Empowering Black LGBTQ+ Artists Through Music at GLAAD's ...

In the vibrant tapestry of human expression and experience, music has always been a powerful medium for storytelling, and one with historical significance in Black communities. Music’s ability to evoke emotions, paint vivid imagery, and convey deep narratives has made it a vital tool for sharing experiences. At GLAAD’s inaugural Black Queer Creative Summit, powered by Gilead Sciences and sponsored by Spotify, attendees had the opportunity to learn from and connect with artists and music industry professionals who’ve long navigated their identities through their work.

The summit was geared towards empowering, educating, and training emerging Black LGBTQ+ creatives across five sectors of the entertainment industry. The summit’s Music Supervision Track featured panels that shed light on the profound impact of music in telling the stories of Black LGBTQ+ artists, and how music resonates with audiences of various backgrounds.

One panel on music supervision, “Music Can Tell Your Story, Too,” was moderated by Victor Jackson, artist, and founder of Glam Rock Soul Entertainment Group, and featured Jess Furman, Sr. Executive Creative Director of Sound Revolver; Ryan Butler, Vice President of Diversity, Equity & Inclusion of The Recording Academy; and Alaysia Sierra, Head of R&B at Spotify. For the Record got a sneak preview of the conversation between Victor, Jess, Alaysia, and Ryan.

Victor: I fully consider it. I move through the world as a Black queer man, so in approving my music, the writing of it, the creating the performances of it, it’s very important to me to take up space in my authenticity. To take up space in my Blackness, in my queerness, and in the divinity of both. So, it has a large impact on how I show up in the world and how I show up in the studio and on stage.

Jess: For me, as a queer woman, it’s about maintaining a sense of visibility in all the different areas and holding the door open. We do a lot with “Women in the Mix,” showing that there are women producers, writers, and engineers. We held “Out Sessions” a couple of years ago with my non-profit, Motion Creative, which were three days of a writing camp for LGBTQ+ creators, and everything there, including the food and wine vendors, were queer.

Alaysia: Being a Black, queer, nonbinary person in music means a lot to me because I know how important it is for that visibility. When I was looking at the industry growing up, I actually never really saw anyone who shared my identities, and so I know for people who aspire to work in music to look in and see someone who looks like them will reassure them that it’s possible.

Ryan: Throughout my career, I’ve strived to uplift marginalized voices and break down harmful stereotypes, whether in the Black community or queer community. As a Black queer man, I understand firsthand how narratives shape perceptions and that representation matters.

Several of the artists in attendance, including Atlanta-based HALÉS, 23-year-old techno-R&B creator SHAH, singer-songwriter-producer-motivational speaker-advocate Nathan Townsend, Berlin-based creative Sedric Perry, and self-made artist Damez, also shared some thoughts on how the music industry can become more inclusive and supportive of emerging Black queer artists. They also gave advice to emerging creators who are navigating their identities—and amplifying their communities—through their work.

HALÉS: “I’m a storyteller at heart, an educator by trade—I’m a professor at Kennesaw State University—so I take all of those things and bring it into my artistry and into my music, in order to navigate what this world is and what this industry is. In looking at the narrative power of music, one thing I hold so hard, that I try to do in poetry, in my songwriting, in writing for others, is bringing in the real stories of real people that I know, especially real Black queer people, to make sure that their stories are being told.

SHAH: “My advice to upcoming artists—not to be cliché—is to remain authentic. What I have run into and struggled with over the last eight years is feeling like I have to fit into a certain box, whether I’m a Black artist or a queer artist; to fit into specific niches to be sellable. As I made progress within the industry, I would meet people who would reinforce those things and those fears around success within my own authenticity.

Nathan Townsend: “I have to lead with the fact that I’m 69 years old, and it’s taken me this long in my professional development to come to a space…

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