Mighty Real: A History of LGBTQ Music, 1969-2000

by Barry Walters

“An excellent history of the queer world’s countless music scenes.”
—Emma Alpern, Vulture

“An essential book for this moment.”
—Rob Sheffield

The definitive history of LGBTQ music, from Stonewall to RuPaul, and its impact on culture and American life

From the underground dancefloors of the Seventies to the global charts of the Nineties, LGBTQ artists and audiences shaped music’s sound, style, and spirit. In Mighty Real, veteran journalist Barry Walters chronicles its LGBTQ history from the Velvet Underground to the 21st century’s dawn as he honors the artists who redefined gender, defied tradition, and dared to challenge sexual norms with the help of a record business that wasn’t as straight as commonly believed.

Drawing on his decades as a New York- and San Francisco-based music critic, Walters examines how LGBTQ musicians, music industry executives, and fans reshaped the mainstream. He connects the dots between David Bowie’s dazzling reinventions, Grace Jones’s androgynous glamor, Prince’s boundary-shattering sexuality, and the radical candor of the Indigo Girls to prove they’re all doing the same fighting oppression.

With exuberance, insight, and encyclopedic knowledge, Walters brings to life the songs and society that filled dancefloors, bedrooms, and streets as he uncovers yesteryear’s coded LGBTQ messages that paved the way for today’s unabashedly queer hits. Mighty Real is a masterful love letter to the music that liberated generations, and it’s written in a page-turning, personal way that blurs distinctions between chronicle and memoir. This is the rare and revolutionary music history told to help you laugh, cry, and then rally against lingering inequality.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, History, LGBT, Queer, Audiobook, Queer Lit

Audible Audio

Published May 12, 2026

Reviews

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although I grew listening to so much of the music talked about in this book (as well as so many I had never heard of - there is so much covered here), I haven't ever studied music history. Well, unless you count the music history class I had to take when I was still Baptist and went to Bible college. Where they required us to take a class about the history of hymns. I actually haven't thought about that in at least a decade. Probably more. Ugh.

I learned so much about different songs and artists that I loved. Some I never knew had roots in gay culture, but definitely made sense when I thought about it. It actually was amazing how much information he was able to include in the book without feeling like anything was rushed or glossed over.

The part I loved the most was finding out the author saw Cyndi Lauper before she was a star and get booed on stage. I can't imagine anyone booing her. I grew up with her music, and I think she was my favorite singer, after Madonna, of course. No one could compete with Madonna.

Would definitely recommend this book to anyone looking to learn more about LGBT+ history, especially music history.

Thanks so much to NetGalley for the free Kindle book. My review is voluntarily given, and my opinions are my own.

[V. Briceland · Rating 5 out of 5]

Just in time for Pride, long-time music journalist Barry Walters' examination of LGBTQ music from 1969-2000, Mighty Real, has arrived to rock, pop, disco, folk, and hip-hop my world.

I suppose it's a sign of Mighty Real's breadth that Walters examines, in delicious and digestible bite-sized chunks, the careers and messages of as many artists I never cottoned to or even had heard of, as those I've loved through the decades. Since I deliberately skipped over the table of contents, each new chapter felt like unwrapping a holiday gift. One moment, I might thrill to discover I was about to encounter Walters' insights into Labelle, one of my favorite bands; the next, I'd be wading into the unfamiliar waters of Lavender Country.

Readers will find some expected personalities here—Elton John, Queen, and of course Sylvester, who provided the book's title—but Walters shines his rainbow spotlight on lesser-known names who deserve recognition as well, like trans electronic pioneer Wendy Carlos. The chapter on Motown was an eye-opener. I'd no idea the label was so progressive in its inclusion of queer audiences. Thanks to that one chapter alone, my music playlist was for days filled with albums I'd never before encountered but now love. (Seriously, check out The Dynamic Superiors.)

Maybe more importantly, Walters helped me to refocus my admiration for certain artists in a new way. My love for Blondie and Debbie Harry from the seventies and beyond mirrors his own journey with the band, and seems to be a common experience for gay men of a certain age. And while I'd loved Prince and the Revolution during the nineteen-eighties, I'd never really thought to consider how its two lesbian musical forces, Wendy and Lisa, had really shaped Prince's music and career during his imperial phase.

I gently disagree with some aspects of Walters' insights. I feel he gives too much of a free pass for David Bowie, a hero for me as a baby gay in the seventies for coming out as randily bisexual, who then seriously disappointed and frustrated me in the eighties and beyond in interviews by essentially saying, "Ha ha ha, mate, just kidding about that gay stuff!" I was worried Walters might similarly soft-pedal the whole Donna Summers debacle (about which I'm also sore) of the eighties in which she shoved away her queer audience with a declaration of "It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." He doesn't, thankfully.

I suspect that folk might argue about who is and isn't included in the sixty-chapter book. Some of the artists to whom Walters devotes a chapter seem included more on the basis of vibes than as existing as LGBTQ artists or contributing to LGBTQ culture. Madonna may not be queer, for example, but her roots are deeply entrenched in the gay New York City of the nineteen-eighties. To me, that's a more substantial reason for her excellent chapter than, say, the one on Iggy Pop, who just came off as a little fruity on a talk show with his pal David Bowie, one time. I personally would have included a chapter on the gender transgressions of Pete Burns and Dead or Alive, or the lavish queer excesses of Army of Lovers, than the one that exists on Gary Numan—who seems to be included because he was slightly effeminate and straight, but the gays liked him.

But overall, Walters expertly sums up the enthusiasms of the decades after Stonewall and before the advent of social media, when queer audiences would read into the lyrics, sounds, and images of our musical artists to find reflections of ourselves and our loves, and to connect with each other. The inclusion of a discography at the book's conclusion ties up this shiny package with a glittery bow. Recommended.

[Min · Rating 3 out of 5]

A solid three stars, mainly for the utter amount of knowledge shared here. And I really did learn a lot about musicians and music industry influences. Unfortunately, it also just lacked narrative. The musicians in the stories felt flat, though we know they are not! It felt more like a download of factoids rather than a cohesive narrative about the LGBTQ music space (or lack of it).

Additionally. I did not care for the author narrating. Ultimately, I feel books are better narrated by professionals. Now maybe that just wasn’t in the budget. And he wasn’t the worst narrator I’ve heard. It just wasn’t great and may have contributed to the flatness I felt throughout.

[Kurt · Rating 2 out of 5]

Read this one for the book club (which unfortunately I probably won't even be able to attend this time!). I'm going to be hard on it because I'm certain it could be much better than it is. Where to start? First of all, the subtitle seems like a misnomer: that should probably read "1969-1989", since acts that actually got their start in the 90s are barely covered here, relegated to less than 50 pages at the end. All of riot grrrl and hip-hop gets summed up in barely 5 pages! Not one mention of Sleater-Kinney! I think this has a lot to do with Walters' own memory and bias towards his coming-of-age years, but it doesn't excuse sloppy history if that's what your book purports to be! Also, I can't help but feel like reading this book cover-to-cover (the way you might expect to for most "histories") isn't actually a very good way to approach it; its format breaks things down by artists and scenes, with a different chapter for each covered. This makes it really more of an "encyclopedia" than a "history", so perhaps a reader might get more out of this if they approached it as such: read the chapters on the stuff that interests you, skip the rest.

It's not all bad - I can't say I didn't learn a lot about certain scenes and artists. The book's most effective passages are when Walters brings his own music journalist experiences into it with insights from his interviews with some of these figures in the past, and the recollections of Luther Vandross and Whitney Houston are the most interesting. Still, I'm a little annoyed about this one (and especially annoyed I won't get to complain to the book club about it) simply because it had the potential to be a much more definitive history and seemingly fumbles that opportunity in favour of nostalgic reminiscing.

[Samantha Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a delight to read! Mighty Real chronicles LGBTQ+ music from the late 60’s to 2000 with personal insights from Barry Walter’s personal life and professional career. He discusses artists like Bowie and Madonna as well as music movements like Disco and women’s music. His chapter on Whitney Houston was particularly interesting due to his personal memory from interviewing her.

As Walter’s moves through the music timeline into the 80’s and 90’s a lot of the chapters reflect on the AIDS epidemic. Its impact so strong on the tone of music, on the loss of artists and their listeners due to the disease and how so many fought against the dark time. It highlights how powerful music can be and was a great emotion through-line through most of the book.

I highly recommend doing the audio as Walter is its narrator as well. It feels like he’s chatting with us the reader about these artists. The moments he would sing talk to emphasize a part of a song he was discussing just adds to the audiobook’s charm. Definitely recommend this to anyone who loves music and wants to learn about queer history.

[Alex Miller · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very ambitious, insightful, and important, and I’ll definitely recommend reading in its physical form.
That said, the quality of writing is a bit undermined in the audiobook format. It’s read by the author who has a nice speaking voice and brings a valuable authenticity during more biographical sections; it improves as you go along, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much a professional narrator would have elevated the experience.

[Audrey Dubois · Rating 2 out of 5]

AUDREY’S ONE-SENTENCE BOOK REVIEWS

as much as I love all the tunes listed here, the sheer scope of the subject affords only a surface-level overview of each artist’s entire oeuvre, presented in disjointed chapters without a common thread. and I didn’t jive with the jargon-laden, overly-referential, syntactically complex writing style either

[Dan · Rating 4 out of 5]

My thanks to NetGalley and Viking Penguin for an advance copy of this book that is a history of music, a history of a time, and history of people coming together, finding each other, reassuring each other that they were good, worth being sung to, worth being celebrated, and worth living, no matter what society told them.

As a white, straight male growing up in the suburbs I had it a lot easier than most. As a pudgy, myopic, nerd with little interest in things that people in the suburbs cared about, well there were some problems. I had my books and my music to get me through, which gave me an appreciation of both the arts, and for not judging others by the standards of the masses. For others these kind of feelings don't change after high school. They continue in the real world, where just being who you are seems to many to be a crime. Art offers comfort, solace, even an identity. A song might make one know there are others, born this way and that one is not alone. And even make the most timid of people shake their bodies in ways they never thought they could. Mighty Real: History of LGBTQ Music, 1969-2000 by writer and critic Barry Walters is a look at the music that allowed people on the dance floor, in the shower, in their car, on their headphones, know they were seen, that there were others like them, even when the world was getting darker, and meaner.

The book is a mix of memoir, biography of musicians, history of movements and scenes, and a lot of information and music interpretation of songs that I thought I knew. Walters discusses his own life, growing up in upstate New York, which can be a isolated and small place, especially back then. Walters talks about how music helped him, making him move to the big city, and work on various publications, and about his later coming out. From there we start to look at music in chronological order. The chapters are broken down into profiles of various musicians, some famous and expected, some unfairly forgotten. Walters also looks at movements, representation in songs of Motown, the creation of a lesbian record label. Even a gay man singing of his life in country music. Walters looks at songs, pointing out things that were coded for certain audiences, things that might go over some people's heads, but to those who knew or needed something, were there. Walters also discusses the AIDS era, the changes to music, and the scene, and how some songs became more than just something to dance too, but a celebration of those who passed too early.

I really enjoyed this book. The writing is really quite good, and I learned a lot about music and songs that I never knew, nor would probably have found on my own. In addition to the music, I liked the history lessons that Walters talks about, some things I should know, but do not, and again many things I just missed out of my own ignorance. Walters is a very good writer, able to keep the narrative moving, and even when talking about musicians, like say Bowie that much is known, Walters also finds something new, a bit that really makes one appreciate all the music in much different way.

A really fascinating book, one that I learned quite a bit from. Music fans will learn a lot, as well as people interested in this era of America, the people and its times. A book that makes one sad in many ways, for the people who passed to early, those that still don't like who they are. Music is a wonderful thing, capable of so much. No matter how music companies try to control it, monetize it, or even ruin it, real songs still get out. And make us all the better for it. I look forward to reading more by Barry Walters.

[Jesse · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bought at the Barnes & Noble in Corte Madera. Picking up the boy there, and they had a buy-one-HC, get-one-50%-off (can you include a comma in a compound adjective?) deal, which, nerd that I am, still feels enticing--remember when I was in grad school and tried to find any new book on the used shelves at Moe's, since I knew I couldn't afford it. Buying a hardcover was basically out of reach, like a once-a-year treat. Big spender over here.

A heartfelt and emotionally harrowed voyage that is as much dispersed autobiography as critical study. It's rich in aperçus and smart readings, structured as a series of essays of varying lengths about artists and sometimes genres who were out, proto-out, allies, pioneers, heroes. There are extended considerations of Michael Jackson, and Bob Mould, and REM, and George Michael, and Whitney Houston, and Madonna in particular, with some really short bits (like two pages) on, say Nirvana's anti-macho. (Lots of who you'd expect, but also a Rob Halford chapter, and Joan Jett, and a bunch of really sharp stuff on 80s synthpop.) Walters's readings are threaded with autobiography and personal history--this is also a history of queer criticism, and the dance of author and subject when they both know when the love that dare not speak its name has, um, become the elephant in the room, to destroy the notion of good metaphors altogether. He talks about interviewing Madonna and getting her to be human, maybe because his friend has come along, and running into a whole...thing with Whitney and Bobby. And negotiating with Bob Mould, and Melissa Ethridge, who says that she knows what he wants to ask and wants to tell him, but she can't right now. And getting hung up on by Queen Latifah. And not writing Luther Vandross's bio because it was going to lie. As both practitioner of criticism and dancer at NYC and then SF clubs in the 70s and 80s, Walters was continually there, and this book is as concerned with space and history and feeling as with sound--which songs got played when, how the crowd reacted, how what was going on with the community manifested itself in what people wanted to hear and how they wanted it to register presence and belonging.

Still, the heart of the book is the sustained queer readings of these artists and songs, and for me at least, Walters continuously unearthed new angles of vision and hearing on music I know well and music I know more glancingly. He's wonderful at nuances of sound and phrasing, and alert to all the coded ways a lyric might say something about being or feeling or the closet, even when it's something
like Bronski Beat's "Smalltown Boy," which you figure you can pretty much figure out. Some of the best writing here is about, say, Bronski Beat, or Yaz, or Erasure, or Depeche Mode, or the Pet Shop Boys--the kind of music you figure is a slam dunk for a book like this, but even so, he keeps surprising. Maybe the most unexpected, for my money, is what he does with George Michael, for whom he has an enormous amount of compassion and admiration, and he finds meanings in songs I clearly had not listened to as carefully as I could have.

It's also a very sad book, replete with stories of what he suffered at home, and as a young man in the city, and then as AIDS ravaged his world, and of the people he loved, platonically or romantically. In that sense, given his multifarious references to shame and pain and fear and this sense that you are always one step from persecution, I'm curious how someone who's 20 would approach this book and whether its viewpoint would seem archaic.

The maybe not surprising hero, especially in view of the title: Sylvester, early and late, with RuPaul as inheritor and historian/preservationist/popularizer. (Lovely moment in the last chapter where Walters is speaking at an academic Sylvester panel and is cheered to see Ru in the crowd.) Surprise hidden villain: Bob Christgau, whose mistaken takes on ABBA, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, and Bob Mould solo, in writing and in person, Walters takes to task for implicit homophobia and lack of sensitivity.

[Robert G · Rating 4 out of 5]

I started following Barry Walters’ music writing career soon after he started writing for the Village Voice in 1984 and followed him forwards to The Advocate and Entertainment Weekly, so I was excited when I saw advance notice of this new book chronicling roughly 50 years of LGBTQIA music. But I think the title is a bit of a misnomer, as it’s more of a personal look at the music created by LGBTQIA musicians and music (whether or not it was by queer musicians) that queer listeners claimed as their own.

In a way, Walters’ book reminds me a lot of Matt Baume’s terrific television history, “Hi, Honey, I’m Homo: Sitcoms, Specials and the Queering of American Culture.” That book is not really a television history, per se, but rather uses television shows to wrap his arms around the history of the gay community. Another similar book, Questlove’s “Hip Hop is History,” uses hip hop to track the history of the culture and times in which it came into being.

Walters admits in the prologue that he left out many LGBTQIA artists he wanted to include and others LGBTQIA readers/listeners would miss as well, but I think some omissions are glaring. I was gobsmacked to find virtually no mention of Jobriath, Ani DiFranco, Scissor Sisters, Tegan & Sara, Linda Perry, Extra Fancy, Placebo (two out band members), Darren Hayes (who literally released an album entitled “Homosexual”), Adam Lambert, or Sam Smith, as well as virtually nothing on boy bands, and particularly out boy band members like Lance Bass, Jonathan Knight, Stephen Gately, and Olly Alexander. But at nearly 500 pages, I see why cuts had to be made. I would have subtracted a few of the unnecessary straight musicians (Gary Numan, Tina Turner, Bonnie Raitt, Grease and Olivia Newton John, New Order, Depeche Mode, Duran Duran). But it’s Barry’s book and if you love music, especially music with queer appeal, there’s lots to savor here.

[Andrew Hickey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mighty Real-A History of LGBTQ music 1969-2000

Beginning with the Velvet Underground and winding through music and pop culture history ending with RuPaul, Walter’s exploration of music history, blended with memoir, biography and real life interviews, sheds light on queer people have been a part of music post-Stonewall. Each section highlights a specific artist or movement in modern music history exploring a wide range from disco, punk, rock, and folk.

As stated by Walters, not every artist discussed is explicitly queer, yet he does the work to show how they paved the way for others to be seen and heard. While some artists are a given like Madonna, Sylvester and Bowie it’s nice to see a carefully crafted list feature lesser known artists like Wendy Carlos, Phranc, and Lavender Country discussed alongside them written in a way that shows deep appreciation for the paths forged by these people. Controversial figures are also presented neutrally with the good highlighted along with the bad. Walters does a great job showing how contradictory figures like Prince and Donna Summers still hold a spot in the pantheon of queer artists.

Walters writing is also accessible to those who have not be as in the he know about music as well as going deep and analytical to appeal to those who are. A love letter to the artists that have shaped the lives of many queer people over the years as well as to the chosen family and friends who didn’t make it through the AIDS epidemic Mighty Real may just become required reading for queer people.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for a free eARC for review purposes.

[Glen Helfand · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reading Mighty Real you get the sense that ALL pop music of the late 20th century was queer. There is so much, and Walters treats it encyclopedically, with entries on so many artists. It's very much my own coming of age era, so the book served as a memory trigger, as well as augmenting my awareness of lyrics and factoids about different artists. It had me rewatching MTV video staples that I hadn't seen in years (Eurythmics! Madonna! Pet Shop Boys [who seem like PBS when noted as PSB]), and dusting off, digitally, songs by those same artists. It serves as a good reminder of where we have been, and the ebbs and flows of LGBTQ representation, particularly at this moment in history. Walters is a longtime music journalist and critic, and he includes autobiographical information about his own youth and experiences interviewing some pop music superstars-- Madonna, Whitney Houston, who were polar opposites in terms of openness). In the same way that some entries are longer than others (The Smiths/Morrissey being on the lengthier side-- most are just three or four pages), there is an inconsistency in tone. It could have been interesting to lean in and frame the book as a memoir of a music critic, which it sometimes is. And why does it stop in the year 2000? Minor concerns, but the nibble at the edges.

[Harry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to NetGalley and Viking Penguin for eARC of this book.

This was a fantastic collection (dare I say, a carfeully, curated playlist) of artists known and lesser-known, walking through various genres and decades of music. There were, obviously, some names I've heard of and am a fan of, but there were also so "deep cuts" and new styles and artists I'd yet to know but am curious to check out. Of course, Barry Walters can't get into every single artist's/group's life/lives or their entire catalogue, but what he has presented is a great introduction, shall we say, to pique your interest and get you to start looking for some new favorites.

Being a gay man, growing up in a smaller town, I wasn't exposed to as much queer music as I would have liked. It wasn't until I moved to a "gayer" city, San Francisco, that I discovered some of the names listed within this book. I say all of this as a way to demonstrate that I think this book serves not only those who grew up with this music, but for those of us who weren't shown these greats and gives me inspiration to listen to all of these artists and understand, and respect, those that came before.

[TJ Edmund · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Mighty Real" is the kind of book that makes you want to immediately revisit every song, artist, and moment it explores. Barry Walters doesn’t just tell the history of LGBTQ+ music — he shows how deeply queer artists and audiences have shaped the soundtrack of our culture.

I absolutely loved how this book balances music history with personal storytelling. Walters writes with so much passion and knowledge, making every chapter feel like a celebration of the artists who challenged expectations, created community, and gave people a sense of belonging when they needed it most.

What stood out to me most was the reminder that queer music history has always been there — sometimes hidden in plain sight — and that so many artists helped create spaces where LGBTQ+ people could see themselves, hear themselves, and feel understood. This book made me appreciate so many songs and performers in a completely new way.

It’s informative, emotional, and full of joy while still honoring the struggles behind the music. A beautiful tribute to the artists who changed music forever and the communities who found freedom in their songs.

Five stars. I could not recommend this enough.

[David Ivany · Rating 5 out of 5]

For goodreads: 5 stars. Mad respect for writing a history of LGBTQ music and what it has meant to us through the years.
Personally, 3 stars.
It was a good overview of queer and queer coded music of the period, but Walters used lgbtq when Gay is more accurate to what is being expressed. This comes from relying on a queer universal experience that felt very outside of my experiences of being a queer in the music scene and felt trapped in a unifying queer 80s/90s that I didn't really experience. The sections around trans artists were slim and saying that rupaul has put out songs challenging transphobia is... questionable. Also, the bi/pan erasure of a quick bit on Miley Cyrus saying she "married a man, and still calls herself queer". This was framed positively, as a progression of how artists can identify now, the phrasing is not great.
Also, I disagree with his interpretation of Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others, which was written as a slap in the face to Johnny Marr's fantastic instrumentation.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is brilliant, I'd give it ten or twenty or a hundred stars if Goodreads made that an option. The author knows his stuff and writes beautifully (and concisely, which is why the book is only 423 pages long, instead of a few thousand), and it is a document for the ages. The format allows you to dip in and out as you wish, but in whatever order you read, I encourage you to read it all, so you don't miss out on any of the riches shared in these pages. What makes the book so powerful is that is lived history: The author tells his story as well as the many stories of all these great musicians and their wonderful music. The beauty of weaving his story into the larger story means that even if someone reads this book decades from now and has no idea what it was like to hear this music when it was new, they will still get a sense of that from the book.
I'm going to stop here for now, but I will likely come back to add more later, as I re-read the book and pick out favorite parts to highlight. Right now I'm in love with it as a whole, so picking out samples will have to wait.

[Martin Maenza · Rating 4 out of 5]

Viking Penguin provided an early galley for review.

As a big music fan of all genres, this book was something definitely had to check out. While I knew it would cover familiar ground, I was hoping to learn some new things too.

And right out of the gate, I did. The chapter on Laura Nyro was a revelation for me. I knew many songs that she penned that other artists made famous, but this book sent me on a journey to discover her recordings as well.

I appreciated the insights that Walters brings to the topic, pulling from interviews he personally conducted with several of the artists discussed. I also like how it is structured with chapters focusing on artists primarily in order of when they debuted or hit career milestones. Finally, the discography at the end is a great resource for quick reference to all the music discussed in the earlier chapters.

[Lauren · Rating 4 out of 5]

A comprehensive history of LGBTQ music post-Stonewall, covering musicians who were queer themselves or those who weren't but their music resonated with the LGBTQ community at the time. I appreciated the personal insights from the author and think he's extremely qualified to write this book.

My usual problem with a lot of music history and analysis books is that they can get formulaic, and some chapters were much shorter and felt abrupt. I preferred the chapters about more general overarching themes like Olivia Records and the gay disco scene, or longer in-depth chapters about artists like Madonna.

This took me a bit to get through but I did learn a lot. Who knew so much of my dad's music taste is kinda gay! Shoutout. Thank you to Viking Penguin and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[Amanda W · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thought this was a very interesting story of both LGBTQ music (both intentional and unintentional) and how Walters's life sort of revolved around his love of music. I thought his personal touches really made certain chapters pop, and they were very appreciated. I do think certain parts tended to drag on a bit, and sometimes it got confusing with just how many different bands and songs Walters crammed into some chapters, but overall, it was a comprehensive and interesting history of the music that shaped the lives of many readers.

Thanks to NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book!

[Blane · Rating 2 out of 5]

Barry Walters is a decent music/pop culture critic. But, he puts way too much of himself in this "history" of LGBTQ music; I really don't care that he possesses this or that signed rare white label 12" pressing by a certain gay icon or that he was present at this or that historic show. It was all just too braggadocious and precious.

And (strangely--considering his "closeness" to the subject), most of the profiles come across as sterile...even boring...like a Wikipedia listing of easily accessible facts about the artist in question. There are other similar works out there, which are much more engaging. The audio version was 21 very long hours.

[Mike · Rating 4 out of 5]

Solid and pretty comprehensive compendium of essays on queer, queer-coded, or queer-friendly artists, with an occasional personal anecdote to highlight how the artists or their work were important to the queer community. This would be of particular value to millennial and younger queer music fans whose primary musical focus began with Britney Spears, especially given the range of artists and genres represented here. One minor criticism: Walters isn't the smoothest audiobook narrator -- to my ears, anyway -- so maybe pick up the physical book for this title.

[Shayla Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 rating! Wow, that was a lot of artists that had a huge impact on the LGBTQIA+ community! Barry Walters, as a member of said community, did an amazing job detailing a whos who of artists that were so impactful. I knew most of these artists on the list and I was very surprised to find out so many signs in their music and lyrics that pointed to LGBTQIA+ meanings! I like also that Walters was able to weave in his own story as a gay man and what these artists meant and mean to him still. Well done!

[Jeff Elder · Rating 5 out of 5]

I wasn't sure what I was getting into when I bought this audiobook. Music histories can be hit or miss, and I wasn't exactly looking forward to how long it was. Well, I was wrong on both counts. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It hit right in my musical sweet spot — and while I was familiar with all the acts mentioned, there was a lot I didn't know about the details behind the stories. As for the length, it never feels drawn out. In fact, when it was over I kind of wished it had kept going. If you're gay and a fan of music, I highly recommend this one. Great job, Barry!

[Jasmine Shouse · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really informative look at queer musicians and musicians who influenced queer culture spanning decades. I learned some things, even about musicians I already loved. 

Queer-coded music has been here for over half a century. It's only getting stronger from here. 

Thank you to Viking for the opportunity to read and review. 

[Jacob Schermerhorn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Got to read it before doing an interview Q&A event with Barry which was pretty cool. I admire how it juggles back and forth between history, musical analysis, and personal memoir.

[jenna gordeaux · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fun & Informative!!

[via noel · Rating 4 out of 5]

i genuinely was not expecting to learn as much as i did from this book! i’m really glad i took the time to read it

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not perfect but deeply personal and knowledge.

[Venneh · Rating 4 out of 5]

We get a great musical history about thirty one years or so of musical artists who have queer relevance, whether it's through their songs being loved by the queer community, or the artist's own queer aspects. The author is one of the first out music critics, but the overview ends roughly twenty six years ago, and I would love to see something like this done for 2000 forward. Great Pride month read.

[K · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was an interesting look at the history of sexual minority musicians and music in the late twentieth century. I liked that it covered a wide range of artists and genres, and it would be a great choice for any music lover.

There was a bit too much personal commentary and information about the author, and I would've preferred if it was less US-centric. I also didn't like that the author applied 'queer' to people who may not identify that way, especially when discussing people from different eras or with different personal preferences.