By Christopher Treacy
Bitch
8 p.m. May 30
Ferndale Pride Main Stage
http://ferndalepride.com
It's hard to believe that it's been a full 20 years since Bitch and Animal first descended upon indie music audiences with their folksy queercore, a term that matches more in attitude than in sound.
After three discs with "Animal" Prufrock, Bitch (aka Karen Mould) went her own way, expanding beyond the scope of the duo's sound into something even more eclectic, making better use of her skills on bass, ukulele, keytar (!) and her signature electric violin.
Her latest project, entitled "BEACH," is yet another departure – a foray into electronic dance-pop, which she's sure to touch on during her upcoming appearance at 8 p.m. May 30 on the Ferndale Pride Main Stage.
"I changed my writing process for the 'BEACH' material, and when it started coming together, it was such a departure from my previous work that I decided to name it 'BEACH,'" she explains during a recent chat. "'BEACH' is an open, expansive feeling, and the songs match that in that they are more dance-y, more inclusive than my older stuff. It feels like everything shifted, from touring with a live drummer to using electronice beats; from writing for just my voice, to writing for the whole group to join in; from thinking about 'I' to thinking about 'we.'
"Plus, I moved to Los Angeles in the middle of writing it, and it felt like everything I was moving toward – the 'BEACH,' the shifting of coastlines, the waves, the fun of that. "
One thing that hasn't changed is her gift for biting, clever, socio-political wordplay. It's likely what originally attracted Ani DiFranco to the music of Bitch and Animal, resulting in an invitation to open shows for the Righteous Babe in the mid and later 1990s… an especially coveted gig since DiFranco's star was rising rapidly at that time. It helped introduce Bitch's work to an audience that would know how to contextualize it, since, well, it's hard to know what to expect from a gal that names herself Bitch.
"Ultimately, I think it speaks to the heartiness and strength of the personality of my fans," she says. "It's amazing how many times you hear the word 'bitch' used very casually in our society. But then hearing a woman identify that way is a little too much power for comfort – or something. Naming myself Bitch – a decision I made in my 20s – is definitely a polarizing choice. I would only hope that all 20-somethings are taking such big risks with their art."
Obviously they're not, but Bitch can take comfort in the ongoing display of affection from folks that can appreciate her talent and poignant worldview: her last three projects, 'BEACH' included, have been funded via successful Kickstarter campaigns.
Bitch hails from the Motor City, so celebrating Pride with a Ferndale appearance seems entirely appropriate. Unlike any number of LGBTQ artists and supporters that have grown wary of the annual celebration, she sees it as a more necessary outlet than ever, especially as a means of unifying Michigan's gay populous.
"The concept of Pride is about self-love," she says. "Human beings and all creatures need pride like we need water. As an event, it's a chance to come and celebrate all of our out-of-the-boxness.
"Being from the suburbs of Detroit, I was lucky to have parents who took me into the city to see plays, go to the DIA," she continues. "It's such an important city with so much cultural significance that it must rise again from the corruption and poverty that has plagued it."
Bitch says she feels like we're reaching a monumental intersection in our culture. She sees now as a time when, despite our differences, we need to show up for one another.
"We're part of a huge change in our society. People are literally coming out about things they have never, throughout time, been able to come out about. So it's a very important step in our expansion to allow people to claim space that they have never been able to before. I say, the more the merrier…"
In an odd twist of fate that perhaps best exemplifies her ongoing mission, Bitch's music is entangled with that of a metal band's with the same name on Spotify (and likely elsewhere online as well). With song titles like "Hot and Heavy," "Fist to Face" and "Be My Slave," it's a curious juxtaposition. The metal band was persecuted by Tipper Gore and the P.M.R.C. back in the '80s and early '90s, and while front-gal Betsy Bitch definitely was wielding her sexuality for effect, the intention was coming from a decidedly different space.
But this Bitch seems not to care.
"I don't really know their songs, although we know each other because of this mix-up," she says. "Women are always judged and held through a lens of more scrutiny – like there are only a certain amount of roles we can fill. Maybe one day Bitch will be a tribe!"
One can only hope.
