Artist Interview with Osa Atoe of New Bloods - KRS.gay
As part of our 2021 Pride collaboration with queer indie label Kill Rock Stars, we have been chatting weekly with OUT artists from the KRS roster! Last up in this year’s Pride conversation series is Osa Atoe of New Bloods. Read our interview with Osa below!
What has your experience of being an out artist in the music industry been like?
Pretty natural. New Bloods started in Portland, Oregon which has a huge queer scene that was established for so many years before we ever existed. It was a really easy space to exist as a queer musician.
What was working with such an explicitly queer label like Kill Rock Stars like for you?
I never thought of Kill Rock Stars as a queer label, to be honest. I thought of it as a feminist label, for sure, and within that, I knew our sexuality as a band would never be an issue. Again, the existence of labels like KRS, Chainsaw and Mr. Lady, and knowing about them since I was a teenager made queer identity feel like a normal thing, especially within punk. The path had already been paved for us, we just had to walk it.
You are the creator of Shotgun Seamstress, which, in your words, is "a zine by and for black punks, queers, feminists, activists, artists & musicians." Growing up, did you feel it was a necessity to create those bodies of work? Or did the inspiration come from seeing the imbalance — dominantly white, cis, and hetero attendees — firsthand at shows you would attend and play?
The inspiration for Shotgun Seamstress came from my experience within the punk scene, being one of the only black people around at all times -- including when I lived in Washington, DC. In both DC and Portland, punks were political and racism was always something they were attempting to address. I was always struck by the awkwardness of white people trying to address racism within predominantly white spaces. What does it mean to be actively anti-racist when all of your friends are white? Also, I was reading zines by punks of color who were leaving the scene because they were tired of the predicament of being the only one. But at the time, I loved the punk scene and didn't see myself fitting in anywhere else. So my zine was a way for me to create a home for myself and other Black punks.
The first issue of Shotgun Seamstress came out in 2006. What similarities continue to fill these spaces and conversations in this current day? Has anything changed since then?
Well, writing that zine brought more Black punks into my life, personally, and I think there are just more Black punks in the scene overall than there used to be. The Internet and social media have helped us find each other more easily, too, which didn't exist in the same way back in 2006. Also, even though Afropunk isn't punk in the DIY sense, it still created space for an alternative Black expression. It's punk-adjacent, as the kids say these days. So, even in the mainstream, you see more Black weirdo, punk expression in style and aesthetic than you used to when I was growing up.
You are also a phenomenal ceramic artist. You've recently shared your commemorative pieces that include decals, reminiscent of your cut and paste zines (readers, check out a recent piece here). There are similarities between each medium you work with. Does music and your experience in the music community influence your ceramics?
Thank you! Well, I think with punk, you're in a small world. The punk scene is a small subculture and not that many people in general enjoy punk music because it can be so lo-fi and abrasive. With ceramics, I wanted to be expansive instead of subcultural. I wanted to make work that would help me connect with all kinds of people, not just a specific group. I also wanted to push myself to reach my fullest potential as an artist in terms of skill and expression. With punk, I never felt challenged to do that because that's not important in that world. The challenge in punk was putting yourself out there, daring to finish a project (a zine or a song) and share it. Creating your own spaces by booking shows... All of that has been helpful to me in my ceramics career.
Is the experience of being an OUT artist similar in music, publishing, and ceramic communities?
Well, I married a cisgender man four years ago and we've been together for seven years, so a lot of people who've just met me in the last few years may or may not even know that I'm queer. The great thing about the punk scene, the independent publishing world and the ceramics community is that no one cares if you're gay! Like I said before, in all of those worlds, the path has already been paved for people like me. I was invited to a one-week group residency at Arrowmont School of Crafts in Tennessee and both of the ceramicists who coordinated the event were queer (one of them also performs in drag). I hope I'm not minimizing other people's struggles in these worlds, but I can only speak to my experience. Being queer in these worlds hasn't been an issue for me. To be honest, being Black in all of these scenes has presented more hardship than being queer.
What does the concept of Pride mean to you?
Pride means freedom and freedom means self-acceptance.
Who are some of your queer or trans heroes or influences?
Team Dresch!
How do you feel about having your music labeled as “gay music” or “queer music”?
I'm fine with it, but I'm not sure New Bloods ever was labeled that narrowly. I remember people focusing on our sound, on the fact that we had a violin, and even on the fact that we were girls, more than on our sexualities.
Would you consider your music political?
I'm just not sure at this point. I think that's for our listeners to decide.
Do you have any advice for LGBTQ artists, specifically Black LGBTQ artists, just coming up now?
No. The LGBTQ artists I see these days are showing such a high level of freedom of expression that goes beyond anything I've ever done as a musician. There's nothing I have to offer them. They're doing great.
Why is support for art, music, and venues so important for the well-being of LGBTQ people?
Art is the way creative people turn the tragedy of this world into something beautiful. It can be the way that people fight back when they have no other avenue to do so. Creativity is survival for oppressed people.
What messages do you hope your LGBTQ fans or listeners receive from your music, zines, and ceramics?
That you should never put limits on yourself. That's why I love the term ‘queer,’ because it's limitless. It contains the full spectrum of gender and sexuality. Feel free to be expansive. Reinvent yourself. Do what feels right even if it seems like you're contradicting yourself. Consistency is for robots and machines. We are humans, we are complex and we deserve to exist that way without judging ourselves for it.
For more on Osa Atoe, click HERE.
For more on KillRockStars.gay, click HERE.
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