After reading Kera Bolonik’s Salon article about new wave music and how it gave her the courage to embrace her lesbian sexuality, I couldn’t help but think about the music I listened to when I was a sexually ambiguous, confused teenager who was filled with longing, uncertainty, and a face full of acne. In response, I offer my “I’m Coming Out” mixtape.
Joan Jett – Bad Reputation: I’d heard “I Love Rock and Roll” (ad nauseam), and even though I acknowledged Jett’s rock chops, it wasn’t until I heard the fast and furious chords of “Bad Reputation” that I realized just how sexy a rocker chick could be. I got a lot of mileage thinking about Jett’s blistering fingers ripping out those initial notes, and from the sight of her thighs encased in painted on blue jeans. If she didn’t care about her Bad Reputation and about the things people whispered about her behind her back, why the hell should I care? This was probably the start of my rebellious streak.
Depeche Mode – Blasphemous Rumors: Imagine a budding 16 year-old atheist who has long had problems with religion, who suffers from constant depression, uncertainty, confusion and self-loathing, and who also had the unfortunate experience of growing up as the child of an alcoholic. Said child was looked upon as a bright light, a “smart girl”, as “someone who will go far” but once puberty hit, the accolades stopped and the sullen teenager took the place of the rosy-cheeked girl who once wore pigtails. During my darkest moments late at night, I’d strap on my Walkman and play this song over and over again until I cried myself to sleep.
Grace Jones -I’ve Seen that Face Before: A weird looking black woman who wasn’t afraid to look different, sound different, or be different, and who found fortune in a distant land where people embraced and celebrated that difference? What’s not to like?
Yazoo – Nobody’s Diary: I was madly in love with my best friend in high school (who happened to be straight), and the very thought of disclosing my feelings to said friend made my blood run cold. Instead I played along, was never very far away, and tried to ignore the pains I felt in my chest whenever she looked at boys. I gained a lot of comfort from Alison Moyet’s rich, warm voice and pathos; the second verse mirrored the anticipated outcome of opening up.
The Smiths – How Soon is Now: Find me a queer kid who came of age during this period who didn’t identify with this song (and who didn’t paper their lockers with Morrissey posters), and I’ll gladly pay you five bucks. When I first heard the words “There’s a club if you’d like to go/you could meet somebody who really loves you/so you go and you stand on your own, and you leave on your own/and you go home, and you cry and you want to die” they articulated feelings that I long kept buried: I wanted nothing more than to reach out to someone who would not only acknowledge my feelings, but who would return them in kind. Being an introvert made reaching out difficult (if not impossible), and being a fat kid didn’t exactly do wonders for my self-esteem. The only thing I curled up with night after night was a tear-stained pillow.
Bronski Beat – Why: “Contempt in your eyes as I turn to kiss his lips…” marked the first time I became aware that people could hate you, beat you, and possibly even kill you for being queer. Needless to say, when this came out, I was heading into a newly defiant point in my life – not quite a baby activist, but not quite a simpering wallflower, either. Bronski Beat helped form my LGBT political awareness. They also gave me the courage to take some initial steps out of the closet when I was 16 years old when I finally told my two closest friends “I think I might be bisexual.”
The Smiths – There is a Light That Never Goes Out: Having two songs by the Smiths on a list like this might seem like cheating, but even now, some twenty-odd years later, whenever I hear this song I think of weekend nights riding shotgun in my best friend’s car. I loved her deeply, and fiercely, although to this day, I can’t really be sure if I wanted to bed her or to be her. One evening, after a couple of weeks of bickering and not getting along, she picked me up and we drove to our favorite cheapie mexican food joint for a fistful of 99-cent margaritas. She was crying into her drinks over some much older guy who was treating her poorly, and I couldn’t stand to see her cry. We tottered back to her car, and she held the door open on the passenger side. As I stood there with the door separating us, I very nearly leaned in to kiss her, but didn’t. When Morrissey sings “But in a darkened underpass, I thought ‘Oh, God,’ my chance had come at last/but then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn’t ask”, my heart breaks a little bit each time.
Marc Almond – Jacky: Seriously. How could I enjoy this song as much as I (still) do and not be queer? This song still holds the top spot on my “Top 10 Gayest Songs Ever” list. I can’t listen to it without envisioning myself as a drag queen; in later years, I actually started to see myself doing it at a drag king show, but let’s be real, I’m a little too girly to pull off the drag king thing.
These songs helped bolster my spirit. They were my friends when I felt alone, and in listening to them I began to find myself within the LGBT community. When I mentioned these songs to friends in high school, I knew that if they loved them just as much as I did that I at least had found an ally, or, if I was really lucky, found someone who understood what it felt like to be the unsure, outsider kid who just wants to find a place — any place — to belong. These songs were the foundations of some long-standing friendships and helped me develop the self-possession a young queer kid needs to make it in an often hostile world.
Honorable mentions:
Not all of the following are new wave songs, but they still loom large in my legend.
- Bronski Beat and Marc Almond: I Feel Love/Johnny Remember Me
- Me’Shell Ndegeocello – If That’s Your Boyfriend (He Wasn’t Last Night) (Child, it doesn’t matter what she calls herself these days, she could still get it if she wanted.)
- Diana Ross – The Boss (For some reason, every lesbian club in Atlanta used to play this song and the floor would be packed.)
- Adeva – Warning
- Sinead O’Connor - Mandinka and I Want Your Hands on Me
- Frankie Goes to Hollywood – Relax