready or b), she’s the deadpan queen of the season and I’m a daft bitch. “I’m having all my teeth replaced with wooden pegs [like Katie Price],” she says. “I hope you like them when I see you next.”

Marmalade
24, Cardiff

Favourite RPDR alumni: Sasha Velour
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Trinity the Tuck vs Charlie Hides – ‘I Wanna Go’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6

After supporting her respective drag mother and grandmother Tia Kofi and Victoria Scone on their seasons, and creating garments for them, it’s Marmalade’s time to sweep the competition. “Everyone’s going to expect me to kill a design challenge, which is fair,” she admits. “But keep on eye on those other challenges. I’m an actor first and foremost. I’ve done musical theatre, I’m a singer.” Death drops, too? “Oh no, no, no. I wouldn’t be getting up.”

Inspired by Hollywood stars such as Lana Turner, Rita Hayworth and Faye Dunaway, as well as Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn in Death Becomes Her, Marmalade is known for her vintage aesthetic with a “modern twist”. In addition to Tia and Victoria, she’s created runways for Drag Race UK contestants “every year” – her services were even requested by a mystery queen for season six. “I won’t say who, but I had to tell them, ‘Sorry, I’m busy!’ I then saw her in the werkroom and I think she sorted it out in the end, can’t confirm or deny. I don’t want to spoil!”

Echoing the comments from her sisters about the many “firsts” on season six, Marmalade says she’s never seen a season of Drag Race UK where the entire cast are determined to show “not just great drag, but great TV as well”: “We didn’t hold back, and it made for an exciting and dynamic addition to the UK franchise that takes it into a direction it’s never been before.”

Rileasa Slaves
32, London

Favourite RPDR alumni: Mo Heart
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Dida Ritz vs The Princess – ‘This Will Be’
Favourite RPDR season: UK season 2

“You know my number, Rihanna, I’m happy to do a feature!” Rileasa Slaves says after sadly confirming the Drag Race superfan and future guest judge (?) has not made contact with her doppelgänger. “Put me in lingerie bitch. Savage X Fenty, hello? Click, click. Send me some free makeup.”

Embracing her status as the season’s “shapeshifter” – Rileasa’s mug has also been compared to Rita Ora and Andra Day – she wants fans to know that she’s not an official impersonator of the ‘Shut Up and Drive’ songstress, she’s simply a “quarterback in a wig”. “Baby, baby, baby. I feel offended for Rihanna. She’s a gorgeous Caribbean goddess!”

As the franchise’s first representation of the House of Emancipation – also including her legendary drag mother Freida Slaves – Rileasa is inevitably feeling the pressure, but she’s ready to demonstrate why her dynasty dominates London’s drag scene. “The world is finally tuning in, baby. All these people are finally tapping into Rileasa’s world, her universe, her cosmos. She’s intergalactic, honey!” she says. “I wanted to fly the family flag and give credit to my mama, who paved the way. Also, just to give some melanin representation is important, to sprinkle some sea water on the BBC.”

A trained contemporary dancer, Rileasa has been known to slay the clubs with a bit of “puss and boom ka-ka-ka” (spelling?). But, she says the keyword here is “retired”: “She got old! She knows how to open her legs and drop into the splits, but don’t be expecting flips and dips and tricks, honey. I love my meniscus.” Rileasa does guarantee, however, to serve “womana” and “body-ody-ody”: “I mean, does she need to pad when she does pilates?”

Saki Yew
33, Manchester

Favourite RPDR alumni: Marina Summers
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Nina Bonina Brown vs Valentina – ‘Greedy’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 6

Although she’s “booked and blessed” as a Manchester queen, Saki Yew has made history (said that a lot in this article, haven’t I?) as the first Drag Race UK queen to be born in Australia. More incoming: she and Zahirah are also the UK’s first competitors of Filipino descent. (UK vs the World not included!) So, what do you get when you infuse Mancunian, Australian and Filipino culture into one queen? “Frankenstein,” apparently!

Boasting thirteen years in the drag industry, Saki once took a hiatus to pursue a dance career. Now, she’s back, back, back and ready to be catapulted to superstardom to serve “looks, sass and a dulled down Australian accent”. A musical theatre queen that can sing and “crochet” the house down, Saki is eager to compete in the Rusical and girl-group challenge as “it shows off what I was trained to do”.

For Saki, now was the right time for her to compete on the Olympics of Drag because she’s at her “peak”. More importantly, though, Saki just wants to showcase good drag. “I don’t really have an agenda with it,” she shares. “I just want fans to be entertained and see the love and effort and sweat and tears we put into our art.” But as we know, it’s not as simple as that, is it? “Everyone’s going to have their little armies [on social media], but like I always say, ‘Their opinion is none of my business,’” she says, which was met with an extremely gay finger-wag from me. “I don’t really care!”

Zahirah Zapanta
28, Nottingham

Favourite RPDR alumni: M1ss Jade So
Favourite RPDR lip-sync: Manila Luzon vs Delta Work – ‘MacArthur Park’
Favourite RPDR season: US season 3

With Drag Race’s long-awaited Asian renaissance, from bananactivist Nymphia Wind conquering season 16 to Marina Summers giving “colonisers the chop!” on UK vs the World and, of course, the universal acclaim of Philippines, Zahirah Zapanta is ready to “receive the love” she deserves. “I’ve supported Marina on tour and she’s a force to be reckoned with. [Their success] makes me so proud to be an Asian queen,” says the Filipina Goddessa, who also wants to use her platform to continue defying archaic stereotypes that Asian people are “shy and reserved – I’m nothing of the sort!”

Making history as the first Drag Race UK contestant *born* in the Philippines, the Nottingham-based star credits season three, All Stars 1 and 4 alum Manila Luzon with “kick-starting” her foray into drag. “I was like, ‘Oh, a man can dress up as a woman and receive accolades? Yes please,’” she explains. But, there’s one recent contestant in particular that’s captured her heart. “M!ss Jade So from Philippines season two is an icon. The things that come out of her mouth, wow. Her mind! Her cortex!” Yes, we’re somewhat diverting from season six here but this is of extreme relevance because, as she teases, a friendship (and a potential joint tour) is on the horizon (!!!). “She DM’d me this morning and I was like, ‘Let’s do something’. Can you imagine?”

On season six, Zahirah claims to be a queen who doesn’t start drama, but can “participate”: “Like, if you put it in my direction, I’m throwing it straight back at you. If you hit me hard enough, then something is gonna come out of my mouth because it only takes a matter of time, baby.” As we conclude these interviews, I ask Zahirah to throw some adjectives my way for season six: “Chaos. Fashion. Fierce.”

Drag Race UK season 6 premieres 26 September on BBC Three and BBC iPlayer. 

The post ‘A new direction for the franchise’: Drag Race UK stars on “mind-blowing” season 6 appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The rising musician finds his feet on a debut album which explores ‘losing the breakup’ and creative misdirections turned good.

Words by Zoya Raza-Sheikh

If you’ve listened to his music, it will come as no surprise that Dhruv Sharma is a Pisces. Known mononymously as Dhruv to his fans, the singer-songwriter crafts compellingly introspective pop and gained attention for earworm ‘double take’ at the dawn of TikTok music virality in 2021. Since then, he’s further proved his water sign credentials with delicate songs exploring memory, nostalgia and an acute awareness of his internal emotional temperature.

Originally hailing from London, the British-Indian musician moved to Singapore at the age of two and recalls an eclectic musical initiation which spanned Hindi-language songs from Bollywood movies, chart-topping pop and British ballads from the likes of Adele and Amy Winehouse. Early on, his taste in tunes spanned continents – perhaps giving rise to his international appeal, which has seen the artist chart in the Philippines, Thailand, Malaysia and Singapore.

When he talks to GAY TIMES, the 25-year-old artist is on the precipice of a major milestone in his creative journey: the release of his debut album Private Blizzard. Honest and vulnerable – single ‘Speed of Light’ explores the feeling of having ‘lost’ a breakup – it marks a major evolution for the artist, and his most stirring work to date.

Below, we catch up with the singer-songwriter to go deep on the new album, discuss his formative musical memories and to hear about the queer artists who shaped him.

How are you today – what have you been up to?

I flew into London this morning from New York. I spent like half the day sleeping and half the day catching up on the work I missed while I was sleeping. So, overall, a wash of a day. It’s 11pm and I’m probably going to be up for a while because of the jet lag.

Not ideal! So, onto the music. Since making your breakthrough in 21, what have you learned about yourself?

I’ve learned to trust my intuition more. This job can be a mind fuck and sometimes the “rational choice” isn’t the best one – I’ve had to learn that the hard way. I’ve also become better at separating my self-worth from commercial performance. After my song ‘double take’ went viral in 2021, I felt like I had to create some big statement song that recaptured the success of it. For a few months I was consumed with this idea and made shit music that I hated. I’ve definitely come back to a place of making things because I love them, even if no one else does, and that’s where I want to be forever.

Your style is eclectic, blending different sonic influences into a cohesive sound. What music did you grow up listening to?

My parents are from India and they mostly listened to Hindi songs from Bollywood movies. I absorbed a lot of that. At the same time, I was obsessed with the music I’d hear on the radio in the taxis in Singapore, where I grew up. It was a lot of mainstream pop but there were also songs like ‘Back to Black’ and ‘Chasing Pavements’, which remain two of my favourite songs to this day. I feel really nostalgic for that era of British soul music in the 2000s.

You have a huge international audience – what do you think makes people connect with your music?

I’m not sure. I only write songs from personal experience and I think listeners can feel when something is real and when it isn’t.

Who are the LGBTQIA+ artists that inspire you most and why?

I will always have a soft spot for Troye Sivan’s music. His album Blue Neighbourhood felt like a true friend when I was closeted in high school. I’ve loved all of his records since, especially his In A Dream EP.

What’s your favourite music memory?

Playing shows in India last summer. Most of my extended family live there and I never really imagined a world in which they would get to see me play. My grandmother, who is 90, came to my Delhi gig and brought all of her friends which was really cute. It was surreal to play a sold-out show and then to go home and sleep in the bedroom I spent a lot of my childhood in.

Can you tell us more about your debut album, Private Blizzard?

The contrast of the words “private” and “blizzard” is a good indication of what it’s going to sound like. It’s intimate and vulnerable but sonically very big. Lots of instruments. I made it in Nashville, which is famously called ‘music city”, and we had a group of really phenomenal live musicians play on every song on the album.

What did the creative process for this album look like?

I wrote a lot of it outside of the studio and workshopped the lyrics in coffee shops, libraries and train stations. The process spanned different cities, too: New York, London, Singapore and Nashville. My main collaborator, JT, would then help me refine it in the studio and would hone in on the production details.

What is something you learned to embrace while making the album?

The uninspired moments. There’s nothing linear about making an album and at some point in the process I stopped beating myself up for having an unproductive day. I just kept persisting with it and reasoned that it was all a part of the process of creating. Wrong turns eventually lead to right turns.

What’s the meaning behind your song ‘Speed of Light’?

‘Speed of Light’ is about feeling like you ‘lost’ the break up. It’s watching an ex quickly move on and wondering whether they really cared about you as much as they said they did.

Lastly, what are your big plans after the album?

I’m opening for Jordan Rakei in Europe. Then, I’m heading on my own solo run in the US and Asia at the top of next year.  A deluxe Private Blizzard could be in the works or maybe even a new album entirely. I’m trying to keep an open mind.

Private Blizzard is out now on RCA Records.

The post After stumbling upon viral success, Dhruv is learning to trust his intuition appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The British singer-songwriter speaks with GAY TIMES about her lauded fifth album, the need more for “union” between feminists and trans people and the future of her cult queer comedy GLOW.

WORDS BY SAM DAMSHENAS
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DORA PAPHIDES
FASHION BY RÍON HANNORA
MAKEUP BY OONAH ANDERSON
HAIR BY YO ALEXXI KRUIZ
SET DESIGN BY MACY TRIEU-DINGLE
SET ASSISTANTS ERELIN CRAY, DOM BLENCOWE
MOVEMENT DIRECTOR LIAM JOHN
LIGHTING ASSISTANT JOSH HAMMAREN

“Rhonda would be such a good vampire slayer,” Kate Nash (correctly) says of her Britannica wrestler-scientist in GLOW. Minutes into the Zoom call, Buffy is the main topic of conversation as a result of a) my incredibly fashion-forward season one t-shirt and b) Kate’s shared love of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s pop culture juggernaut, having previously paid tribute to the series’ seminal musical episode, ‘Once More, with Feeling’. This is all relevant, as the British singer-songwriter goes on to tell me that she was going ‘Going Through the Motions’ like the aforementioned heroine with her fifth studio album.

9 Sad Symphonies, her first release in six years, is also Kate’s darkest and most honest collection to date. Tackling heavy themes of existentialism and depression, it reflects how she “lost a spark for life” over the past 12 years: “And I’ve always been a really sparky person. It’s a weird feeling to be like, ‘The gas is on so low and I just can’t turn it up.’” Like Buffy felt from being expelled from heaven, Kate admits that she often thinks, “What the fuck is the point in all this?”

All of the above awaits in the following interview, as well as Kate discussing the importance of her LGBTQIA+ relationships, from her loyal fans to her band members, the need for “more union” between feminists and the trans community and why “breaking down gender is key in our fight to equality”. Of course, an interview with Kate Nash wouldn’t be complete without (as we teased in the opening sentence – it all comes full circle!) a chat about GLOW, Netflix’s cult comedy that deserves a revival in order for world peace to take full effect.

Kate, I was going to change my t-shirt before this interview, but then I remembered that you are, like me, a huge Buffy freak.

Oh my god, I really am. Your t-shirt is iconic. That’s the picture from season one, isn’t it?

It is indeed. Before we get into it, I need to know your favourite episode – besides ‘Once More, with Feeling’.

Season five is my favourite. They’re adults and totally established. Willow was in a gay relationship. It’s so sexualised with the witchcraft but in this really beautiful way. In season four, I always remembered her and Tara kissing, but they didn’t. I actually spoke to [Amber Benson] the actor who plays Tara, because they do kiss in season five, right?

Yes, in ‘The Body’, the episode Buffy’s mum dies.

It was a groundbreaking episode of TV. I love the season because you start with so much hope, and then Buffy dies. It’s so heroic and scary, and it feels like she really evolves. It’s almost like completely saying goodbye to your childhood. It is my childhood. Also, Spike’s line, “Out. For. A. Walk… Bitch” is one of my favourites. But what is my favourite episode… What’s yours?

Season five is also my favourite, so I think it has to be the finale, ‘The Gift’.

That finale is fucking amazing. You know how people felt about Nirvana? That’s what Buffy was to me. And I feel like her secret identity was such a thing for queer people, and girls. For anyone who was considered an outcast or had to pretend to be something they’re not, or if you weren’t out as a teen, there was something about Buffy that made you feel like, ‘I connect to this’.

Kate, this could honestly just turn into a Buffy interview, so we have to be careful.

We could just talk for 40 minutes and then start a new Zoom and talk about Buffy for another 40 minutes.

I am so down, Kate. So, how does it feel to have your first album out in six years?

It’s flown by, really. I finished touring in 2019, then we started season four of GLOW and then got shut down for the pandemic. The last few years have been really figuring out my team because I got all these offers from labels and management through TikTok. Isn’t that crazy? It was like a flashback to my MySpace days. It took me time to find the right manager. I’ve never had a good manager, but I do now.

What did that decision look like, because I know in the past you’ve spoken about your difficulties with record labels, as well as the gross men at the top?

It’s a very shady industry. There’s no HR department or someone to go to in times of trouble. The people you’re supposed to go to in times of trouble are the ones that fuck you over; a bunch of, mostly, coke-heads that wanted to hang out with bands by being their manager. Part of that is the nature of the work, because it’s at night time, an environment that’s not professional. There’s a wildness in that that should stay, because music spaces are exciting and not traditional, but we do need things to change. I feel so lucky to finally be in this place. I’m starting fresh in a weird way with the label, agent and new management. They’re sane, passionate and thoughtful. It’s so cool to feel good about a new team because they’re just music nerds who love music. They’re investing in me as a person and an artist, so that feels really safe.

Sonically, 9 Sad Symphonies feels light and hopeful, but the lyrics are quite the opposite. When I heard ‘Millions of Heartbeats’ I honestly thought, ‘Fucking hell,’ as I really resonated with the existential themes. Was that intentional, that dichotomy between the production and lyrics?

I like that juxtaposition with music sounding joyful. 60s girl groups always did that well. ‘Stop! In The Name of Love’ by The Supremes is at every wedding, yet it’s about a woman begging her husband not to cheat on her anymore. [‘Millions of Heartbeats’] is about the feeling of living in these catastrophic times, where we are constantly reading something fucking insane. I lost a spark for life, and I’ve always been a really sparky person. It’s a weird feeling to be like, ‘The gas is on so low and I just can’t turn it up.’

When people ask how you are, you don’t want to be like, ‘I’m depressed and I don’t understand my purpose.’ You’re getting numb and disassociating because you’re like, ‘How do I have hope in all of this?’ It was important to start the record that way. It’s like ‘Going Through the Motions’ from ‘Once More, with Feeling’. Buffy’s like, ‘I’m slaying after being expelled from heaven, what the fuck is the point in all of this?’

I think about that video, ‘The Pale Blue Dot’, where Earth looks tiny, like a speck of dust in the universe. It’s the feeling I get when you look at the stars; everything matters and nothing matters. Yet here we are, fighting over somebody elbowing you on the tube when there’s war and bloodshed. We have this one life, as far as we know. It’s grappling with that like, ‘No, I need to try’. Earth is really fucking beautiful and it’s amazing to be alive. And there’s a version where I didn’t make it this far. I just turned 37, and not everyone gets to turn 37. It’s a privilege to age, grow and keep pushing forward. These are the themes I grappled with on the album, that lack of purpose.

Is it weird that I’m currently at a point where all of what you just said makes absolute sense to me?

No, I’m glad. I feel relieved because sometimes I’m like, ‘Is this too much for people?’ I think we’ve got it so wrong with branding and individualism and identity on social media driving the self forward for maximum profit. What actually feeds your soul is community, and that’s why I think queer people are a lot more in touch. I was talking about this with my trans friends, because there’s actual safety in community. There’s less in-built community with straight people because socialising is about… I mean, go to a fucking wedding. Everything’s tied to a woman’s purity of being sold to her husband by her dad. I have progressive friends but I’ll go to their wedding like, ‘Are you kidding me?’

Jane Goodall says you have to think locally, and that’s how you make a difference in the world. You’re one person, but you really fucking matter and your voice can impact so many lives. Local community work is really important in saving democracy. This guy, Robert D. Putnam, says you cannot save democracy by just focusing on saving democracy. I think about that on social media, where we all need to become the news.

There is a thing about protest and spreading awareness, right? But there’s also socialising and joining a community. He tells people to join a club because you’ll be instantly participating in democracy without realising it. I love that idea because we’re so focused on screaming at each other in really adolescent ways, and it’s helping push people to the far right. Twitter has really helped the far right and fascism, and who’s in charge of Twitter? Who is the glass ceiling of Twitter?

I mean, my “For You” page has been flooded recently with anti-trans accounts and rhetoric, when I do not engage with that kind of content whatsoever.

It’s bait for you to get pissed off, so they can earn money from you being upset. It’s scary to think that the world is being manipulated by these rich billionaire boys who read sci-fi novels and own tech companies. Like Elon Musk, who has designed cars to look like 80s sci-fi cars. I’m not using Twitter anymore and I’m not the main user on my Instagram account. I got a new phone and I’ve got two-step verification, and because of that, my new phone wasn’t the main phone. So, my manager is the main user. I was about to text my manager like, ‘We need to swap it so I’m the main user’ but then thought, ‘Wait, this will make my life so much better.’ Now, I can’t get into Instagram without my manager approving it, and I’m really happy with that because I’m not mindlessly scrolling. Instagram makes me dumber. I have this fear that, on my deathbed, I’ll see an angel who will tell me I spent 14 years of my life on Instagram. Like, what a waste of my fucking life. I can’t be headed towards 40 and still be addicted to it.

All of this honesty is absolutely reflected in the album. You’ve always been extremely authentic in your lyrics, but I don’t think you’ve ever been this existential and vulnerable, so this time around, how did it feel using music to communicate those feelings?

It’s quite vulnerable. I’m in therapy at the moment. I’m also releasing music on a record label again and living in London, which I haven’t done for 10 years. I came back because I needed to be here to release this music, but it’s very confronting. I think playing shows and meeting the people that connect to your music is the thing that grounds you the most. It makes it all worth it. I’ve been doing this since 2006, and there’s so many parents coming with their kids. There’s teenagers at my shows, which blows my mind. I’ll have a 16-year-old that knows all the words and after the show they’ll tell me, ‘This makes me so nostalgic.’ I’m thinking, ‘For when?! How old are you? How can you be nostalgic?’ And they’re like, ‘For when I was eight.’

Made of Bricks is this entry point to my music, kids can connect with ‘Mariella’ in essence and then grow up with it. At Rough Trade in Nottingham, a dad was with his daughter and he came up to me after to say, ‘I didn’t want to get emotional, but your music taught me how to be a better dad.’ And he started crying. I’m like, ‘This is so surreal, where it’s gotten to.’ Now I’ve got young adults that were teenagers when my album came out and they’re pregnant, which is this amazing, mind-blowing thing. It’s beautiful to be part of people’s relationships in this intimate way.

Speaking of fans, you’ve gained an extremely passionate following since your debut album – particularly amongst queer women. We have to acknowledge GLOW’s impact too. When did you first notice that support, and how would you describe your relationship with your fans?

I really noticed it the first time I went to San Francisco, and I noticed so many couples standing in front waiting for me to sing ‘Nicest Thing’. As soon as I did, they would start making out with each other and I was like, ‘Yes!’ I’m a feminist and loads of my employees are trans and they’re my best friends and family. We’re having loads of conversations at the moment because there’s healing to be done. Like, the way I’ve talked about feminism in my shows over the past 18 years, I can see how that’s impacted my fans. Recently at a show… I have lots of great male fans, but I also have a type of male fan that has limited emotional availability, and they don’t know how to communicate. They get a bit too drunk and neg me during the show. I’ve got to a point where, when that happens, my fans told him off and got him to stop. I don’t even have to be the one to do it anymore. I’ve thrown people out before because I’ve had guys throw condoms at me during ‘Foundations’. I’ve talked about feminism so much that my fans take care of it in a calm and amazing way. So, I just feel like this platform can be used for so much good. If you have queer and trans people in your life, we need to share the space because it makes us better people.

I love that – not the negging part, but how your fans come together. As you mentioned, you have lots of queer friends and band members. How important are those relationships to you?

My drummer Maxie, who is trans masc, and I have been talking about what we can do to show positive union and representation for trans fans and cis people at shows. At Glastonbury, he asked me if he could take his shirt off and I said ‘Yeah, for sure’. He came around to the front of the stage and we all took our end-of-show bow. He recently had top surgery and his scars were proudly on show in front of thousands of people. He saw queer people in the crowd that could identify with him, and there was something so powerful yet simple about that kind of validation he was able to give others – and himself. With the work we do as musicians, moments like that can be hugely impactful. Being on stage opens up potential for influence in a really beautiful and unique way.

Feminism has taught me so much about how our differences are strengths, and how we each have the right to identify how we please, how we have to try and find ourselves out of the male gaze and patriarchy. Breaking down gender and intersectionality is key in our fight for equality. People seeing the exploration of gender as a threat to feminism have it wrong. We have to work so hard to figure out who we actually are outside of what the world has told us a man or woman should be; to step outside the male gaze, religion and media is so hard. Plus, these ideas are not new. Just dig into history. History is so fucking key to us getting perspective and shedding our egos about what we think are new ideas. ‘Urania’ was a zine that was first printed in 1916 by feminists who wanted to contest the “gender binary and celebrate same-sex love”.

The non-binary people in my life are so influential to me. Being able to express yourself outside the gender binary is powerful and exciting, and it makes sense: it’s only going to help us smash ceilings. My best mate and guitarist, Boom Buratto, is one of the most influential people in my life and their perspective and philosophies are hugely important to me. We’ve been through sexism, feminism, homophobia, the music industry, world politics, relationships. They constantly do the work to break down the world they were raised in, while also respecting so much about history, family and their homeland. Identity is emotional and a total wrestle. It’s integral to me at this stage in my life to question things we have accepted as the norm, from gender to wedding practices to internet use habits, relationship expectations, monogamy… Even the makeup and clothes I wear, all attachments I’ve been taught or influenced by. I believe the more union we can build between feminists and trans people, the safer and better we can make the world and be more free as humans. I’m angry at feminism being dragged through the dirt when it comes to trans rights because there’s such a fucking bond and union there. We can create a bigger space of there being a positive connection between feminists and trans people. I’m working on a manifesto about feminism and trans people, because in the media we have these spokespeople that are the main focus of the trans feminist debate.

I would love to briefly touch upon GLOW, aka one of the best shows of all time that was, in one of the cruellest and most unjust decisions in history, cancelled by Netflix. In your recent piece for The Guardian you said it saved your life?

There’s moments in your career where you’re like, ‘That changed fucking everything.’ I was dealing with my manager stealing from me and I was very frozen. I didn’t know how I was going to have a music career and carry on. I’m not from a background where I have an infinite supply of funds, so it put a grenade in my career. I was lost and confused. Then I booked GLOW, but my confidence was in the gutter. Everything I’d been through, from the media to this manager, I was like, ‘It’s my fault. You put it all on yourself.’ Then I went into a wrestling ring with Chavo Guerrero and 14 female comedians. These women physically and emotionally lifted me over their shoulders. They’re still my family, all of them. I know that’s not accessible to everyone, but I cannot recommend that enough for building confidence.

It’s like what you said earlier about joining a community.

Yeah, you’re a team. We trained like a sports team. We had such a deep bond and I think we always will. I laughed everyday until my abs hurt. We would be creasing, dying with laughter. It was one of the best times in my life. I’ll always feel like I won something. I’m like, ‘I fucking got GLOW.’ Then I get to take away those relationships that I’ll always have in my life. Bring back GLOW!

You were so iconic as Rhonda. In another universe, she’s absolutely a vampire slayer.

Oh my god, Rhonda would be such a good vampire slayer in those outfits. Imagine how many vampires we could kill?

Kate, it needs to be brought back for reasons pertaining to world peace. I mean, we live in a world where Two and a Half Men ran for 12 seasons. Think! About! That!

Worst show ever.

9 Sad Symphonies is out now.

The post Kate Nash: ‘People seeing the exploration of gender as a threat to feminism have it wrong’ appeared first on GAY TIMES.

The musician opens up about comphet culture, Rina Sawayama’s influence on her music career and her new single ‘Blame Me’

WORDS BY ZOYA RAZA-SHEIKH
PHOTOGRAPHY BY YASMIN SUTEJA

Right now, it’s Ayesha Madon’s moment. Poised, face illuminated by a beaming ring light, the 26-year-old Australian actress is grinning over Zoom. And, of course, she’s excited. In recent years, a lot has been at play for Madon – she’s garnered high praise for her lead role in Netflix’s campy teen series Heartbreak High and picked up nominations including the AACTA Audience Choice Award for Best Actress and the Logie Award for Most Popular New Talent. As season two of the hit show drops, Madon has been taking things easy, tending to areas of her life that matter most: her mental health and family. 

So, what does “just trying to survive” look like to an artist aware of the fame on the horizon? Well, it involves binge-watching Bridgerton, “keeping busy” and making time for music. More than anything, Madon wants to maintain being focused. Her debut single ‘Eulogy’, a deceivingly spritely pop track, ruminates on how we’d all like to be remembered by those closest to us. Whether she’s cutting in The Office quips in her music or singing about the inconvenience of crushes, Madon’s sound feels refreshing and entirely her own. While the artist only has two singles to her name, the 26-year-old has a seemingly clear idea of her direction – and that includes embracing pop music. “I started as a pop girlie and then, somewhere along the line, I felt this shame around being a pop writer,” she says. “This single, ‘Blame Me’ feels like straight-down-the-middle pop and I never thought I would let myself release something like that.”

Taking a brave step in a new direction is what drives Madon. It’s here, she’s making her Olivia Rodrigo pivot, delicately balancing acting and music as she increasingly becomes known for both. But, outside of her career, she’s growing too – willingly opening up about her queerness for the first time and contemplating who her favourite LGBTQIA+ artists are. We catch up with the multi-hyphenate star to hear more about her grand plans as a new artist.

‘Euology’ was your big single and it peels back the layers of what insecurity can feel like and what we think of other people’s perspective of us. What inspired that song? 

After Heartbreak High came out, I felt like this constant expectation to be perfect and that everyone endowed me with this. I was like ‘fuck, I wish I realised how much of a mess I am’ and I wish I knew that nothing was perfect, even the people I watch in TV shows. I was exacerbated by the pursuit of perfection and how imperfection actually becomes quite taboo to talk about. In ‘Eulogy’, I laid it all out there because I felt like I was not living up to the image that was being put onto me, it didn’t feel true. 

Within TV shows your role is scripted, you’re assigned a wardrobe and you’re expected to embody a character – everything is curated for you. With music, that autonomy switches to you. What was it like to navigate that difference?  

It’s a nice dichotomy to have autonomy in one [position], and then for the other to be interpretive. Bearing your soul and being vulnerable through your art is how I approach music. I know a lot of musicians prefer character-driven writing, but my music is always personal to me and tied to my life. Sometimes, that can bear too much weight so it can be fun not always to have things about me and to live in a character where I have to interpret a writer’s work. With [Heartbreak High], I don’t even have to promote it. It’ll just come out and that’s that. 

Music has more autonomy. It’s nice to be able to tell my own story and who I am as an artist and take charge of that. Expression is super necessary as well. So I’d say they work symbiotically in keeping me engaged creatively.

How has being a musician and actor challenged you? 

I’ve learned when to put the pen down. When you have autonomy over something, you can hyper-fixate on it for too long, and you can be too pedantic with it to the point where perfectionism is just disabling you from actually making stuff and having momentum as an artist. 

With acting, you’ve only got as many takes as the director is willing to give you, and it teaches you collaboration because you don’t get to choose the edit — you have to let the work be and you have to trust the collaborators around you. Remembering that art is not about you, and just immersing yourself in the process, has so much magic. So, I think I’ve learned to let go of perfectionism.

Were you able to surrender to that feeling and process with the new single, ‘Blame Me’?

My process is usually to write by myself. I’m pretty attached to having autonomy and control as an artist. I wrote ‘Eulogy’ by myself, I co-produced it and produced the first demo of it. With ‘Blame Me’, I wrote it in a session. I never write music in a session because it always feels a little bit of a watered-down version of me. When I wrote ‘Blame Me’, truth be told, I didn’t like the song and I needed convincing to put it out. As time went on, I was in the studio again with Japanese Wallpaper, Gabriel Strum, who produced the song and it found its legs. 

Releasing ‘Blame Me’ has been an important step in trusting collaborators and not overthinking what I’m putting out. I withheld a lot of music for so long and it landed me in this place where I felt paralysed to not release music, so this single has been really important for me.

Our identities shape how we present ourselves and experience the day to day. For you, how has queerness or the LGBTQIA+ community shaped your life?

I only properly admitted, out loud, that I was bisexual two or three years ago. It feels recent. It’s pretty interesting watching myself be attracted to [girls]. My first kiss was with a girl. I’ve actually never spoken about my sexuality before in anything, so this is pretty new.

My first kiss was with a girl called Louise and I had the biggest crush on her. She was in my acting class when I was 11. I remember she was chewing gum and in order to kiss her I had to pretend that I wanted to try the gum! We kissed and it was amazing. Since then [with] how much more normalised it’s becoming, it has given me the courage to feel comfortable. Sometimes I feel like I’m a fake queer person because I’m not massive on queer culture. Sometimes, I feel that liking girls is not enough.

 We all discover our queerness differently – and there’s no right way of feeling “enough”. Some people use the lesbian master doc, while others just figure it out as they go…

What’s the master doc? 

It’s an online doc that prompts you to question your sexuality and reassess the influence of compulsory heterosexuality. It’s widely shared online and breaks down talking points on why you might be attracted to women – even Kehlani has read it!

When I was growing up, I felt myself being conditioned or gaslighted into thinking that I was straight. I look back now at all these signs that I’ve had crushes on girls my whole life but in my head, I was like ‘oh that’s just nothing!’

In the spirit of  Pride, we have to ask: who are your favourite LGBTQIA+ artists right now? 

Chappell Roan! Reneé Rapp and… Is Rina Sawayama queer? 

Yes, she’s pansexual! What was it about her music that appealed to you?

Rina Sawayama fully changed how I approached my artistry, 100%. She curates things so well. Every song feels song in a different fucking genre but she can handle it all and it somehow sounds unified. There’s something about her work that feels profound and that was always the type of music that I wanted to make. I wanted to make political music, I wanted to make ironic and funny music – I never saw anyone do it until Rina Sawayama. She kind of changed the game for me.

We’ve just had Pride Month (happy Pride!). What message you would share, as part of the community, to LGBTQIA+ readers? 

I’ve got one and I need to take my own advice. It’s one that applies to me and I think it applies to a lot of people, especially in a day and age where people are exploring their sexuality. It’s this: my pride message is, there is no right or wrong way to be a queer person. That is my pride message.

You’ve got a handful of exciting singles out, including ‘Blame Me’ which explores the inconveniences of crushes. Can you tell us about your bigger plans for your EP?  

I’m in the process of putting together an EP. Mental health is important to me, and it’s something that I’ve really struggled with in the last few years. The UK is probably way more progressive than Australia. But, in Australia, it’s still not talked about enough. My EP will be mainly centred around my mental health – and I’m excited to get out a body of work. It’s not going to be a perfect body of work, and I hope it’s not because I just need to put out stuff that I like. I’m learning to trust my instincts on that. So, this EP is going to be very instinctual to me and that is my goal. 

Ayesha Madon’s new single ‘Blame Me’ is out now. 

This interview has been edited for clarity. 

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