.gay Music Monday Feature: Adam Matonic

Jan 22

In this week's edition of our .gay Music Monday Feature blog series, we caught up with Adam Matonic to learn more about LGBTQIA+ empowerment, Queer intimacy, and their garage-pop, glam-rock sound.

Read our chat with them below.

**What inspired you to start playing and making music?**
My voice developed as an “opera voice” very early in my life. I think I was 14 when my voice teacher in Pittsburgh looked at me and said, “You could be an opera singer.” And I thought, “Well….I guess I’ll be an opera singer.” It wasn’t until years of going from voice teacher to voice teacher — some of whom described my voice as too feminine or too odd — that I decided the opera stage wasn’t for me. I remember one night toward the end of time as a voice major, my friends and I went to a gay bar called the Hideaway in Rock Hill, South Carolina, and I sang “No One Else on Earth” by Wynona Judd and “Stoney End” by Laura Nyro.

I realized I liked singing in front of guitars, ...even if they were karaoke guitars. Later I ended up moving into the punk house and sang backup for two bands. In my last year of living in the South, I met Tori Amos at a meet and greet in Atlanta. And she said, “Why are you singing back-up?” I thought, “Wow, maybe she has a point."

What do you like most about playing music?

Performing is the best kind of catharsis because it’s not just one person’s catharsis. It’s the purest exchange of energy. Even if what I’m doing onstage completely perplexes half the audience and has the other half dancing, I consider that an exchange of energy that I feel happy to have a role in.

How would you describe the music that you typically create?

My music expresses itself in all kinds of genre-bending ways. “Raging Bull” has a garage-pop, glam-rock flavor, but there are songs on the album coming out that veer into twangy dream pop, folk-pop, and electronica. The creative process for me is always intensely collaborative. When I’m recording anything, I always think about something Erykah Badu said: “Recording music is capturing a moment.” So I tend to stay attached to original first or second vocal takes for that very reason. Nothing sounds as real to me as the first time it’s being sung.

Why do you think it’s important to be out and proud in the music industry?

My queer identity is incredibly central to my work because I see songwriting as the most evocative way to tell any story. Stories of queer intimacy are so marginalized and often over-simplified, and being out and proud and vulnerable enough to share music is an act of tremendous courage. I remember people when I lived in Charleston, South Carolina people would say things like, “You’re so brave.” And I would think, “Hmm, I’m only wearing a sheer tiger-striped button-down to work at my barista job.” That didn’t feel brave. But waking up every day and deciding I’m going to walk with the thunder that would make the LGBTQ+ artists I admire proud, and choose to keep writing, keep singing, and keep going — that’s an important example to set for the queer artists who will emerge in the coming years.

As an LGBTQ+ artist, what do you want to convey with your music?

Queer intimacy is worth singing about unapologetically. If I’m writing a song about a complicated romantic moment, there’s something in me that dares me to go inside the space between the complications and see what words and sounds come out. Hearing it all come together can be shocking, but I trust that inner-dare every time.