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Pride

Page: 42

You never get a second chance to make a first impression, and Kim Petras certainly had a memorable first meeting with her pop idol Madonna.
In the latest episode of Alex Cooper’s Call Her Daddy podcast posted on Wednesday (June 28), Petras revealed that she first met Madonna while in a bit of an altered state at an afterparty for Saturday Night Live. “She came to the SNL afterparty, and I was so obliterated,” she told Cooper, laughing at herself. “I just kept talking her ear off about Confessions on the Dancefloor, and I was like, ‘That’s one of the best albums ever. It’s a timeless classic, people don’t appreciate it enough!’”

Eventually, as Petras recalls, Madge suggested that the pair pose for a photo together. “She said, ‘Let’s take a picture,’ and I said, ‘Thank you so much for saying that,’” she said, giggling. “Because I would have just talked her f–king ears off for hours … she must think I’m insane.”

There’s good reason why the “Alone” singer felt compelled to gush about Madonna to her face. Earlier in her conversation with Cooper, Petras said that Madonna was always her favorite pop star because of the way she used her platform.

“Madonna is someone who broke a lot of these gender stereotypes, and who can be very masculine in some of her music, and talk about sex very freely and in a very different way,” she said. “[She] was so ahead of her time in liberating people from feeling this shame about their sexuality … I will forever feel inspired and liberated by her just taking the hit for so many people.”

It felt especially important to Petras when Madonna introduced the “Brrr” singer’s performance with Sam Smith at the 2023 Grammy Awards, where the pop icon told the audience at home that the pair were “two incredibly talented artists who have risen above the noise, the doubt, the critics, and all the bulls–t.”

According to Petras, that speech may not have happened had Madonna not specifically asked to introduce them. “She was supposed to [announce] record of the year or something, but she said she wanted to introduce the first trans performer at the Grammys,” Petras revealed. “I was like, ‘You really are the coolest to ever exist.’”

Check out the full episode of Call Her Daddy featuring Kim Petras below:

Back in April, Corook was having a rough day. The singer-songwriter had been hard at work promoting their single “CGI” on TikTok. While it was working — the song was steadily picking up steam heading into its release — the singer noticed that they were getting a lot of hateful comments.
“I already felt like I was in such a vulnerable place in my life,” they tell Billboard over Zoom, sporting their signature frog-shaped bucket hat that smiles into the camera even when they don’t. “I was trying my absolute best to allow my true self to shine through — for that to be timed with all of these hate comments really just like made me feel like, ‘Damn, I don’t have a place in this industry.’”

Yet in the two and a half months since that bad day, Corook’s life couldn’t be more different. Their EP Serious Person (Part 1) was met with acclaim, they’ve plotted out a headlining tour set to take place this fall, and their voice has become practically inescapable in the queerest corners of the internet.

Much of that attention is thanks to “If I Were a Fish” — the acoustic feel-good anthem about loving the parts of yourself that the world doesn’t seem to understand. It’s a song that wasn’t necessarily supposed to exist, until Corook’s girlfriend Olivia Barton asked her to channel her feelings on that fateful bad day into something productive.

“She said, ‘I’m gonna do what you do for me most of the time, and help you make something cool out of this. Let’s go upstairs, play whatever instruments and just make a really weird song,’” Corook recalls. “The weirdest idea that I had at the time was this thought of, ‘Well, if I were a fish, all of the weird things about me would just be super cool.’ And she said, ‘That’s really weird. We should definitely do that.’”

Making “a really weird song” might sound like an odd solution to a problem, but it’s central to what makes Corook stand out. Born Corinne Savage, the singer-songwriter took an early interest in working in the music industry, thanks in part to Linkin Park. “I feel like the very first musical memory I have is seeing this documentary on the band,” they explain with a laugh. “I sat crisscross applesauce in front of the TV and had a notepad and pen in hand, writing down things they were doing. I was coming up with ideas of which of my friends could be in my band.”

Learning how to play bass and guitar when they were still in middle school, Corook quickly showed an aptitude for music — after graduating from high school, Savage attended the Berklee College of Music in Boston, eventually graduating with two degrees in songwriting and contemporary writing and production. In the time since their graduation six years ago, Corook has put their diplomas to good use (including a single titled “Degree,” which mostly bemoans what they didn’t learn in school and the “fifty grand in debt” they accrued as a result).

Wanting to kickstart their artist project, Corook hired a manager and started writing, recording and producing original songs about practically anything — their fear of snakes, their love of tequila, the unexplained questions of the universe and so on. In talking about anything, Corook found that they could talk about everything through their unique blend of self-deprecating humor mixed with top-tier songwriting.

“It felt like I understood the puzzle pieces and the mathematics behind making a good song, but I didn’t know how to tell my truth,” they say of their early work. “My truth is very sarcastic. My truth is trying to make the room feel good about talking about some awful thing. It’s been such a healing way for me to process my life.”

Creating a private SoundCloud filled with songs that they felt good about releasing, Corook and their manager began sending the work out to “a couple of people” within the industry. Suddenly, the singer-songwriter gained “700 followers out of nowhere” on Instagram, and received DMs from A&R reps at major labels interested in meeting up with them. “I guess my SoundCloud kind of went viral behind the scenes of the music industry,” they explain.

By 2021, Corook had signed a deal with Atlantic Records and rolled out their debut EP Achoo! the following year, finally “getting to be an artist for the first time in my life,” as they put it. Gaining a steady following on TikTok, they also came into their own as a person, changing their pronouns publicly to “they/them” as they began to figure out their gender identity in real time.

With a greater understanding of themselves came a wave of negative comments, which led them to writing their “really weird song” with Barton. “If I Were a Fish” thrives in its simplicity — all of the things that make Corook feel different in a world that craves uniformity only serve to make them that much more special.

It also made them deeply relatable to a legion of listeners online. The song has already been used in nearly 40,000 TikToks and streamed 10 million times on Spotify, with the vast majority of listeners relating deeply to the overtly queer themes of the song, repeating Corook’s refrain asking “Why is everybody on the internet so mean?” The song even earned Corook and Barton their first set of Billboard chart appearances.

The immediate viral success was a mostly welcome surprise for the rising star, though it came with its own set of caveats. “It’s really layered — as much as I love being a musician and a performer, attention still makes me like super uncomfortable,” they say. “It was a little bit weird for me to feel like there were so many eyes on me. I feel like everybody that has a moment on TikTok feels the pressure of ‘What now?’”

But seeing the track earn “wholesome” virality with its impact specifically on queer people quickly helped alleviate that stress. “I couldn’t ignore the insanely beautiful, sensitive, misfit community that this song just naturally created within the algorithm,” they say. “My comments section was full of people telling their stories and supporting each other. The whole reason I like doing this is because it connects people in a really cool way.”

The success of “If I Were a Fish” allowed Corook to look more ambitiously at their career — they released the first part of their project Serious Person early in order to capitalize on the sudden success of the single, while finishing up part two, preparing for a headlining tour, and dreaming up bigger goals for their future.

But “If I Were a Fish” also gave Corook space to step back and figure out what they really want out of a music career. “This song happening showed me it’s so much less about numbers — this community is what feels really important,” they say, their face now matching the chipper frog perched atop their head. “I want to grow that community as much as I possibly can — sensitive, queer people that are healing. I personally need that in my life, and I feel like everybody that is kind of joining in is realizing they need it too.”

The only thing “Upside Down” in Stranger Things star Noah Schnapp‘s latest Instagram post is his frown. On Sunday (June 25), Schnapp shared a series of pics on social media from New York City’s Pride festivities, where the actor could be seen joining in the fun. Writing simply in his caption “First pride❤️,” Schnapp pointed […]

The Boulet Brothers’ Dragula season three winner Landon Cider talks to Billboard about finding drag, being inspired by David Bowie and Stephen Sondheim, and more! Landon Cider:Because I’m an overachiever, the first song that I performed was a full on mix, where I came out as my feminine persona and transformed into drag on stage […]

Studying his face in a mirror, Micah Winters is in the middle of a transformation into his other self — an elegant drag queen named Goldie Dee Collins. “I’m applying some foundation to my face, and things seem to be going according to plan so far,” Winters dryly cracks to Billboard over the phone, focused on making sure his beat looks right.
Winters is preparing for his appearance at the Stonewall Inn’s Pride Kick-off Celebration later that day, where he will appear in his capacity as a board member at Friends of George’s, the Memphis-based theater company that came to national attention for successfully suing the state of Tennessee over their “drag ban.”

With such a groundbreaking lawsuit came plenty of attention for Winters and his compatriots at Friends of George’s, a fact he isn’t entirely thrilled about. “We’re not a group that wants to be in the political fray — we’re a comedic, drag-centric theater troupe,” he says. “We would have preferred never to get involved in something like this. But it was an obstacle that we couldn’t get past if we wanted to keep doing what we love to do.”

Protecting the space that Friends of George’s built over the last decade was of the utmost importance for Winters and his fellow board members. With the number of LGBTQ+ bars and event spaces around the country rapidly dwindling over the last two decades, it’s become harder than ever for members of the queer community to find spaces that feel safe from the outside world — especially when that world is openly hostile toward them.

But it’s not stopping purveyors of queer joy from helping the community have a good time. Trey Stewart, the owner of Mr. Misster in Dallas, knows firsthand what it takes to create intentional space for the LGBTQ+ community. Opening the bar in 2019 on Dallas’ famous Cedar Springs strip, Stewart says the aim was to create “your introductory gay bar — a gay bar that you can bring your mom to.”

Then, COVID-19 hit, and six months into its run, Mr. Misster was forced to shut down. Finding himself forced into a corner, Stewart began looking for ways to get the bar safely operating again. The answer? Drag queens.

“We could sell tickets to a drag show and open up for it — that was when we started our Saturday drag brunch,” he says. “A lot of the city started taking in drag queens on a on a regular basis, because they were able to pay these performers and give them some sort of livelihood as well as keep their doors open.”

Post-pandemic, as Mr. Misster’s drag shows grew in popularity, Stewart and his team decided to throw an event last June called “Drag the Kids to Pride” — a family-friendly drag show intended on celebrating the queer community in a safe environment. Yet what it ultimately sparked was outrage — protestors appeared outside of the event, while photos and videos quickly went viral, leading right-wing lawmakers to use them as pseudo-evidence of prurient drag shows taking place in front of children. Suddenly, Stewart’s safe space was a battleground.

It’s understandable why Stewart observes that in 2023, his bar and a number of others on the Cedar Springs strip are playing it safe. “It’s a little more low-key… just because there is so much crazy going on the world. The last thing we want to do is put ourselves in harm’s way,” he says, recalling the intense response in 2022. “We don’t want to see what we saw last year, where we had automatic rifles outside of our front door.”

For Kae Burke, the co-founder of Brooklyn’s iconic nightlife/circus collective House of Yes, welcoming in members of disparate communities was largely the point. While the organization may not advertise itself as explicitly queer, Burke found that sticking to their core principles of “collaboration, creativity and community” made the space inherently more inclusive.

“By really holding space for community to create together and celebrate in a place that feels good, that just inherently made it more welcoming to our queer community,” she says. “Just being welcoming is somehow a radical act.”

On any given night at House of Yes, partygoers can see anything from a DJ set, to burlesque performances, to an aerialist circus act. Costumes and themed outfits are heavily encouraged, and attendees are asked to “turn off your phone, turn on your heart,” according to their website.

In the 15 years since House of Yes was first founded, Burke and co-founder Anya Sapozhnikova have amade it their expressed mission to not only make nightlife more fun, but also more secure. Whether that was accomplished through a well-expressed consent policy, or even the introduction of dance floor monitors called “consenticorns,” House of Yes proves that fun can be had with boundaries intact.

Burke makes it clear that, even with a well-established track record of keeping the vibe positive, pure protection from unwanted attention and prejudice is impossible. “There’s really no such thing as a safe space,” she explains. “I’ve reframed it as ‘healthy hedonism.’ It’s about having this container for celebration that does the least amount of harm possible, whether it’s to yourself or to other people. It’s about asking, ‘How are you holding yourself accountable and bringing your best onto the dance floor?’”

Creating that atmosphere is central to Winters’ approach to creating live shows at Friends of George’s. “I think it is a kindness to tell people what the boundaries are,” he explains. “You explain to them where the boundary begins, and where it definitely stops.”

At Friends of George’s, those boundaries are well established. As a board member and performer, Winters helps write and perform in shows that are “a healthy portion of Saturday Night Live, The Mary Tyler Moore Show and RuPaul’s Drag Race.” Establishing themselves as a community-focused theater troupe since their founding in 2010, Friends of George’s aims to create entertaining performances in a space outside of the nightlife scene. “We’ve made something accessible out of something that used to be a little inaccessible,” he explains.

Another key factor in making more inclusive environments, as Stewart points out, is having staff that understand the mission. “I’m not going to hire a–holes,” Stewart says. “When you start that at the door, we want to have kind people that are checking your ID. We want to have kind bartenders that remember your face, know your name and know your drink.”

Burke agrees, adding that if you want members of the queer community to feel safe, then having a staff that reflects those identities is vital. “If you’re having an event, and you want queer people to feel welcome, hire queer people to work that event,” she says. “Put people in positions of power where they can affect change.”

It boils down to a simple concept that Stewart reminds himself on a regular basis: “You won’t remember what someone said to you, but you’ll always remember the way they made you feel,” he says. “And people want to feel good.”

In protest of the recent influx in anti-LGBTQ bills passed in Tennessee, Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker dressed in flamboyant drag queen-inspired looks at their Boygenius concert in Nashville Sunday (June 25) — where they also led the crowd in a “F–k Bill Lee” chant aimed at the state’s polarizing governor.
As the indie rock supergroup kicked off the show — which happened to be held during the city’s Pride Month celebrations — ecstatic screams could be heard throughout the Great Lawn in Centennial Park upon the crowd’s realization that “The Boys” had drastically departed from their usual suit and tie stage uniforms. With each of them wearing colorful, over-the-top makeup, Bridgers took the stage in a spider-webbed leotard and teased-to-the-heavens hair, Dacus in a bejeweled Gogo dress with a red leather harness and Baker in a purple Elvis-esque suit.

Even the band’s crew looked dashing in gender-bending clothing, with both a cameraman and a male stagehand sporting sundresses.

Later, Baker — whose home state is Tennessee — paused the show to take aim at Gov. Lee, who earlier this year signed controversial laws banning minors from receiving gender-affirming care and preventing drag queens from performing in certain public spaces. “Today I’m so grateful for my life, not because I get to stand onstage with my best friends … but because I’m content with the person that I am,” she said. “I have a lot of anger for the people that have made me feel small, and feel erased.”

“And I’ve found it’s a really powerful and humiliating tool to make those people f–k off,” the musician continued. “I would like you to scream so loud that Gov. Lee can hear you.”

“Can we say ‘F–k Bill Lee’ on three?” Bridgers then proposed, before leading a countdown that ended with thousands of voices screaming “F–k Bill Lee!”

Boygenius was formed in 2018 by the three soloists, each of whom identifies as queer. Days before releasing their debut album as a group, The Record, in March, Bridgers, Dacus and Baker spoke out against Tennessee’s discriminatory legislation in an interview with Them.

“The government being actually actively trying to kill the coolest people is something I think about every day,” Bridgers told the publication at the time. “It’s so overwhelming how different the world would be if the AIDS epidemic had never happened. It’s so overwhelming to me, to my exact world, everything that I value. And –”

“All the lost potential,” Dacus added.

“If all of the David Wojnarowiczes and Leslie Feinbergs of the world did all of that suffering for me not to live in a world where I can be so f–king gay on a big stage and have a whole bunch of other gay people here for me and it’d be joy, then it was in vain,” Baker agreed in the interview. “The joy is the living amends that you do for your community as a performer.”

See photos and videos of Boygenius in drag below:

Overlooking the Upper New York bay on a humid evening Sunday (June 25), throngs of sweating concert-goers decked out in a sea of rainbow colors cheered one name: “CHRIS-TI-NA! CHRIS-TI-NA!”
They didn’t have to cheer long before pop superstar Christina Aguilera appeared on the stage at Brooklyn Army Terminal for her headlining set at NYC Pride Island 2023. Striking a formidable pose center stage — dressed in a rainbow rhinestoned jumpsuit and bedazzled wrap around shades with her hair styled in three massive pigtails — Xtina welcomed her adoring crowd. “What the f–k is up, New York Pride?!” she bellowed into her microphone.

What ensued for her cheering fans was a non-stop tour-de-force of the pop phenomenon’s greatest hits. Kicking things off with high-energy renditions of fan-favorites like “Your Body,” “Dirrty” and “Cant Hold Us Down,” the star pranced around the stage with her backup dancers, making sure to stop and give fans a tasty vocal riff every now and then.

Of course, the star made sure to throw it back to some of her oldest hits for her day one fans in the crowd, delivering renditions of “Genie in a Bottle” and “What A Girl Wants” early in her set. “It has been such a long and beautiful journey in my career, and I feel like I’ve come full circle today at this point,” she told the crowd, beaming. “Thank you guys so much for giving me everything a girl could have asked for … I want to give everything back to you at this point — you deserve all of it and more.”

Part of what made the show so intoxicating to watch was the lack of fanfare when it came to the staging — backed up simply by three jumbotrons and set of metal stairs center stage, Xtina and her once-in-a-generation voice remained the focal point of an otherwise sparse stage.

That is, until, she made a concerted effort to shift that focus. In one of the more touching moments of the evening, Aguilera brought out Ian Axel of A Great Big World to help her deliver a tender rendition of their 2013 duet “Say Something.” Speaking to the crowd beforehand, the pop superstar made it clear exactly what she hoped they would take away from their emotive performance.

“There’s times where we’re looking for answers and looking for hope. There’s a lot of bleak things out there right now. We are here tonight and we stand in unison to be free to be ourselves,” she declared, eliciting roaring cheers from the crowd. “Sometimes we have to remember to stay hopeful and wish others well even in the darkest times. So let’s put well wishes into the world. Here’s hoping for a beautiful future.”

Axel was not the only special guest to join Aguilera for the evening’s events — during a raucous rendition of “Lady Marmalade,” the singer brought out pop-rock sensation and American Idol alum Adam Lambert to perform P!nk’s verse. Dressed in a swanky green leopard-print top and sporting bright purple hair, Lambert offered his own flavor on the iconic Moulin Rouge track, much to the audience’s delight.

But Aguilera wasn’t simply in attendance to give a great show — she came prepared to spread a few important messages. In the lead up to a heart-wrenching rendition of her iconic single “Beautiful,” the backdrop of the stage bore a message directly from the singer, calling out social media’s negative impact on the body image for children today.

The set’s most potent moment, though, came in its penultimate number. As news clips covering the outbreak of anti-LGBTQ legislation in the United States flashed around the backdrop of the stage, Xtina’s voice got angry. “One thing about us; we never quit. We never stop raising our voices,” she declared, before launching into a fiery rendition of “Fighter.” As she growled the empowering lyrics, messages flashed across the stage, declaring that “we are fighters,” and that ultimately, “you are not a crime.”

That theme of self-love permeated Aguilera’s set on Sunday night — as she delivered moment after moment of vocal acrobatics to thrill her audience, she also made sure that they felt just as heard as she did. As her song “Let There Be Love” played and a barrage of fireworks exploded overhead, Xtina offered one final message to her throngs of adoring fans; “Always love yourself, and love one another!”

Check out the full setlist from Christina Aguilera’s 2023 Pride Island performance below:

“Your Body”

“Dirrty”

“Cant Hold Us Down”

“Vanity”

“Genie in a Bottle”

“What A Girl Wants”

“Ain’t No Other Man”

“Say Something” feat. Ian Axel

“Show Me How You Burlesque”

“Lady Marmalade” feat. Adam Lambert

“Beautiful”

“Fighter”

“Let There Be Love”

Big Freedia talks to Billboard about her new album Central City, her new Fuse reality show Big Freedia Means Business, working with legends such as Lil Wayne and Beyoncé, and more!

Big Freedia:They were trying to stop me from gyrating and called all these police.

Tetris Kelly:They called the police?

Big Freedia:Yeah, and I was like, ‘I’m the queen of bounce, honey. You’re all gonna get ready to take me to jail.”

Tetris Kelly:Twerk all the way to the jail, how about that?

Big Freedia:Hey, this is Big Freedia, the queen diva, and this is Billboard News — girl down!

Tetris Kelly:It’s Tetris of Billboard News hanging out with Big Freedia. You looking good! Happy Pride!

Big Freedia:Thank you, happy Pride to you as well.

Tetris Kelly:I have been loving the energy. Have you been celebrating Pride?

Big Freedia:I’ve just been performing everywhere, bringing good energy, you know, going out living in my true being loud and proud.

Tetris Kelly:And I feel like the energy is different this year because of course, we always celebrate Pride. But then there’s so many social issues happening right now. So have you noticed, like, a difference in Pride this year when we’re under attack for so many reasons?

Big Freedia:Yeah, I definitely think that we are being fearfulness. And we are going out there and just showing our true colors, and letting them know that all of these laws that they’re trying to put in place, it’s not really stopping anything. We are going to still stand strong, and we’re gonna come together as a community and keep on fighting for our rights.

Watch Big Freedia’s full interview with Billboard News above!

As we head into the final weekend of Pride celebrations around the U.S., get into some of our favorite new releases from LGBTQ artists! Billboard Pride is proud to present the latest edition of Queer Jams of the Week, our roundup of some of the best new music releases from LGBTQ artists.

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From Kim Petras’ long-awaited new album to Demi Lovato’s seething new anthem for abortion rights, check out just a few of our favorite releases from this week below:

Kim Petras, Feed the Beast

What is the titular Beast of Kim Petras’ new album? For each person it’s different, but for the fast-rising pop superstar, it’s pop music itself. Throughout Feed the Beast, Petras gives in to every pop urge she’s had throughout her career, leaning hard into the Eurodance and rave tracks that raised her (employed to particularly excellent effect on album standout “King of Hearts”), while also dipping a toe back into the bubblegum stylings of her past performances. It’s a relentless, thrilling rollercoaster of pure pop indulgence — which is nothing less than what you’d expect from Petras.

Demi Lovato, “SWINE”

If you thought Demi Lovato was angry on Holy Fvck, you’d better sit down for their new single. “SWINE” is Lovato at her most furious, fueled by righteous indignation at the looming first anniversary of the U.S. Supreme Court overturning Roe v. Wade. Pounding, relentless drums and roiling guitars make “SWINE” sound like a long lost nu-metal anthem, as Lovato bitterly snipes, “F–k what I think, I don’t know a thing/ The government knows my body.” That sound only adds to the star’s seething vocal, as they rage against the system that aims to strip women of their bodily autonomy. When Lovato sings to “give these motherf–kers hell,” it doesn’t sound like a lyric; it sounds like a call to action.

Boyish feat. King Princess, “Kill Your Pain”

There’s just something about the pairing of indie-rock duo Boyish and queer star King Princess that works perfectly. On “Kill Your Pain,” the new collaboration from the trio, Boyish & King Princess are completely in-synch, as they lament a relationship so all-encompassing that they began to lose sight of their individuality. Mikaela Straus fits just right with lead singer India Shore, as they trade verses back and forth about the frantic, messy realization of a connection this doomed.

Hayley Kiyoko, “Somewhere Between the Sand and the Stardust“

With her new single, Hayley Kiyoko is letting us in on something hard. “Somewhere Between the Sand and the Stardust” follows the pop singer as she processes her own grief in the wake of a friend’s death. Her voice, brimming with layers of rich vocoder notes, mournfully tries to make sense of the passing, while also acknowledging the end of her friend’s pain. It’s a heartbreaking ode to losing those we love, and one we highly recommend listening to.

Big Freedia, Central City

Big Freedia never went away — but this week, she’s back in a big way. Central City, the bounce icon’s first full-length studio album in nearly a decade, serves as a hand-guided tour from Freedia through the sonic landscape of New Orleans, featuring all the bounce and hip-hop you could hope to get your hands on. Dash in massive guest appearances from stars like Lil Wayne, Ciara, Faith Evans and plenty more, and you’ve got a monumental moment for the Queen Diva on your hands.

The Blessed Madonna feat. Jacob Lusk, “Mercy”

It’s time to let your hair down, queers — The Blessed Madonna is here with a brand new Pride anthem, just in time as the final festivities of June begin to take place. “Mercy,” featuring vocals by the enchanting Jacob Lusk of Gabriels, is a slice of house music heaven, complete with a four-on-floor beat and some groovy bass to elevate the vibe. By the time the choir kicks in on the song’s post-chorus, you’ll be giving it your all on the dancefloor.

Kidd Kenn, “Everywhere I Go”

For those who have been following the career of up-and-coming rapper Kidd Kenn, be warned; his new era is upon us. “Everywhere I Go” sees the once-rapid rapper switching up his style — gone are the flexed out bars of past singles, now replaced by a more melodic, more even-keeled flow. With that flow comes a new attitude; throughout the track, Kenn exudes nothing but cool, collected confidence on this delectable new offering.

Check out all of our picks on Billboard’s Queer Jams of the Week playlist below:

Sophia Kearney and Steven Braines were sick of just talking about it. As artist managers and longstanding dance world figures, the U.K.-based pair often found themselves on panels at dance industry conferences discussing the lack of inclusivity in the scene, why things needed to change, and how. Eventually they decided to just do it themselves.

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They started pitching the idea for an intersectional, kind of gritty, sort of loose, pleasantly naughty, fully debaucherous and hopefully transformational kind club night at ADE 2017, taking meetings with marquee clubs including London’s Ministry of Sound, Ibiza’s Pacha and Amnesia and spots in Canada, Berlin and beyond. Every single person they pitched to said yes and offered them a budget to make the vision real.

“I remember, we stood under an umbrella in the pissing rain trying to find the next meeting,” says Kearney, “and we just looked at each other like, ‘Okay, now we have to deliver this in four countries in the next six months.’”

They figured it out on the fly, and in the past six years have turned HE.SHE.THEY. into a traveling nightlife bacchanal of music, dancing and freedom of expression that eschews the corporatization/homogenization of the scene that’s happened in many sectors and instead books every single type of DJ (white/black/brown/straight/gay/trans/cis/queer/male/female/etc.) features every single type of dancer (thick/think/curvy/flat/tall/short/etc.) and welcomes every single type of audience member.

There’s no dress code or impossible door policies. Crowds are only asked to abide by ground rules pasted on the walls of any given venue: no ableism, no ageism, no bodyshaming, no homophobia, no misogyny, no racism, no sexism, no transphobia.

Six years after launching, HE.SHE.THEY. is in the midst of its biggest season yet, with an eight-show residency in the coveted Friday night slot at legendary Ibiza mega-club Amnesia, shows in London, New York, Los Angeles and beyon and stage takeovers at events including the U.K.’s Secret Garden Party. The brand has also launched a record label, with releases by Anja Schneider, Rebekah, Cakes Da Killa, Eris Drew and Maya Jane Coles, the the latter of whom Braines also manages. On Saturday (June 24), HE.SHE.THEY will host a stage at the 12-hour Planet Pride month event taking over New York City’s Avant Gardner, with a lineup including ballroom legend MikeQ, sister house duo Coco & Breezy, RuPaul’s Drag Race star Aquaria and London producer and drag queen Jodie Harsh.

The goal, says the pair — who are funny, down to earth, impassioned and loquacious as they Zoom with Billboard from Ibiza — isn’t to create a night for any one type of clubgoer, but rather to bring all types of people together in a diverse, inclusive, and most crucially, fun, setting. Here, they hope, people will see fellow patrons like themselves and fellow patrons not like themselves, with the intersectionality of lineups and audiences not just fostering fired-up dancefloors, but meaningful, resonant experiences where people learn a bit about each other, learn to be less fearful by people not like themselves and then take those lived experiences back out into the world when the party’s over.

“Hopefully,” Kearney says, “that then trickles out into society, of, ‘OK, well I had a laugh and a joke and a shared musical experience with this person on the dancefloor, maybe I might not need to stare at them. Maybe I might speak up if I see somebody else being horrible to them, because I’ve had this shared experience of realizing that we’re all the f–king same.’”

Tell me about the importance of bringing HE.SHE.THEY to Ibiza.

Kearney: We just feel like Ibiza was lacking a bit of that grittiness, a bit of that sweaty naughtiness that it was born upon and known for initially. And whilst we’re a big fan of going out here, and we have many friends that work at all the clubs, we felt like the danceflooors were maybe — and also this is an overarching reason of starting HE.SHE.THEY. — just slightly sterile in places and a bit more about going to the concert of an artist, rather than being there to discover something about yourself, and everybody else you’re meeting on the dancefloor and getting lost in that musical journey. We also felt a lot of the lineups we were seeing perhaps weren’t as inclusive as they could be.

Doing this at a mega-club like Amnesia and bringing a queer party to a not necessarily explicitly queer space —

Braines: HE.SHE.THEY is queer, but it’s more that queer is one strand of it. It’s about diversity and inclusion, and if anything, intersectionality. If you’re a black trans woman, it should be good. But if you’re a straight white man, it should be good…

My experience, anecdotally — I was originally kind of in the closet and then started going to queer knights, but I had no queer friends. My best friend, who’s a straight Iranian Muslim, used to be the person who went clubbing with me. So I actually know the importance of allyship in that way. And also sometimes, I don’t want to be just in a gay space, like “Oh, because my d–k gets hard for a man means I have to go this club.”

Our friend group is naturally like an ’90s United Colors of Benetton ad. It’s just naturally really diverse. Why would we then have to all code switch on a night out? You don’t have to at work, you don’t have to in the supermarket or the cinema — but then when it’s clubs, it’s like, “This is for you, this is for you, this is for you…”

Tell me what it looks like inside the club on any given night.

Kearney: We don’t have a strict dress code or a door policy, because there are some people who’ve come to our events who might dress in jeans and a black T-shirt for the first party. The next party, you’ll see them they’re experimenting with latex or something because they feel comfortable.

Braines: That safer space thing becomes a ghetto if you don’t have other spaces where people can be more clear and democratized. We don’t like, villainize a straight white man, we’re just saying that the whole pie shouldn’t be for you. And same in queer spaces. It shouldn’t just be for queer sis white males.

Kearney: I’m a straight woman for example, so for me, for the party to be inclusive — one of the most important things for me at HE.SHE.THEY. is seeing different body types. I want to look up and see all different body types sweating and loving it, because I feel like I can lose my inhibitions in that space. And I can take my clothes off and wear a bit less, maybe some days I don’t want to, but some days I do. That’s so important in a space where often I might have gone and just seen only a very specific size and shape and movement style — everything’s for a show, everything’s for the male gaze, it’s all about the guys. Everyone wants to be the male DJ in the booth and maybe wants to date the dancers on the stage…

I still felt a little ostracized in those places — like I wasn’t good enough to be one of those dancers on the stage, and therefore, I would dance in a different way, or I would cover myself. It’s just about, “How can we have as many different types of representation behind the decks and with the dancers, to make the maximum amount of people who are coming through our doors — a crowd that’s then naturally more diverse because of the people that you’re booking and what you’re doing — be able to lose their inhibitions and have that clubbing experience that’s such a release from everything everyone’s going through in normal life?” These spaces are so important now. Just as important as at the beginning.

What are the considerations when putting together a lineup?

Kearney: We still book straight sis white men on our lineups, but they’ll generally only tend to be one on a lineup. We hope to platform other people, and we hope to bring the fans of — let’s say we’ve got Ben Klock, Marcel Dettmann — we hope their fans come and then experience a queer black woman who’s directly supporting them and become a fan of that DJ, and also be surrounded by all different types of people on the dancefloor.

Braines: And also for instance, as a queer guy, I don’t just like queer DJs. The thought is that if you look up at the DJ booth at various points in the night, you might not see exactly you. But in the DJ booth at one time, you’d have seen a female DJ, and quite possibly a trans or non binary DJ, and a male DJ and someone of color.

What are the conversations like that you’re having with the venue operators when bring your party to a place like Amnesia or the Brooklyn Mirage?

Kearney: Every single one is different. We’re in a fortunate position where we were music managers by trade, so we had an existing reputation in terms of being good at what we did. We were constantly being put on all these panels at ADE, IMS, Miami Music Week, where I would be put on as a female manager or exec. Stephen would be as a queer person. Everyone was talking about all the problems, but no one was really doing anything to fix it. I think it was largely because a lot of people who were in power just didn’t know how to do it, and didn’t know how to do it authentically.

After moaning at how we’d been put on all these panels for years, we kind of realized, “Well, actually, I don’t know who else in music has this unique point of being able to have peoples’ ear to explain why it’s important… and also be able to deliver something that isn’t box-ticking or tokenistic — and they know they can get things wrong in front of us or ask questions. We’re not here to shoot anybody down or make anyone feel bad if there’s a genuine willingness for learning and change. We’re not perfect, we’re still learning s— every single time. We get things wrong. We check each other on stuff. It’s an ever-growing process of learning.

But in terms of the conversations, they’re different every time. A club in Amsterdam, for example, might be looking to turn the dial on their inclusivity by having more of a gender split in their audience. Whereas there are other clubs that are very much 50/50 in terms of gender, but perhaps the club hasn’t ever catered to queer people on a Friday or Saturday night. It’s about meeting people where they are and hoping to turn the dial the best way we and they can without it being forced and extreme.

In terms of the political climate in the U.S., are there special considerations when you’re bringing the party here? It’s a transphobic moment, women’s rights are being stripped. Obviously, you’re operating in larger cities where these problems are arguably not as palpable, but is there anything you do differently here because of what’s going on?

Kearney: No, but with with the certain attacks and different things that have happened in the U.S. at queer venues and different stuff, there’s a certain level of risk of something happening at our party on a weapon level level that is very unlikely to happen in other territories. That’s something I think about; it’s something that also makes me feel even more passionate about being there… Again, the education and the welcoming of everybody is surely even more important in those places, because they’re even more likely to need to get along with each other and to stick up for each other, because it is more dangerous.

Give me an example of moments at one of your parties recently when everything was happening, and you were like, “OK, this is exactly what it’s about.”

Kearney: There was one where a guy messaged me ahead of one of the parties and said, “Hey, can I come to fabric and can I have five names on the list?” I was like, “Sure.” He messaged me afterwards saying, “I just had to send you a message, because last time we met I had a girlfriend and I didn’t know I was queer. The guest list I asked for was for my now boyfriend and four of my straight mates. I wanted to come out to them, but I didn’t want it to be this massive deal, and I didn’t want to take them to a queer space. Taking them to dinner felt too formal. So I just said, ‘Hey, I’ve got guest list for this for this night at fabric. It’s these DJs playing, come down.”

He told me that they all came and met each other. He introduced the guy as his boyfriend and they spent the whole night raving together and had a great time. It’s things like that that spur us on, because I don’t know where else they would have done that, if the party didn’t hit point of all the straight mates being like, “Oh, our friend’s invited us to fabric and look at the lineup — I know that male DJ that I’ve seen three times before. I don’t know the rest of the lineup, but my mates invited me.” Then they turn up and some people are dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, but then there’s a guy standing in a rubber apron with his bum out, and there’s a girl with a harness with her [chest] out and my friend is telling me he’s with this guy now. Like, chill. Great. Let’s get a drink. Let’s have a dance.

I read that DM from him on a train, and I just burst into tears.

You guys are obviously independent. In terms of massive operators in the space – AEG, Live Nation, what would you recommend they do to make their own dance shows more inclusive?

Braines: With Live Nations and AEGs, because they’re so big, I think you need to change and diversify the workforce itself and the decision-makers at all levels. Because then that does naturally elicit some of these things. Some of the big festivals, rather than having a non-branded dance stage that tends to be the same eight DJs or whatever, use a local promoter, or us, or whoever. There’s so many different collectives. Give them a platform; or have your four people you know are going to sell the tent out, and then go and have a few different collectives. Realistically, hardly anyone is coming for the first two hours of a festival [anyways], so you have a lot of plasticity of what you can play with for that opening slot.

Kearney: I try and think, if we’re putting people on at the very beginning, who are those people that can take the building block of saying “I opened for HE.SHE.THEY, I opened for this big DJ.” Who are those building blocks of information and bio and CV things most useful to, so they can go and grow and pitch to other people and get this other opportunity over here.

Braines: Most importantly, no one’s s–t. Never give a platform to someone who isn’t good.