When I started listening to Tracy Chapman around 1999, I was eleven years old and I brought “Fast Car” on a cassette into my school’s music class. Nobody except the teacher seemed to like the song (she sang along with it), but what I related to at the time was that chorus: I heard what I’ve called a queer (be)longing in the music. When Chapman sang in her rich contralto voice, “I had a feelin’ that I belonged,” I felt it deep in my soul. I was struggling socially as autistic – and, I soon realized, attracted to guys.
Luke Combs’s 2023 smash hit version of “Fast Car” solidified Chapman’s status as a queer country icon, even if the song wasn’t considered a country song for decades. Seeing the two artists sing together at the Grammys actually did warm my heart, though I’m aware that Chapman has faced barriers in the music industry as a Black queer woman that Combs never will. However, it gave me hope for queer artists flourishing – on our terms as queer people.
As an autistic person, I don’t go to many concerts, especially because of sensory issues and social anxiety. But when I hear a great story song in country music or Americana, no matter how little or how much I relate to the lyrics, I feel something that speaks to me directly and deeply.
Queer artists like Chris Housman, Adeem the Artist, Cameron Hawthorn, Ty Herndon, Roseanna Jones, Amythyst Kiah, Andrew Sa, Chely Wright, Brian Falduto, T.J. Osborne (of Brothers Osborne), and songwriter Shane McAnally matter to me because, in a strange way, I can see myself in each of them and their music, under the queer umbrella. Of course, my experience can differ from theirs based on region, class, gender, race, and other crucial variables.
To me, queer country has a lot to do with longing. I’m okay with never having fallen in love with someone who loved me back, much like the “gay kid in a small town who loves country radio” in the Indigo Girls’ “Country Radio.” But longing has played a huge role in my life, in everything from dating and work to journeys of healing. I even created a gigantic Spotify playlist of songs about longing in 2014. I’ve worked hard for success to manifest in my life as a writer and public communicator, but love is a mystery.
Yet, when I hear a song like Chris Housman’s recent CMT breakout hit, “Guilty as Sin,” I hear a part of my story, even if the details are different. I suspect every awakening queer person struggles with guilt in heterosexist societies that shame us for who we are.
So, of course, there’s a range of expressions of longing in queer country that can’t be reduced to one characteristic of sound or anything else. But the genre I most associate with longing and great storytelling is country, and queer country makes that even more apparent.
I hear myself in the stories of so many great artists, past and present, these days. Queer country provides me with a sense of belonging in music that, in its dominant culture, appears to not want queer folks. I don’t care if you call it “woke” – queer country matters because country music can and does provide a voice for queer experiences.
As Tracy Chapman sang in a hidden track from her 1995 album, New Beginning: “Save a Place for Me.” I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m not going anywhere in my love of this music.
Photo Credit: Tracy Chapman by Brad Rickerby
Good morning Josh or whatever time it may be when you read this. I hope all is well with you today as you choose to celebrate Pride in whatever way(s) that you do.
Your essay raises many important questions about longing. It has been said that desire is the root of all evil, but is that really true? In some cases maybe, particularly if it borders on obsessions, narcissistic/sociopathic behavior and/or reveals a lack of patience, but I think it is human nature to want/need different things including stability, security, peace of mind, kindness, compassion, respect, fun, joy, laughter, and excitement.
In terms of relationships, longing manifests as a never ending search for connection, love, lust and community. While communities can be created around both people's demographics and shared interest, customs, traditions, values and beliefs, often times personality traits and dysfunctional behavior can undermine the elusive search to experience connection at least on a permanent basis. And without connection, love is fleeting at best and non-existent under the worst of circumstances. And so some/many people settle for lust. No doubt, it is difficult to reconcile the two within the same relationship, as they both fade away over time.
And then we have other types of longing including the ones which are the most pervasive in our society, the desire for money, power, control, influence, status, marketable skills and specialized knowledge, which many people have complex relationships with in and of themselves, and which reflect a certain amount of hubris and egotistical behavior.
Unfortunately, most of us to varying degrees neglect the one thing which is essential for us to both survive and thrive -- the pursuit of health and well-being. Imagine how different our society would operate if this was people's top priority instead of getting rich and embracing all the different types of addictions that come with that.