From the Stage to the Studio: The World of Drag Music

The queens of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” have achieved critical recognition for their many talents. Music, as of now, is not one of them.

Written by Felix Kalvesmaki

Drag queens don’t get enough credit. In order to compete on “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” queens have to be able to:

Do makeup on themselves and others.
Design and construct garments.
Model those and other garments on a runway.
Sing.
Dance.
Act.
Do comedy.

And for the series’ mini-challenges, sometimes they have to get it all done in under 20 minutes.

While not everyone who wins “Drag Race” necessarily has to be fantastic at all of these, they have to at least be able to fake it until they (hopefully) make it to the end. Singing isn’t difficult to fake on the show — they’ll probably autotune you anyway.

However, faking a singing career in the world outside of “Drag Race” is no easy task. Many queens from the show have tried flexing their musical muscles, but it’s difficult to say which of them have truly succeeded, especially because it’s hard to tell if some of their recordings come from a place of genuine artistry or are simply cash grabs for onstage lip syncing. Because of this, the world of drag music can feel crowded and confusing. It seems like every queen out there has a single with plans to release an album. But here’s the thing: some of it is actually good. And it’s not a one hit sort of industry either.

Some queens’ music can be enjoyable simply because they have a passion for it. Monét X Change’s EP Unapologetically showcases her classically-trained, opera house vocals. Her regal rendition of “Ave Maria” alone is enough to grip listeners for the rest of the EP, which is also groovy and infectious. She genuinely enjoys being in the booth and letting loose, which makes her EP a rewarding listen.

However, Monét X Change also relies on tired drag music cliches: pop, club, and maybe a bit of rapping. This isn’t to say that any of those fallbacks are negative, but they add little to the drag music genre. “There For You,” for instance, runs off of one repeating instrumental. Different percussive elements come in occasionally, but it feels rather flat and stagnant overall. It doesn’t do anything to turn the dance genre on its head, and this is where a lot of queens stumble.

For instance, Alaska 5000’s “Your Makeup Is Terrible” is sonically what a fair number of queens would create given a budget and a producer. It’s electronic and danceable, it heavily draws from gay culture, and it’s very campy, a word often defined as bad taste on purpose and in earnest. More than just a Met Gala theme, John Waters explains it best: “To understand bad taste one must have very good taste.” This is what a lot of drag music tends to be: good bad taste. It’s campy and fun, but that stops many listeners from engaging with it critically. However, plenty break the mold of what a drag queen can do as a musician.

Enter queens like Adore Delano, who has forged a singular sound by writing and recording grunge music in addition to putting on makeup and a mountain of wigs. This isn’t to say that music like Delano’s is somehow more valuable because she can play guitar. Though her sound is different, she does not represent all that drag has to offer — and nobody should have to.

This is why it’s important to amplify and recognize the talents of all types of drag musicians. For instance, “C.L.A.T.,” a clubby collaboration between Peppermint, Sasha Velour, Alexis Michelle, and Aja explores NYC culture. On the other hand, some listeners may relate more to Bob the Drag Queen’s bravado on the dancefloor banger “Purse First” or Yvie Oddly’s party-ready “Hype.” And hell, as corny as it is, “Sissy That Walk” is RuPaul’s most popular song for a reason.

However, these songs tend to fall under the category of “drag music,” stripping them of their propensity to be viewed and critiqued as genuine art.

Take Pitchfork, for instance. The reason that “The Most Trusted Voice In Music” has hardly covered drag culture and music at all is because a lot of it is simply too campy. This is a shame, considering that even Anna Wintour of Vogue decided camp was en vogue (literally) when she declared it the theme of 2019’s Met Gala. In the way that many queens present it, camp became something of an intellectual debate that American pop culture has embraced. If Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s “WAP” was arguably an exercise in camp and blue humor, why is it that when LGBTQ+ entertainers do it, Pitchfork won’t touch it with a ten-foot pole?

There are exceptions, of course, like the nightlife legend Peppermint. The New York City queen, who placed second on season nine of “Drag Race,” has broken into Broadway with her performance in the jukebox musical “Head Over Heels.” Not insignificantly, Peppermint was also the first person to compete on “Drag Race” as an out trans woman and was the first trans person to score a lead role on Broadway. Her inclusion in a cis male-dominated sphere is significant: as she said in a Time Out New York interview, “It’s important to allow people with lived experience, who can speak authentically, to give their input in the creation of these roles.”

Peppermint’s casting in the show is a sign of a better future: one in which the world of drag is evaluated, engaged with, and critiqued as the illustrious, legendary art form that it is. It’s an art form that has empowered individuals like Marsha P. Johnson to bring LGBTQ+ people across America to rally for their rights during the Stonewall uprisings. It’s the art that has inspired legends over decades, from Madonna to Lady Gaga. And it’s the art that continues to inspire LGBTQ+ people all over the world.

Afterglow ATXOctober 7, 2020felix kalvesmaki