I’m with Torres. Let’s Try to Move On From the Term “Queer Country”

Random Notes 75 Comments


Get ready. Similar to how many of the conversations surrounding country music in 2024 were all about race in the aftermath of the release of Beyoncé’s album Cowboy Carter, so are many of the conversations going to be about sexual orientation and “queerness” in 2025, at least for the coming weeks and months. Similar to the Beyoncé moment, this will be stimulated by popular performers from outside of the country genre making “country” albums and songs.

On March 13th, massive pop star Chappell Roan will be releasing her self-proclaimed country song called “The Giver.” Roan first performed the song on Saturday Night Live on November 2nd, 2024, but uncharacteristically, SNL did not post the performance on YouTube afterwards in anticipation for the impending single release.

Long story short, “The Giver” is told from the perspective of a woman who believes she can please another woman better than any man. Though we have not heard the studio recording of the song just yet, the live performance included fiddle, and generally speaking, sounded pretty country. Chappell Roan has also hinted she might record a full country album in the future.

Meanwhile, two high profile women from the indie rock world in Julien Baker and Torres are releasing a self-described country album called Send a Prayer My Way on April 18th. They’ve released a few songs so far, namely “Tuesday,” “Sylvia,” and “Sugar in the Tank,” none of which feel especially “country” and are more like indie rock with maybe some country inflections, perhaps pulling them into “Americana.” But it’s still early on.

Recently, the two performers were on The Daily Show to perform the unreleased song “Bottom of a Bottle,”—which sounds more country than the other songs they’re released so far—and to chat with current Daily Show host Michael Kosta.

“I guess let’s talk about genre for a second. The title ‘Queer country album.’ Does that evoke anything? Do you bother that somebody might call it that? Are you proud of that?” Kosta asks.

Torres answers, “I’m certainly proud of it. We’re queer, you know.” But then Torres qualifies, “If it were up to me, it would just be country,” with Julien Baker saying “Yeah” in agreement.

Torres then continues, “But I’m very proud to have made a queer country album, absolutely.”

So the question is, if it was up to Julien Baker and Torres, they would just call it a “country” album, why aren’t we?


For years now, “Queer Country” has been a favorite phrase of music publicists in the country and roots space because it opens the door to favored press coverage, leveraging positive sentiments within the press corps for a marginalized group. But the term has always been very problematic, at least from the perspective of Saving Country Music.

First, by labeling a performer “Queer Country,” you’re not breaking down barriers, you’re erecting them with country music’s more conventional and conservative fans, fair or not. Sometimes the term is purposely used to shock in a misguided belief that you can shock country fans into submission. Generally speaking, most country music fans don’t really care about the sexual orientation of performers in 2025. But when it prefaces the music, or is foisted up them in a way that feels political, there is an immediate repulsion to the idea.

Granted, the reason “Queer Country” is employed is to create appeal to other demographics, but the use of this term erects a strong ceiling over the prospects for an artist, an album, or a song.

There is also an “othering” aspect that comes with assigning a country artist a qualifying term, as if an LGBT artists need to be segregated into some new separate subgenre because of their sexual orientation. Country music and music in general has been criticized for segregating Black artists into “race records” back in the ’20s and ’30s. Even up into the ’80s and ’90s, Billboard had a “Hot Black Singles” chart.

In truth, these charts and designations were actually used in part to make sure Black performers were being given their fair due and to help consumers find the type of music they were looking for. But over time, society decided this was demeaning, and did away with the practice. Re-instituting the othering of artists based on sexual orientation runs this same risk.

Then of course there is the concern that the term “queer” always has been and always will be a considered euphemistic offensive slang. Of course, the purpose of using the “queer” term widely is to attempt to retake the term from those who would use it to offend. But that doesn’t mean it still isn’t being wielded as an insult, and will continue to be well into the future. Nobody would forward using “fagg–” country, or N-word country to reclaim those terms.

For example, On October 21st, 2019, a county commissioner in Sevier County, Tennessee by the name of Warren Hurst found himself in hot water for using the term “queer” during a commissioner’s meeting. “We’ve got a queer running for president,” Hurst blurted, presumably referring to Pete Buttigieg who was running for the Democratic nomination at the time.

The commissioner followed it up with a, “I’m not prejudiced, but by golly…” But that did little to quell local, and some national outrage. The “queer” comment forced Sevier County to issue a public rebuke, saying “The statements made by Commissioner Hurst … do not reflect the opinion or position of Sevier County administration. Sevier County is an Equal Opportunity Employer and does not discriminate based on race, color, religion, sex, national origin, age, disability, or status in any other group protected by law.”

Sevier County also happens to be where Dolly Parton’s Dollywood theme park is located. As a long-time strong advocate for the LGBT community, pressure mounted for Dollywood to make a statement as well, even though neither Dolly Parton nor the park had any ties to this particular commissioner, or no responsibility for the language he used. On October 23rd, Dollywood issued a statement saying in part, “We read the comments made in Monday night’s County Commission meeting, and they do not reflect the Dollywood experience in any way. Dollywood is open and welcoming to everyone, every day.”

But now journalists and the public are supposed to freely use the term “queer” as a term of endearment, and hope there is no blow back or rebuke? Advocates in the LGBT community will chide back that this is a settled matter, and “queer” is now widely accepted. The context of how the term is used is also important. But as we have seen over the years, what is decreed acceptable and deleterious can change on a dime, often as the very meaning of language is augmented to win arguments in real time.

Though many are using the term “queer” widely now, if norms shift, the use of the term could be taken differently retrospectively as we have seen with other terms that were used in the past, but are now judged from present-day perspectives. Journalists could be criticized for describing a country artist as “queer,” and country music could be criticized for segregating LGBT artists into their own “Queer Country” subgenre in the future, especially since the term is still defined as offensive.

Also, the nebulous nature and definition of the term “queer” is something that is currently being used by some for surreptitious marketing. There are performers in committed heterosexual relationships with members of the opposite sex, including in marriages with kids using the “queer” term because they believe it will help their careers through positive coverage in the press.

The point of qualifying a performer as “queer” is to say they have dealt with discrimination in their lives and careers. But in the opportunistic medium of the attention economy, some love to claim discrimination and marginalization to garner attention. This dubious practice takes attention away from actual LGBT artists that the “Queer Country” term was designed to benefit.

For a few years there was even a specific outlet called queercountry.com. It imploded in arguments about language use and “micro-aggressions” and other concerns between editors and staff. Since the use of language is so significant to these communities—and so mutable and shifting to accommodate someone’s argument being made in real time—these communities often eat themselves in revolving debates where anything at any time can be deemed offensive.

All of this is what makes the term “queer” a dangerous mine field to navigate for journalists and music professionals with good intentions, who then can have their words twisted back upon them by people seeking victimization in either the present or future tense. Don’t be surprised if this happens with this very article, with comments taken out-of-context, and then re-introduced for undermining purposes.

At events such as SXSW and AmericanaFest, you regularly see “Queer Country” or “Queer Roots” showcases, and they’re often well-attended. But are these events really working to break down barriers in country music, or are they doubling down on them by segregating LGBT artists into a separate community? Wouldn’t it be better if those artists were being presented within the greater population of performers to prove they’re just like other country artists? Wouldn’t this truly be the way to break down those barriers?

One good counter-argument is how these performers aren’t receiving the same opportunities as straight performers, and so they’re having to built their own outlets and communities. Again, this is one the reasons charts were created at times to specifically cover Black music that was sometimes being marginalized in greater society.

Another important point to underscore is that “Queer Country” doesn’t just necessarily describe the sexual orientation of a performer. It also speaks to the lyrical content of a piece of music, told from the perspective of an LGBT individual. In this context, calling a song or album “Queer Country” could be a legitimate way to describe the music, no different than any other country music subgenre.

But it all makes one wonder if we would just be better off moving on from “Queer Country,” and simply calling these artists “country” as Torres said she would prefer on The Daily Show. Or at the least, we should imagine a moment in the future when the “Queer Country” term could be retired or deprecated, because it’s unnecessary. If that’s the ideal, why don’t we yearn for that? You can still have showcases and playlists that feature LGBT artists in country. But insist they be called country, if they’re indeed country.

Over the next few weeks and months, you’re going to see ample moments when Julien Baker and Torres, and Chappell Roan will be vociferously praised and applauded for breaking down barriers in country music, and reaching unprecedented heights for “queer” artists in country.

Through this action, the contributions of actual groundbreaking performers like K.D. Lang, Patrick Haggerty, Sugarland’s Kristen Hall, songwriters Jimbeau Hinson and Shane McAnally, Trixie Mattell’s early albums, let alone Brandy Clark and Brandi Carlile, and scores of other artists will all be overlooked.

KD Lang in 1988


Just like we saw with Beyoncé and Cowboy Carter for country’s native Black performers, many of country music’s actual LGBT artists and their important benchmarks and contributions will be superseded for praising these performers for side projects, acting like they are the first in a strikingly homophobic genre that hasn’t evolved at all. This is what Rolling Stone did when the supergroup The Highwomen released the song “If She Ever Leaves Me,” and praised it as the first ever gay country song … in 2019.

Rolling Stone is already on the case with Julien Baker and Torres, publishing a puff piece over a month ahead of the album release, calling it “pure country” and comparing them to a “Waylon and Willie of modern times.” All of this is proclaimed by a pop writer named Abigail Covington who is uniquely unqualified to make such proclamations, and similar to calling this duo “Queer Country,” will actually repulse and polarize this project as opposed to ingratiate it to the country music public before it’s even released.

Julien Baker and Torres are critically-acclaimed indie rockers, and for good reason. Their upcoming album should be regarded with the same open mind as any artist should be graced with, regardless of who they are, or where they’re originally from in the music world.

But it should not be at the expense of the LGBT artists who came before them, and it shouldn’t be simply because they’re lesbians. If Send a Prayer My Way is a country album, let’s call it country, like Torres says she prefers. The same goes with the Chappell Roan song. Let’s judge all of this music upon its own merits, and the same benchmarks all country music is. Because that’s the only way any remaining barriers for LGBT artists will ever be broken down.

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