We all have those bands. You know, those bands. You read about them on some blog, download their track and immediately fall in love with it. From there, you scour the internet with an insatiable appetite, devouring every song in your path like some aurally-fueled Pac-Man. Devouring it right into your iTunes library.
Fast-forward to a few years later, and you suddenly realize something about this band. Despite the fact that you’ve cherished their music for so long, you don’t own a single full-length album by them. Just a bunch of scattered singles and album tracks.
Coincidentally, this band happens to be releasing a new album. An album called Music Sounds Better With You. This band is Acid House Kings. And they’re just as awesome as the first day you heard them.
Someone needs to say it—the gay anthem is officially dead. Lady Gaga‘s “Born This Way” didn’t just obliterate “I Will Survive”, it single-handedly murdered the concept of what a gay anthem should be. Instead of empowering you, this song smashes you in the face with positive affirmation. Bang! Do you love yourself yet? Blam! Just dance, it’ll be okay. Kapow! Did we mention Lady Gaga really likes gay people? Look, she even wrote a song about them!
But whatever. This crap has already been discussed up the wazoo (and much more elegantly) on other spaces of the internet. Honestly, screw the gays who have claimed this song as their own. The most revolutionary concept of this song is its recognition of the bisexual and transgender communities, two groups who are consistently looked beyond within the LGBT acronym. But, um, can we address the latter of the two for a moment? If some transgender folks express that they were born in the wrong body, doesn’t that prove God does occasionally make mistakes?*
“Whoa, dude! Relax, it’s just a pop song! It’s not that deep.” This has been a common response to any negative response to “Born This Way”, a sentiment spouted out religiously by Gaga’s band of little monsters. Yet it doesn’t hold up. All the hype leading up to this release implied more than “just a pop song”. This was made out to be an event, a defining moment in pop culture we’d never forget.
Again, whatever. Feel free to call this your anthem. Put it on a playlist with Katy Perry‘s “Firework” and Ke$ha‘s “We R Who We R”. Meanwhile, one could hope that we start looking elsewhere for our inspiration. Think about the gay anthems of the past. The majority of them have nothing to do with dudes who sleep with other dudes, and only a few exceptions actually mention the word “gay”.
Why can’t a song like Clare Maguire‘s “The Last Dance” be lumped into this category? It takes inspiration from less obvious gay icons (aka *not* Madonna), drawing parallels to Annie Lennox, Kate Bush and so forth. And there’s even a little Cher thrown in for good measure.
On top of that, Maguire channels the same ethereal vixen-like quality as Florence Welch, a vocalist who virtually no card-carrying homosexual can resist falling for. Both women have very distinct, powerful voices, and this characteristic alone has been known to define an anthem. Just look at Liza Minnelli or Jennifer Holliday. Neither of their “anthems” blatantly pertain to the community, yet their show-stopping performances gained them eternal placement on the totem pole of man-on-man lovin’.
Except that leads to a whole other issue… “The Last Dance” was written about Maguire’s childhood hero Michael Jackson, a cultural entity who’s widely known for his alleged man-on-boy lovin’. Without a doubt, he’s a controversial figure amongst the gays. Some respect and cherish his contributions to pop music’s evolution. Others think he’s a “total freak”.
For the last time, what the fuck ever. The lyrics are packed with enough ambiguity to excel beyond this context. It’s a song about love and loss, marked by universal, entirely human emotions. You can’t listen to this without feeling anything. And, frankly, that’s something we should see in every gay anthem. The ultimate goal isn’t to pat us on the back and make us feel fabulous. It’s to make you feel alive, to move you. Out of all honesty, which of these two songs is more moving?
* Admittedly, this sentence makes me uneasy, as it almost seems to imply transgender individuals are a “mistake”. That was not my intention.
“Michelle Obama” should have been a huge deal. The track emerged over a year ago, accompanied by a ridiculously awesome stop-motion music video. There were raccoons! Tin foil garden tools! And a cardboard version of our first lady. In a world where “Combination Pizza Hut & Taco Bell” can go viral, this should have ruled the internet’s butthole.
Alas, that’s not what we’re here to discuss. The song’s creator DaQuan Motley, who you may know from Philly’s queer hip-hop squad Sgt. Sass, will be releasing a solo album entitled The NauQad Project. The first single “The Party Starter (Pt. II)” was recently released for your aural consumption, and it would behoove you to put it on your iPod or other random-ass device. You can even put it on your head and wear it as a funny hat. As long as it’s going in your ears, that’s all that matters.
If you’re expecting a club-banger in the style of Sgt. Sass, then you’ve come to the wrong place. The verses on “Party Starter” are delivered with a dash of old school flavor. Think Run DMC or early Beastie Boys, except there’s chanting and beautiful electronic instrumentation. It’s like getting attacked by a liger with Lindsay Lohan‘s face. But in a good way.