Some may say that “brat summer” is over, but the hypnotic effect it had on our collective consciousness has only begun to usher in a new, yet familiar era of popular culture. For the first time, Gen Z is experiencing the magic of “recession pop:” the dancey, upbeat, electronic and over-the-top music that comes as a reaction to economic limitations brought about by a recession. But the social awareness of Gen Z is giving this cultural phenomenon a new, more immediately inclusive angle, as opposed to the recession pop of the late 2000s. Older recession pop tended to be adopted by queer communities in hindsight, and at a much lower profile. However this time, an immediate link has been drawn between recession pop and the queer spaces that embrace it. So, what exactly are “queer pop” and “recession pop,” and why should we care?
There is an entire cultural language behind queer pop music that cannot be reduced to queer people simply singing about being queer. It’s for that reason that earlier this year, Jojo Siwa came under fire, and rightfully so, for her comments about “creating” the genre of gay pop, and doing “what had never been done before.” There are queer artists who pioneered the aesthetics of the genre and were queer themselves, like David Bowie, Elton John, and Freddie Mercury, among others. But what makes this genre of pop music queer is also its sonic trademarks, influence, association, and on many occasions, the direct recognition and appreciation of queer audiences.
Since the late 20th century, a litany of gay icons like Madonna, Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, and Beyonce have enjoyed popularity while also being embraced by queer communities. Their discographies have become defined by queer pop staples, such as unapologetic accounts of love, sex, and their own bodies – all while accompanied by sexy, glittery, high-fashion stage outfits and danceable electropop. These gay pop icons, or “mothers,” are perfect examples of what actual allyship and advocacy look like: using one’s platform to promote queer artists and imagery regardless of consequences to publicity, and regardless of whether or not something is palatable for the industry. It’s the difference between artists now merely saying they support queer rights versus what that support would’ve signified based on social context in the past. For instance in the 1980s, Madonna spoke openly in support of queer people at the height of the AIDS crisis, doing so even before America’s conservative president Ronald Reagan.
Now, Charli xcx, with her torn-up T-shirts, visible bras, mini-skirts, and club-style production, has entered this elite universe of pop girls. But what makes charli xcx especially iconic among queer audiences is her lexicon of references and associations. Her association and frequent collaboration with the late, great trans producer SOPHIE is widely known, with Charli xcx paying tribute to her multiple times on BRAT in honour of her influence and passing. She has also collaborated with Troye Sivan, an openly queer artist, many times, including on her most recent remix of BRAT’s “Talk Talk.” They are also currently co-headlining the SWEAT tour in North America. Charli xcx’s influences also reside in underground culture and counterculture, a sort of numinous space pioneered by and for queer people.
Chappell Roan is another current queer pop heavyweight, whose image exists at the intersection of queer aesthetics and text. She sings about being a lesbian from the perspective of authentic experience, which is especially resonant considering her comparatively conservative Midwestern upbringing. All the while, she pays homage to pillars of queer culture like John Waters. She’s even dressed as the legendary 1980s drag queen Divine, who starred in most of his movies. Because of her upbringing secluded from queer spaces in the Midwest, Chappell also makes a conscious effort to bring her music and performances to parts of the US that aren’t as inviting to queer performers. For instance, she performed in her Divine outfit at Kentuckiana pride in Louisville, Kentucky this past June.
What Charli and Chappell offer is ultimately a hedonistic rebuttal of the self- pitying and watered-down pop music that has been dominating the charts, which queer pop music has always been about. Freedom of identity becomes linked to musical freedom, with the sound of queer pop music intending for the listener to move their body and enjoy themselves, unconcerned with being taken seriously or rejected by the public. The terms “gay icon” and “gay pop” have far more to do with hedonistic, countercultural aesthetics, which sometimes intersect with actual queer text, more than many people realize. Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face,” for example, is a dance club classic rife with excess, leather, and glitter that is actually about her fantasizing about women while having sex with men.
Gaga’s 2009 track, and its accompanying album The Fame Monster, are an example of where queer pop intersects with recession pop. According to Dazed magazine, “Recession pop” first rose to prominence in the years surrounding the 2008 financial crisis, and refers to the fast, frenetic melodies and hooky lyricism that defines the music of recession periods, “colouring economic hardship with relentless optimism.” But the sound reflects more than an affective response to the economy; Diane Negra, professor of culture studies and co-editor of Gendering the Recession, calls it “a fulcrum moment after which many people rewrote the terms of their engagement with capitalism,”making it a cultural reconfiguration of capitalist hegemony as a whole.
The intersection of queer pop and recession pop is defined by excess, indulgence, club culture, and alternative aesthetics. It’s the idea of idolizing cheap luxury and abundance as a way of aesthetically rebuking economic and identity boundaries, and rejecting expectations outlined by hetero-capitalist society.
The period around the 2008 financial crisis saw a kind of unprecedented countercultural movement with albums like The Fame Monster and Blackout, which are now regarded as classics among queer audiences. They are examples of the connection between marginalized communities victim to both classicism and homophobia, and the way that LGBTQ+ people are denied full participation in the economy. The ostracization of queer people and the middle class from popular culture during recessions causes pop music to cater itself to alternative spaces, relocating the nucleus of pop music into underground clubs and raves as opposed to stadium tours and awards shows.
As opposed to the retrospective lens through which recession pop and its connection to queer culture from the late 2000s is viewed, young people today, more aware of their socio- economic milieu than ever, are actually able to detect the “silent recession” we are in through the indications provided by pop music. The world does not need to openly be in crisis for recession to be considered so, as we continue to globally suffer from post-pandemic economic decline in what is being called a “silent depression.”
The newness and self-awareness of this particular iteration of recession pop is what attracts it to queer audiences: its nostalgia factor is authentic, and it doesn’t shy away from the contemporary moment. It isn’t a recycled formula which tries far too hard to connect to marginalized audiences through unconventional aesthetics. BRAT, for instance, didn’t come to be because it was sensing or jumping on a trend, economic or cultural; Charli’s style has been popular among alternative audiences for some time, and only during the current recession period has gained mainstream popularity. Just listen to 2020’s how i’m feeling now, with the hard-hitting hyperpop intro of “pink diamond,” which embodies the same ideals as BRAT but was recorded at the very beginning of the pandemic, before we could even process its affective and economic impact.
What this self-aware, queer-oriented era of recession pop tells us is that culture has finally caught up to visionaries like charli xcx and Chappell Roan. Artists like Tove Lo, Kim Petras, and Ayesha Erotica are all LGBTQ women who have been releasing BRAT-like electropop music since the mid-2010s. All of them take influence from 2000s icons like Britney and Gaga and have long been overlooked commercially, but have always been embraced by queer audiences. However, it just may be that the state the global economy has put us in has finally necessitated this kind of energy that has been embraced by queer people on the margins of society since the beginning of the 21st century.