Queer Artists Take Over AmericanaFest 2023

Abundance. If there is one word that comes to mind to describe the presence of LGBTQ+ artists and queer community support at AmericanaFest 2023, that word would be “abundance.”

My first time attending AmericanaFest was in 2021, when one of the only queer events was an inspiring Rainbow Happy Hour showcase presented by Country Queer at Vinyl Tap. We have come incredibly far in the two years since. It feels surreal to witness an abundance of queer artists, showcases and supporters at an Americana music festival and conference. But that magical feeling is rooted in the manifestation and hard work that queer artists and promoters have poured into finding and building our places in Americana music while uplifting LGBTQ+ voices.

This year, we saw many queer events and artists at the Americana Proud showcase, the Americana Honors & Awards, The Equal Access Showcase (presented by CMT, mTheory and Nashville Music Equality), the Queer Cowpoke Roundup, the Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree by yours truly, Queerfest and BGS, and many more.

Americana Proud at Nashville City Winery – Tuesday, September 19

On the first night of AmericanaFest, nearly 20 queer-identifying artists graced the stage at Nashville City Winery for two Americana Proud showcases lasting more than three hours. Organized by Autumn Nicholas, a queer artist themselves, it was incredible to take in Americana Proud knowing this was the first of many LGBTQ+ showcases and events to come at this year’s AmericanaFest.

Vidalia Anne Gentry, the dazzling drag queen who hosted the event, opened the show lip-syncing to Dolly Parton’s rendition of “Rocky Top.” Crys Matthews and Heather Mae sang validating, original lyrics, including, “Our love doesn’t have to look like everybody else’s.” Denitia and Julia Cannon warmed the audience with Denitia’s “All the Sweet Tea” and Cannon’s sweet harmonies.

Madeline Finn and Liv Greene wooed the crowd and Jaimee Harris touched our hearts with a song written about the Pulse Nightclub shooting – a mass shooting targeting an LGBTQ+ club in Florida that took place in June of 2016, claiming the lives of 49 individuals. The song, “Orange Avenue,” is written from the perspective of a victim who lost his life in the shooting.

The concert continued with many more outstanding up-and-coming artists, including Ally Free, Jett Holden, Kentucky Gentleman, Lila Blue, Jobi Riccio, Palmyra, ISMAY, Jessye DeSilva, Abby Posner and Madeleine Kelson with her iconic queer anthem “The Way I Do,” which declares, “God has never loved a woman the way I do.”

As a whole, the Americana Proud showcase artists presented touching lyrics, intricate guitar lines, memorable stories and warm, loving energy. It was the perfect way to kick off AmericanaFest 2023!

Brandy Clark and Brandi Carlile by Erika Goldring/Getty Images for Americana Music Association

The 22nd Annual Americana Honors & Awards – Wednesday, September 20

The Americana Honors & Awards show took place on the second night of AmericanaFest at the Ryman Auditorium. (See a full list of winners and honorees here.) There was anything but a lack of LGBTQ+ artists, with performances from Sunny War, Adeem the Artist, S.G. Goodman, Allison Russell, Brandi Carlile, Brandy Clark and Angel Olsen. Jobi Riccio also made an appearance singing harmonies with Emerging Act of the Year nominee William Prince and guitarist Joy Clark performed with Allison Russell’s band, the so-called “Rainbow Coalition.”

When S.G. Goodman took the stage, it felt like time stopped – a fitting feeling, as she performed her song “Space and Time” off of her 2020 album, Old Time Feeling. (The track was also recently cut by Tyler Childers on his latest release, Rustin’ in the Rain.) Goodman stood powerful in a black suit and red cowboy boots, her voice shaking through the Ryman, her lyrics honest, vulnerable and touching.

Goodman subsequently took home the award for Emerging Act of the Year. As she accepted the honor, the audience felt her authenticity, humor and gratitude. “I find myself pretty fortunate to have a lot of folks working beside me as if I’m making a million dollars when I’m not,” she said. “And aside from the million dollars part, I’m pretty fortunate in that, you know.”

Allison Russell earned the The Spirit of Americana / Free Speech in Music Award – and she really did earn it. Russell was instrumental in organizing the Love Rising benefit concert at Bridgestone Arena that took place on March 20, 2023. The show was stacked with many of the music industry’s top LGBTQ+ artists and allies, including Jason Isbell, Maren Morris, Sheryl Crow, Hayley Williams, Hozier, Brittany Howard, Jake Wesley Rogers, Julien Baker, Joy Oladokun, Fancy Hagood, Izzy Heltai, The Highwomen, Yola and more. Proceeds from the event were donated to the Tennessee Equality Project, Inclusion Tennessee, OUTMemphis and The Tennessee Pride Chamber.

Russell was presented her award, fittingly, by the “Tennessee Three,” State Representatives Justin Jones, Gloria Johnson and Justin Pearson, who were infamously expelled from the Tennessee General Assembly earlier this year.

Pearson announced to the Ryman, “Last session, Tennessee Republicans ran through a bill criminalizing certain kinds of healthcare for trans people under the age of 18, other bills criminalizing drag performance when minors are present, but didn’t pass a bill to ban assault weapons.”

“We’re either all equal, or none of us are equal,” Jones followed-up. “Or as we say in Tennessee, ‘Y’all means all.’”

(L-R) Gloria Johnson, Justin Jones and Justin J. Pearson, the “Tennessee Three” by Erika Goldring/Getty Images for Americana Music Association

We in the queer community are coming out of a long period of time when artists were kicked off of labels for coming out, when being in the closet was considered necessary to grow a career as an artist in the music industry (especially in country music spaces), entering a new era when many celebrate, uplift and openly work to build an inclusive industry filled with diverse backgrounds and identities.

As Russell gave her acceptance speech she declared, “We are not divided, we are united.” As a nominee for both Song of the Year and Artist of the Year, she returned to the stage throughout the evening. She was glowing, wearing a sparkly golden gown, rocking out on banjo backed by a band of women, queer folks and artists of color.

Equal Access: Presented By CMT, mtheory and Nashville Music Equality – Thursday, September 21

The Equal Access showcase took place on Thursday at Delgado Guitars and was developed by mtheory, which has a mission to empower artists and managers who come from underrepresented backgrounds within country music. They highlighted Gina Venier and Denitia, who proudly identify as members of the LGBTQ+ community, and Nat Myers and Bella White, as well.

Gina Venier played her iconic song titled “Nora Jane,” sharing her fears about coming out to her family. The song features lyrics like, “What’s my dad gonna do when I bring you home?” and, “I’m afraid everyone I love won’t love me the same. When I tell ’em your name, Nora Jane.” The song does an incredible job at showing the feelings, thought process and fears around coming out.

Good Ol’ Queer Country Jamboree by Queerfest + BGS – Saturday, September 23

Finally, our very own special event, a collaboration between Queerfest, BGS and Soho House Nashville featured Cidny Bullens, Chris Housman, Jett Holden, Amanda Fields & Megan McCormick and Adeem the Artist. To cap off the week of AmericanaFest events and programs, we gathered in the whimsical, exclusive garden at Soho House in Nashville’s Wedgewood Houston neighborhood on a perfect sunny and mild afternoon.

Cidny Bullens opened the show as our special, surprise guest, speaking on his experience as a transgender artist with a decades-long career pre- and post-transition. Chris Housman shared his reality of changing the pronouns in his songs at certain shows where acceptance and inclusivity aren’t a given, emphasizing how important it is to have spaces where artists feel comfortable being openly themselves. He played his viral single “Blueneck” with the well-loved lyric, “I guess I’m a red state blueneck.”

The next artist, Jett Holden, was introduced by Holly G, founder of the Black Opry, a collective building a supportive community for Black artists, fans and industry professionals in roots music. Holden touched on the experience of coming out and while he wasn’t disowned, he noticed queer conversations being shoved aside, and he felt unsure about where he stood with his family. Megan McCormick & Amanda Fields shared an incredible country- and bluegrass-infused set with upright bass supporting their graceful voices and melodic guitar lines intertwining in harmony.

Adeem the Artist was the culmination of our Jamboree, playing many queer-centered songs including “I Never Came Out,” from their 2021 breakout album, Cast Iron Pansexual. They spoke on their experiences encountering hate and queerphobia and transphobia at the festival earlier in the week and the difference between performative acceptance and truly doing the work. As Adeem closed out the event, they shared, “This was a nice vibe after a kinda shitty week,” underlining the importance of creating inclusive, LGBTQ-centered spaces. Soho House was filled with loving, supportive energy and was a perfect way to wrap up the last official day of AmericanaFest 2023.

Additional LGBTQ+ Showcasing Artists

In addition to queer-centered events and showcases, there were many LGBTQ+ artists who showcased, performed, or appeared at special events throughout AmericanaFest 2023, including but not limited to the following:

Aaron Lee Tasjan
Allison Russell
Ally Free
Abby Posner
Adeem the Artist
Amanda Fields
Amythyst Kiah
Austin Lucas
Autumn Nicholas
Brandi Carlile
Brandy Clark
Chris Housman
Cidny Bullens
Crys Matthews
Della Mae
Esther rose
Ever More Nest
Gina Venier
Heather Mae
Ira Wolf
ISMAY
Jaimee Harris
Jett Holden
Jessye DeSilva
Jobi Riccio
Joy Clark
Julie Nolen
Julian Talamantez Brolaski
Lila Blue
Liv Greene
Mary Gauthier
Megan McCormick
Melody Walker
Mercy Bell
Mya Byrne
Paisley Fields
Palmyra
Secret Emchy Society
Shawna Virago
Skout
Sunny War
Wiley Gaby

We’d like to acknowledge that these are merely the artists we encountered who overtly and publicly identify with the LGBTQ+ community and are currently open about their identities. There are surely many more, as yet not visible to us, who were also involved this year that we hope to highlight in the future.

We would also love to acknowledge the Queer Cowpoke Roundup event that took place at The Groove, a queer-owned records store in East Nashville, on Saturday afternoon featuring a lineup of Austin Lucas, Julian Talamantez Brolaski, Julie Nolen, Melody Walker, Mercy Bell, Secret Emchy Society, Shawna Virago and Wiley Gaby. Although there were often unintentional overlaps in queer events on the AmericanaFest schedule, it emphasizes just how abundant LGBTQ+ artists, events, organizations and promoters were at AmericanaFest 2023.

As a whole, it’s exciting to see this volume of phenomenal, openly LGBTQ+ artists showcasing, holding inclusive events and being nominated for and taking home awards. Experiencing the cultivated queer spaces at AmericanaFest was lovely – yes, there were several reports of queerphobia, transphobia, misogyny and hate being directed at and overheard by LGBTQ+ artists throughout the week, too. We’ve come so far, but we’ve still got a long way to go. Even so, we are holding gratitude for the critical mass of queer music and community at AmericanaFest 2023, and we look forward to continuing to develop a more inclusive music industry together.


All Photos: Erika Goldring/Getty Images for Americana Music Association
Lead Image:
Allison Russell; S.G. Goodman; Adeem the Artist; all by Erika Goldring

WATCH: Jaime Wyatt Sees a “World Worth Keeping”

“We kissed the ring from the billionaire’s sleeve, yeah/
We let ‘em poison the roots/
I’d like my people and yours to see/
All of the earth in its bloom…”

Alt-country singer-songwriter Jaime Wyatt has announced her upcoming album, Feel Good, to be released on November 3 on New West Records, with a fiery lead single, “World Worth Keeping,” and its accompanying video. The track, though overarchingly optimistic and forward-looking, features Wyatt’s booming country croon dripping both with righteous anger and a passionate love for the Earth. The content here is more than apropos for a summer of striking, of record-setting ocean and air temperatures, and of ongoing natural disasters like wildfires, tornadoes, and torrential downpours. Wyatt’s particular brand of queer alt-country is perfectly poised to tackle issues such as these and to offer an imagination of the future that isn’t just despairing and defeatist. Like Iris Dement on “Workin’ on a World,” Wyatt chooses to see a redeemable planet, instead of a lost cause, utilizing hope not as a privileged denial of the stark realities of our everyday, but as a radical act of resistance – resistance queer folks engage in perpetually, within or without hope.

Feel Good was produced by Black Pumas‘ Adrian Quesada and builds on Wyatt’s rhinestoned and glamorous Western-informed Americana sounds, folding in R&B, country soul, and so many more roots influences. There’s a confidence and ease Wyatt continues to grow into following her critically-acclaimed prior albums. “A lot of us grow up feeling like we have to hide who we are just to be accepted, but that comes from a place of fear and judgment,” Wyatt explains via press release. “I wrote these songs as a way of letting go of all that, as permission to feel good.”


Photo Credit: Jody Domingue

Tyler Childers Stunning “In Your Love” Music Video Was Written by Silas House

Traditional country phenom and Kentuckian Tyler Childers has announced his upcoming album, Rustin’ In The Rain (available September 8, 2023), with a brand new single and music video, “In Your Love.” Written and creative directed by New York Times bestselling author Silas House, the video tells a gay love story between two working class, Appalachian men – played by queer A-list actors and celebrities Colton Haynes and James Scully. The visuals for “In Your Love” tell one of country music’s most prominent and visible LGBTQ+ narratives to date, entering an industry landscape that has become more and more (openly) queer over the past decade.

“In Your Love” reminds of songs and albums released not just by left-leaning, more mainstream artists like Childers and Parker Millsap, but also by queer artists themselves, telling working-class stories and histories just like that constructed and depicted by House and director Bryan Schlam. In 2015, gay banjo player, singer-songwriter, and fellow Kentucky-resident Sam Gleaves released a landmark album, Ain’t We Brothers, which dripped with the exact same lived experiences and soot-tinged patina that inform Childers’ new video. In the past couple of years, releases by LGBTQ+ identified music makers like Amanda Fields, Willi Carlisle, Adeem the Artist, Amythyst Kiah, Jaimee Harris, and more trod similar ground. It’s notable still that an artist – however outlaw- or fringe-identified – as mainstream as Tyler Childers and with as broad a fanbase as his would choose to not only highlight queer, working-class storytelling, but to do so in a way that normalizes and re-centers these ways of being in Kentucky, the South, and Appalachia.

Rustin’ In The Rain will be released via RCA Records on Childers’ own imprint, Hickman Holler Records, on September 8. Via press release, Childers describes the inspiration that birthed Rustin’: “This is a collection of songs I playfully pieced together as if I was pitching a group of songs to Elvis. Some covers, one co-write, and some I even wrote in my best (terrible) Elvis impersonation, as I worked around the farm and kicked around the house. I hope you enjoy listening to this album as much as I enjoyed creating it. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Clearly, the legacy of “The King” is merely one way drama, mystique, nuance, entertainment, and Southern-ness coalesce within this new project from one of the most exciting voices and perspectives in country.


Photo Credit: Sam Waxman

Out Now: Queerfest & BGS Announce New Column with Guest Jobi Riccio

Welcome to OUT NOW! We are so excited to bring you the latest LGBTQ+ folk, roots, bluegrass, country, Americana, and indie songwriters, artists, and musicians. Who am I to guide you through the queer music industry? My name is Sara Gougeon. I founded and run Queerfest, which supports LGBTQ+ music by hosting monthly showcases and an annual festival in Nashville, promoting queer-identifying artists and creating spaces for our community. In 2022 Queerfest was named “Best New Music Festival” by The Nashville Scene.

This column is designed to amplify the voices of queer songwriters, musicians, and industry leaders. I am so excited to share just how talented, creative, and supportive the queer music industry is. We are delighted that the release of this column aligns with Pride Month, but we are even more excited to support LGBTQ+ music consistently year-round, beyond just the month of June. 

Our first artist is one that I am proud to have known for years, and I can write with undeniable confidence that their music is at the start of a career filled with national tours, stunning releases, and larger followings sure to come. 

I met the amazing Jobi Riccio in college when we were students at Berklee College of Music in Boston. They’ve come a long way since then: a record deal with Yep Roc, touring, and the move to Nashville. But I knew from day one that their music was exceptional. It is always a complete honor to promote incredible queer music. 

Jobi’s carefully crafted lyrics turn songs into movies. Melodies blend with smooth vocals, and mournful fiddle solos lift between lines. It’s the kind of music I catch myself playing for hours before noticing that I’ve fallen so deeply for a few songs that I could listen to them on repeat forever. 

And with that, I am deeply proud to present OUT NOW: Jobi Riccio.

BGS: What would a “perfect day” look like for you?

Jobi Riccio: A day spent primarily outside in the sun with those I love that ends playing songs in a living room or around a fire is really hard to beat. I also love being alone exploring nature and any day I spend hiking, biking, kayaking or doing any outdoor activity completely alone is always perfect and healing. 

Why do you create music? What’s more satisfying to you, the process or the outcome?

It depends on the day. I love performing just as much as I love songwriting and I view both as a very gratifying way to connect with myself and other people.

Do you create music primarily for yourself or for others?

I honestly don’t know. I create music when I’m feeling something big and feel I need to or have the ability to express it.  I’m not sure if it’s completely honest to say I write entirely for myself because sometimes those big feelings I’m experiencing stem from a desire to connect with others. 

Who are your favorite LGBTQ+ artists and bands?

Rufus Wainwright, Aaron Lee Tasjan, and Caroline Rose all come to mind as LGBTQ+ artists I’ve had in heavy rotation, but also those I’m lucky enough to consider friends: Liv Greene, Erin Rae, Brennan Wedl, Brittany Ann Tranbaugh, Palmyra, and Olivia Barton are all queer artists/bands I’m very inspired by. 

Is “Green Flash ” based on real feelings/experiences?

I started “Green Flash” during late spring of 2020, when I moved back home with my mom in Colorado. Lots of these existential crisis-y type thoughts were swirling in my head throughout my senior year of college, and the onset of the pandemic just sent them into overdrive. Most musicians have a fantasy of quitting music at some point and leading a “simple life” and I was caught up in that idea as I had nowhere to play and no hope of touring in the future.  Sometimes I find my songs function similar to journal entries — questions I ask myself or little prayers out into the universe — and I think “Green Flash ” functions that way.

One of the main lines in Green Flash is “I’m still learning how to trust a heart.” How do you find a balance between being open to love/vulnerability/life and not getting your heart hurt?

I love this question, I ask myself it almost everyday. More and more I’ve learned to push myself to be vulnerable and honest even when it’s scary because I might be hurt, because it’s the key to real connection with others and is where the true beauty in life lies. Learning how to be authentically myself has a lot to do with learning to trust my heart and myself, and it’s very much a daily practice. All and all, I’d rather be hurt than live in fear of being hurt. 

What are your release and touring plans for the next year? 

I am releasing my debut record, Whiplash, on September 8 and I’m extremely excited to get this body of work into the world. I’ll be touring around the record this year and next! 


Photo of Jobi Riccio: Monica Murray

Bluegrass Pride Invites LGBTQ+ Roots Music Fans to Porch Pride Festival

Out of 270 floats, companies, and queer associations, a roots music organization’s marching contingent was crowned “Best of the Best” at San Francisco’s world-famous Pride parade in 2017. And they did it on their very first try — the only organization to ever achieve such a feat. Who was that overalls-and-rainbow-glitter-clad crew of more than a hundred bluegrass fans, pickers, and professionals? Bluegrass Pride.

The Bluegrass Situation has been proud to support Bluegrass Pride since 2017, with our logo emblazoned on the inaugural float that carried three bluegrass and old-time bands down Market Street to the cheers of thousands of brand new “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” fans. In 2020, the nonprofit organization had planned its biggest Pride celebrations yet (in San Francisco; Portland, Oregon; Raleigh, North Carolina; and Nashville, Tennessee) while still welcoming the rural and non-metropolitan LGBTQ+ folks who love and make these musics, too.

Enter our most familiar villain, COVID-19. In response, Bluegrass Pride has shifted to a new concept, Porch Pride: A Bluegrass Pride Queer-antine Festival. Featuring more than ten hours of music by queer and allied artists such as Cathy Fink & Marcy Marxer, Molly Tuttle, Sam Gleaves, Jake Blount, Rachel Baiman, and more, the livestream event will air June 27 and 28 on Bluegrass Pride’s website, YouTube channel, and Facebook and Instagram pages. Porch Pride will raise money for Bluegrass Pride and all of the musicians on the bill. Fans and followers are encouraged to donate now.

To celebrate Porch Pride with our longtime friends at Bluegrass Pride, we connected with Executive Director Kara Kundert and powerhouse singer/songwriter and the digital festival’s “headliner” Amythyst Kiah.

BGS: For those unfamiliar with Bluegrass Pride, how would you describe it?

Kara Kundert: Oh, what a big question. In a purely statutory sense, I would say that Bluegrass Pride is a nonprofit organization devoted to the advancement of LGBTQ+ people within the bluegrass, old-time, and broader roots music traditions. To get a little bit more descriptive, we work every day to make bluegrass a more welcoming place for people of all backgrounds. Our mission is to show the world that bluegrass is for everyone, so we try to create programs that serve all kinds of people who love and participate in American traditional music. We put on local beginner-friendly jams and create introductory video content to help people get involved with the community even as they’re just starting out, and we host concerts and showcases to create paid opportunities for professional musicians.

Amythyst Kiah: …Simply, my idea of what something like Bluegrass Pride represents: It is about accepting all forms of identity and expression in a style of music that is known for having a more traditional culture, and it’s also an outlet for queer people who don’t fit the stereotype of gay club culture. As iconic and important gay club culture is historically, it isn’t everyone’s experience.

How did the idea for Porch Pride come to you? 

Kundert: Via the incredibly talented Jake Blount! Jake is on the Bluegrass Pride board of directors and he came to me back in March (just as everything was starting to shut down and we were holing up for quarantine) to suggest that Bluegrass Pride host a digital festival to support artists in the face of the first round of gig cancellations. He had participated in the first iteration of the Stay At Home Festival and had seen how much energy and support there were for these artists, and thought that it was a natural fit for Bluegrass Pride and our mission.

At that point in time, it was still really unclear how long and how bad the COVID pandemic was going to be — we still believed that SF Pride was going to march down Market Street in June — so I was a little nervous to take on the project. I was worried that we wouldn’t have the resources to do everything and do it well. We started discussing smaller-scale projects, like weekly concert series or short little weekend showcases, things that we would have the budget to do in addition to our regular programming.

But within a couple of weeks, it became pretty clear that our whole season was going to change dramatically, and that was when the plan shifted from being “maybe we’ll host a couple of digital concerts to keep momentum before Pride” to creating Porch Pride and really making it the center of our entire year.

People don’t tend to think of bluegrass or roots music when it comes to Pride celebrations, and obviously y’all think that needs to change! Why? What does bluegrass and string band music bring to the greater LGBTQ+ community? 

Kiah: I see this event and organization as a way to formally recognize that LGBTQ+ have always been present in the communities where bluegrass and other roots-based music originated from. Historically, media has projected many ideas of what being queer looks and sounds like, and it’s high time to recognize and celebrate other ways of being and doing when it comes to music.

Kundert: I think that there’s a problem whenever people aren’t being represented. So it was a problem for bluegrass that LGBTQ+ stories and music weren’t being heard onstage. It was a problem when queer folks were being excluded from jams and from gigs just because of their identity. And it’s a problem for the LGBTQ+ community that this portion of our family isn’t being included in the conversation about what “gayness” is. We as a culture have this extremely metropolitan, white, male-centric idea of what the LGBTQ+ community is, which is what you really see on display on these corporate floats at the major cities’ Pride parades, and it leaves out so many people. There are as many ways to be queer as there are colors under the sun, and that’s something that we as a [bluegrass] community need to do more to embrace in order to support and uplift every single person in the LGBTQ+ community.

Amythyst, with your songwriting and your work with Our Native Daughters you’ve been a powerful voice, lifting up Black songs and stories. How does that perspective as a Black woman complement Bluegrass Pride for you? What do these two movements have in common, and what do they combine?

Kiah: Both movements involve recognizing and uplifting marginalized voices, due to the continued generational trauma that both have had to endure. Being Black, a woman, typically gender-nonconformant, and queer, I have experienced some form of questionable actions, treated as if I was invisible, and [received] looks of contempt by other people. I am fortunate that I haven’t experienced much worse, but that being said, I was terrified of my own shadow for years before I really started to embrace myself and be myself. So Bluegrass Pride is about recognizing that we all have value, just as Songs of Our Natives is about.

Kara, planning a Pride event can be a major undertaking. What is the reward for you, on a personal level, after putting in so many hours to prepare?

Kundert: Creating and running these events is always such an emotional rollercoaster. There’s so much anxiety and energy in the planning: Are people going to show up? Is it going to go well? Are people going to connect with it, or are they just not going to care at all? But then in the moment, you get to listen to this wonderful music by talented people, and be with a crowd of people that want to support Bluegrass Pride, and it’s euphoric. So far, I haven’t been let down by that moment of standing in a crowd and experiencing that kind of threefold-payoff of enjoying the music as an audience member, enjoying the crowd and energy as someone standing on stage, and enjoying the sheer relief of not totally fucking up as a producer.

But beyond that very selfish gratification, I also know how much these events mean to people. I know there are people who play bluegrass right now — people who are showing up at jams and forming bands and going to festivals — because Bluegrass Pride made them feel welcome and safe to be there. There are people who found Bluegrass Pride and realized that maybe they could come out after all. I know that these events — our parade float in San Francisco, our LGBTQ+ Musician Showcase in Raleigh, our beginner-friendly jams — they mean something to people. So when I get to stand in the crowd and see people’s smiles and feel people’s energy, both on- and off-stage, it makes me feel like what we’re doing matters to people. That all of the work and the hours and the stress: they add up to something bigger than just myself or my own feelings of relief and exhaustion. And that’s what keeps me going after four years of being a part of Bluegrass Pride.

What are you most looking forward to during Porch Pride? 

Kundert: I know this is a cliche to say, but I’m looking forward to all of it — I put together the lineup after all! We have so many talented artists, I’m just looking forward to hearing all of their great music and seeing how people come together to celebrate Pride with us this year.

Kiah: I am looking forward to (hopefully) finding a quiet place outside to share some stories and music! If only it could be done in person, but I’ll take what I can get! Being safe [is a] top priority.

How can we all celebrate Pride “better” this year? 

Kiah: I think one thing to keep in mind is that not everyone can safely be out of the closet, and that we should always keep those folks in our thoughts and to remember that [there is] more than one way to live out our truths in a way that we see most fit. Whenever we are waving our rainbow flags or wearing our rainbow suspenders, we’re also wearing them for the ones that can’t be with us.

Kundert: I think the key to best celebrating Pride — and to best doing most things in life — is to take a page from the author John Green and put energy into imagining people more complexly. If we imagine Pride more complexly, we see beyond the metronormative, white, cis, corporate stereotypes of Pride and begin to see new possibilities — for a Pride without all the weird classist, toxic binarism and gate-keeping. If we imagine bluegrass more complexly, we can break out of these same tired tropes that we’ve been falling into years and start telling new stories — using this art form as a way to create authentic and fresh connections with people.

We must do everything we can to see and honor people in all of their nuance. By forming connections with people, we are able to glimpse outside of our own lives. To do so enables us to generate empathy for each other, to see each other as family rather than strangers, or worse, as adversaries. To expand our circles and grow our vision of humanity will help us to better fight for justice for all, rather than justice for a few.


Photo credit: Anna Hedges
Artwork: Courtesy of Bluegrass Pride

Karen Pittelman: Bring Your Truth

A queer Jew from Brooklyn seems like the most unlikely candidate to front a country band, right? If you factor in Karen Pittelman’s past experience singing and performing punk and queercore, her current old country-influenced, honky tonk-inspired group, Karen & the Sorrows, seems even more implausible. Addressing these kind of assumptions about who “owns” country or who is allowed “admission” to country — by the mainstream country machine, country radio, country writers, or country fans at large — is why the following conversation is so important. On the surface, it would be easy, even hackneyed, to presume that Pittelman and company came to country as opportunists on the waves of the Americana tide. But considering LGBTQ+ identities and perspectives in roots music necessitates digging deeper. Doing so in our laughter-filled dialogue with Pittelman was both enlightening and encouraging.

Before Karen & the Sorrows, you were singing in a punk band. I wonder how you bridged the gap between punk and country — it sounds like it was something of a homecoming for you. Did identity play into you leaving country behind? Did you feel that in punk you would be more free to be yourself rather than in country?

Yeah, I think that that’s true. I came up around queercore, a place where making music and building queer community are all one thing. But I also think the distance between country and punk isn’t as far as people like to think. Who’s more punk than Johnny Cash? Johnny Cash is punk as fuck. I think, in terms of genres that give you a space to tap into anger and make something out of that, punk and country are two of the best. Punk isn’t so good for heartbreak and that’s what took me back to country. Really, what I love the most are sad songs. My heart was broken and, I dunno, I guess when my heart breaks, pedal steel comes out. [Laughs] Different things happen for different people’s hearts, but that’s what’s in mine, so I had to come back to country, whether I wanted to or not.

What was the beginning of country for you? Did you grow up listening to it?

I guess I’m not the average country music listener. I grew up in New York City. Being a queer Jew, I’m not whatever is supposed to be the stereotype of a country music listener. [Laughs] I think lots of people who love country music don’t fit the stereotypes. My dad, when I was growing up, ran a company called Heartland Music and he made compilation albums that were sold on TV. He was working, through my childhood, mostly with country music stars. He would be making these commercials with Conway and Loretta, and George Jones, and Don Williams, and then come back home and play me everything — and force me to listen to everything and learn it. I was kind of resistant, but it all sunk in. I guess it was just in there waiting to come out later.

I always find it interesting that a lot of people who might be opposed to LGBTQ+ rights feel that, because these identities are becoming more visible in more traditionally conservative spheres — roots music, country, bluegrass, old-time — that people with othered identities are “infiltrators.” But when I have these conversations with diverse people, their stories are exactly analogous to anybody else’s experience getting into these genres. Where do you think this disconnect is happening?

I think that’s a kind of stance that happens not just in this situation, but in a lot of different situations where people are feeling afraid of anyone who feels like an “other” to them. Not just LGBTQ, but anybody who is outside of who they define as their community. It always feels like people are infiltrating, because the “others” feel scary. Almost always, whoever is being termed the “other” has been there all along. Especially in America, we’re all mixed up with each other whether we understand it or not. Depending on where you live, maybe things are less racially or religiously diverse, but you don’t have to travel very far before that changes. And certainly you can’t get away from LGBTQ people; we’re everywhere. We’re 10 percent of the population. So, whether someone realizes it or not, we’re always there. We’re your friends and your community. Maybe that makes it even more scary — people having to redefine who they are and who they think everyone else is in relationship to themselves.

I think that’s what I grapple with the most in trying to unpack these issues with people who may stand in opposition. Because of the way the narrative has been told for so long, it’s easy to think that these ideas have only cropped up in the past 30 to 40 years. It’s hard to undo the revisionist history that everyone holds so closely, because it’s a linchpin to their worldview.

When the history of queer people in music is erased, of course nobody knows that it’s actually there. Queer people have been making all kinds of music all along, of course. If you’re not used to hearing that, I get it. You’ve been told your whole life that somebody is the enemy, that somebody is dangerous to you because of who they are — no matter how you define that “other” — you’ve got a lot to disentangle and unpack before you can see me or somebody else as a fellow musician, your neighbor, your friend, or your family.

I noticed, when I first started reading about your band and your album, that you’re clearly labeled and tagged “queer country.” In the course of these interviews and conversations, I’ve found a whole continuum of visibility and display of artists’ identities in what they create. I wondered how you got to the point where you wanted it to be overtly queer?

To me, first and foremost, it’s about the music. First, second, and third it’s about the music — and I just want people to hear the music. As a woman, though, I already don’t get to have that luxury (of being less visible). It’s already going to be, “Ah, women in music.” [Laughs] It happened because I was just craving the space for queer country to exist and I so missed having that space in queercore and queer punk shows. Not that queer space is the only space that I can feel comfortable in or the only space I want to play, but it really feels like home to me. I felt like I needed to make that space for myself and then other people, too, especially when other people were saying, “Yes! We need this, too.” That inspired me and made me feel like I had to keep going. That’s how we started calling it queer country.

Obviously, like we were just talking about, queer people have been making country all along — we’re going to play our record release show with Lavender Country and Patrick Haggerty made his out, proud, queer country album in 1973! I needed this community and, in order to make community, you have to be willing to announce it. “Okay, this is going to be queer country and that’s who we are and anyone else who feels the same way, come play this show with us!” [Laughs]

I can totally relate to that. I grew up in bluegrass — traditional, straight-ahead bluegrass. I didn’t realize that I craved a space to be queer within bluegrass until I tripped into such a space. You feel this burden lifted that you didn’t realize you were carrying around, just from feeling like the odd person out. It feels so good!

Especially in the way that roots music wants to claim a sort of “home” — a space where everyone can feel welcome, where it isn’t about putting on some kind of airs. This is music that’s about telling the truth about your life, about telling the truth of who you are and where you come from, so it’s important that we’re creating a space together where our lives feel known. I think it’s hard to realize, when you grow up with a certain kind of music, that you’re not being included in it. You know, but you don’t know in your bones, until you’re in a space where you are included. Then you realize how lonesome it felt all along.

That really resonates with me. It feels like the LGBTQ+ community in roots music is starting to network and weave together this strong fabric with each other. I love that.

I feel like we’re making it together right now! It’s amazing!

I want to ask you about “Take Me for a Ride” off of your new record, The Narrow Place. I love that it’s basically bro country, but queer. While listening to it, though, I could imagine someone hearing the lyric “I wanna kiss that pretty mouth and keep on kissing south” sung by a woman to a woman and being appalled by how “inappropriate” it is. Meanwhile, Sam Hunt’s “Body Like a Back Road” has been at number one for a record-breaking 25 weeks!

[Laughs] Yeah, “Body Like a Back Road” is way dirtier! It’s funny: I wasn’t sure, when I was working on that song, how dirty it would end up being, but I knew what I was going for. I think it ended up pretty sweet, as far as saying dirty things go! [Laughs] But “Body Like a Back Road” is filthy! And so catchy.

So how do we bridge this logical gap for people? We talked about this a little bit before — queer people have always been in country; queer people come to country music the same ways as everybody else. How do we show people that don’t want us to “flaunt it in their faces,” that it’s really not any different than Sam Hunt singing about “driving with his eyes closed”?

[Laughs] Hmm. I had this really interesting experience with someone writing a comment on one of our videos on YouTube. They wrote this really nice comment about how much they love the song and the band, but then they basically said exactly what you just said: “I don’t understand why you have to be putting all of these identity politics and labels on things.” I wrestled with it for a while, but then I wrote back saying, “Thank you so much. You know, I wouldn’t describe it as ‘putting labels.’ I would just say that all of my favorite country music and musicians just try to bring the truth of their lives to the music.” The person wrote me back saying, “Oh, I get that. Thank you for taking the time.”

Now, obviously, it doesn’t always go like that! [Laughs] That was like the world’s best case scenario of that conversation. He felt heard, I felt heard, everything went great. I mean, why do you want to hear Tim McGraw and Faith Hill sing “It’s Your Love”? It’s because they love each other! For real and in real ways. It’s beautiful, and you feel the truth of it. Yes, there’s an entirely different question here of how authenticity gets constructed. It’s complicated. That said, I do believe in bringing your truth to the music. If we all agree that that’s something we love about country music, then we’re going to need to find a way to let everybody who makes the music bring their truth.


Photo Credit: Carole Litwin — (from left to right) Tami Johnson, Karen Pittelman, and Elana Redfield