Everywhere you look in music culture right now, there are lesbians. Everyone – at long last – wants to join our club. From Billie Eilish hitting up Charli XCX from the top of a pile of women’s underwear in the delectable ‘Guess’ music video to Sabrina Carpenter snogging Jenna Ortega, to the sensational takeover of favourite midwest princess Chappell Roan, our power and influence is undoubtedly everywhere.
Now, enter Caroline Kingsbury, whose euphonious vocals in her single ‘Kissing Someone Else’ sound like the love child of Kate Bush and Brandon Flowers, with songs ‘Strawberry Sheets’, ‘Alabama’ and ‘Take My Phone Away’ putting you straight into a queer coming-of-age 80s movie. If Chappell Roan’s Spotify radio playlists haven’t pointed you in her direction already, this might be the first time you’ve heard of Caroline Kingsbury. Expect a larger-than-life energy to her iridescent make-up, Stevie Nicks-esque boot-and-blazer get-ups and ready-to-risk-it-all ballads that are abundant in brutally honest and vulnerable storytelling lyrics, layered with 80s synths and insatiable pounding gated reverb.
It’s evident from her raw lyrics and refreshingly vintage sound that the likes of The Killers and Bruce Springsteen have infused Kingsbury’s compositions with a modern queer sensibility. There are threads of alternative 80s sounds from the Cocteau Twins and Siouxsie and the Banshees as her cornerstones of influence, plus poppier strokes from The Cure, Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. Having released music in the midst of post-Covid life in 2021, Kingsbury is gaining new traction, with ‘Kissing Someone Else’ seeing a second rise as it captures the attention of Chappell Roan fans. Kingsbury’s not far from striking 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and the hit’s streams have soared over one million since the summer, with no sign of slowing down.
“This moment in music is extremely unique, because I’ve been in this world of indie pop, the same world that Chappell was in, and the doors were very, very closed for us, because people would say, ‘why are you trying to market only to the queer people? You don’t want to limit yourself.’ But the gays are my audience. Bitch, you have no idea how many there are of us, and how much we’re willing to show up. Queer people show the fuck up.”
From Florida to Nashville, to Los Angeles
After hilariously navigating an 8-hour time difference between London and LA over Zoom, we chat about the moment for queer women in the mainstream and our mutual admiration for Caroline Polachek and MUNA, and the influences that inspired Kingsbury to pursue music.
“MUNA was definitely that gateway for me with queer music, because it was so mind-altering,” she says. “When I first heard [Muna] I was just like, what? It was all my favourite sounds, and they were speaking about things that I only thought about in my mind.”
From the get-go, Caroline’s Southern warmth, sincerity and emotional intelligence are worn on her sleeve. Born and raised in a beach town on Florida’s east coast, Caroline describes living in Los Angeles as like “another country” from that which she grew up in. “Florida is very conservative, it’s very religious,” she says. “They’re beautiful things about the South and it’s sad because they get completely overshadowed by the racism, homophobia, transphobia, and just overall controlling of women’s bodies.”
Caroline began writing stories and poetry around the age of 11. From there, she was gifted a keyboard, and her curiosity for articulating the world around her combined with a keyboard lent itself instinctively to songwriting. Having grown up in the South, Kingsbury moved to Nashville for college, initially making folk music before making a career-defining move to LA. It was here where Kingsbury truly stepped into herself, coming out as queer and making the conscious decision to transition to a bigger sound.
“I was heavily into The Killers at the time, and I wanted to fucking put on a show,” she exclaims. “I want to make people feel things. I want to have fun. I’m bored as fuck with my acoustic guitar up here. I want to level up. I just was desperate to express myself. When I got into my 80s influences, I felt how expressive it is.”
Kingsbury released her first album in 2021, but despite the rapidly cumulating Spotify hits of late, the album was met with multiple challenges before it could break out into the world. In 2019, Kingsbury lost her brother to a brain tumour and experienced a relationship breakdown with her dad, experiences that were both incredibly difficult to grapple with before the impending pandemic would then bring with it a whole new way of living.
“But it was how I finished my album,” she assures me with a sense of strength and acceptance in her tone. “My debut album was those experiences, it has shaped my music. Grief shapes everything because it changes you as a person,” she adds. “Grief is like moulding you like clay in a way, and so now everything that I do, I feel this, not necessarily sadness anymore because it’s been a long time, but everything I do, I feel connected to my brother Kyle.”
“Queer people show the fuck up”
With her journey into music accumulating to a decade so far, it’s been no mean feat for Kingsbury, despite the personal and industry challenges she’s faced.
“I’m very proud of that because it has been very hard. But I am proud of it because I’m a real fucking artist and whether or not shit works out in all of the amazing ways that I hope they do, I know that I’m a fucking artist and that this is my path, and that feels good,” she says proudly. “I don’t necessarily need to make it to feel worthy of being here. I feel so comfortable in my queerness and I’m a lesbian and I’m just like, this is me. Getting to dress up in my 80s style and having so much fun with the visuals and the music videos and stuff, it’s really just my heart and soul, you know?”
When I ask Kingsbury what’s spurring the current lesbian moment, speaking in favour of Chappell Roan’s reign, she agrees with enthusiasm. “But there’s so much more to be obsessed with,” she adds, referencing Remi Wolf as one of her artists of the moment without missing a beat. “I want Remi Wolf to get her flowers. I think she deserves the Chappell Roan treatment. Let’s go.” She adds Empress of, Muna and Kehlani along to the expanding list. “I’m just loving this taking back of the sexualisation of lesbians, and we’re like, we’re going to sexualise ourselves, bitch. It’s so awesome.”
“This moment in music is extremely unique, because I’ve been in this world of indie pop, the same world that Chappell was in, and the doors were very, very closed for us because people would say, ‘Why are you trying to market only to the queer people? You don’t want to limit yourself.’ But the gays are my audience. Bitch, you have no idea how many there are of us, and how much we’re willing to show up. Queer people show the fuck up.”
Authentic advocacy in music and beyond
But for Caroline, this isn’t only about music. Commenting on the current political climate, Kingsbury references the push-and-pull dynamic between conservative and liberal agendas spreading across the UK, Europe and the West. “It’s been really disorienting for the world and for our countries because it’s just so extreme, it’s going beyond politics and it’s going into a really scary place, with increased violence against women. This is why this music is happening,” she says. “All of this shit is why women, queer people, lesbians, we are coming up because it’s a reaction to all of this shit. We’re like well, there are too many of us to sit down and let all this shit happen, you know? It’s so connected to me with the political climate and the feeling that’s happening in the world. Chappell is ushering that ultimately.”
As Kingsbury observantly points out, much of the representation we’re witnessing in the media is also largely cisgender and white. “In our queer community, we are all in this together. We all celebrate when one of us has a moment, but I’m really hoping this is ushering in a change in the music industry to uplift artists who have real, genuine talent… I’m just hoping that the music industry sees how big Chappell Roan is out of nowhere because she has genuine talent and is responding to the moment and is making classic fucking songs that aren’t just the Tik Tok trend… I want to have songs of mine feel like what Fleetwood Mac feels to us now. It doesn’t all have to just be a flash in the pan moment for TikTok.”
As our conversation reluctantly comes to a close, Kingsbury concludes with a pertinent point of hope and accountability, asserting the need to be authentic as part of the journey towards change. “Change is happening, but we can’t get distracted. We can’t think that the world is healed because it’s not,” she says. “We’ve made progress for sure, and it’s exciting. I think a huge part of my music is that I just want to be myself as boldly and loudly as I want, and if you like it, you like it. If you don’t like it, you don’t like it.”
For Caroline Kingsbury, the dream for her future is to be a touring artist, playing around the world and working on a new album. Her new EP will drop in October, and you can now listen to her newest single, ‘Throw My Phone Away’, which she wrote with writer Justin Tranter two years ago, the same writer who penned ‘Good Luck Babe’ with Chappell Roan. You can also catch her touring as the main support on The Mirror Ball Tour in 2025 with Pom Pom Squad, just announced.
While you’re here, why not read more on Lesbian Pop Phenomenon: Chappell Roan.
Lauren is a writer and editor based in Peckham, covering all things queer culture, books, travel, arts and lifestyle, fashion and creativity. She was previously a features editor at New Statesman Media Group and now works freelance and part-time hoping she may never work 9-5 ever again.
