The New York Times’ Sunday Review section decided to ratchet things up a bit in its Opposite the Editorials section with a pretty saucy op-ed written by two unassuming researchers. Their study of college student’s implicit sexual orientation made waves online as they shared some empirical evidence. Part of the study observed a person’s comfort level with homosexuality, and it seems that one-fifth of those self-identified as very heterosexual—and homophobic—also identified with homosexuals on a subconscious level. Or to paraphrase, a percentage of homophobes in the study are totes closet cases.
We gays have icons that sometimes become huge stars, the Gagas and the Madonnas. But we also have more obscure icons, those that the general public could never embrace the way we did. Loleatta Holloway was one of those icons.
Her voice was big. Really big. And she too was no small lady. Her “Crash Goes Love” still makes my skin crawl and her “Love Sensation” is just so, so, so good. It is a record that defines that late 70s/early 80s disco meets house sound. It holds up to this day.
Watch this film if you love New York or music. It’s eye-opening.
Many music genres emerged from NYC in the late 1970s: dance, hip-hop, punk. This wonderful film dissects the politics of 1977 and the emergence of those music genres, which, to this day, shape and inspire most popular music. Also thrown in is a history of being a minority, race and sexuality, in Manhattan during the time.
At last week’s several sold out Robyn/Kelis shows here in NYC, admittedly, I was more excited about the Swedish pop princess than I was about Nas’ baby mama. However, when Kelis took to the stage in glitter disco wig and purple latex body suit I knew I’d be pleasantly surprised.
Billie Ray Martin should be a household name. Her voice is epic. It recalls Aretha and soul singers of another era. Ms. Martin is German. And white. And loves the Pet Shop Boys and electronic music. And disco. She’s always been a bit before her time. And those are the reasons why she’s not a bigger star. She may be too talented.
Before he found a home in disco, Andy Butler DJ’d at a leather bar in Denver called Chocolate Thunder Pussy. He was 15 years old. Now he’s the ringleader of a rotating collective of singers, dancers and DJ’s called Hercules and Love Affair. The name came from a childhood interest in Greek mythology. “I just loved the notion that this myriad group of gods and goddesses could come down at any moment and interrupt your life or point you in a certain direction, or give you some kind of tool to use in order to help you achieve something.” And for a group that crosses every gender and orientation, Hercules, a powerful and outspoken bisexual, is a fitting hero.