An Ode to Kim Petras: Why America Needs More Trans Pop Stars Right Now

The power of trans voices in shaping society’s perception

1 Kim Petras 9 credit Renee Dominguez for Getty Images — Kim Petras. Photo: Renee Dominguez for Getty Images

Published: March 17, 2025 | Last Updated: March 17, 2025

I was once putting my new sex playlist to the test when my hookup paused to point out that it was exclusively Kim Petras. I clarified that it was Kim Petras' 2022 “Slut Pop” album, which, looking back, might have been excessive to let repeat three times. But again, I was preoccupied, which is beside the point.

“I didn’t know she made so much sex music,” the guy said.

In reality, it was an album celebrating sex, which is why I chose it. But she made a spectrum of pop. “Slut Pop” is immaculate for what it’s meant to be, at least if you’re not easily offended by raunchy language. If any radical conservative heard this album, with tracks like “Throat Goat,” “Treat Me Like a Slut” and “They Wanna Fuck,” they might argue their worst fears about transness are true.

Ironically, I think it’s one of the greatest albums of all time — at least within its niche for humans who admit to being horny. Petras owns her sexual agency and delivers bangers; she doesn’t care if you clutch your pearls. She has never held back her vision as an artist, external transphobia be damned.

Right now, America feels far from being ready to embrace a sex-positive trans artist the way it did for Lil Nas X and Cardi B. It took a long time for gay men and straight women to be able to sing about sex the same way straight male rappers have for centuries. Petras is a legend for making such a big name for herself without a filter. And I think despite the nation taking three steps back on its march to equality, music can help bridge the dots of connection.

For this reason, the industry needs more trans pop stars. I don’t need to preach to the choir about what’s happening in the country. However, while it’s scary for the entire LGBTQ+ community and our allies, it’s hard to deny that trans people seem to be holding a majority stake in the hate. I believe music and fandom are transcendent enough to make people care about another identity, even as the U.S. government sets equality ablaze.

More trans artists are necessary in the same way an artist like Chappell Roan has made it impossible for most people to claim they don’t like at least one lesbian. Music doesn’t need a social agenda to make a positive social impact.

It’s hard to deny the mountains people will move for a celebrity they like, and resonating with a trans artist’s music could be the first step toward allyship. Just look at history: In the 1950s and ’60s, Tom of Finland used illustrations of erect, leather-clad men to normalize gayness in the art world during a time when it was illegal, and in the 1980s, Keith Haring embedded political messages in his paintings to spread awareness about AIDS when the government ignored it. Lil Nas X’s “Montero” and Cardi B’s “WAP” can serve as modern musical examples of normalizing sexuality through shock value.

Of course, this isn’t to say Petras hasn’t belted out pop hits without the horn (my favorite is “Icy”). But if she had feared her sexuality, she wouldn’t have been the first trans woman to win a Grammy for “Unholy” with Sam Smith. She’s not a conventional artist, and that has nothing — and perhaps everything — to do with her being trans. Her discography is bonkers. As a gay man, I might not see myself in the details of a trans woman’s struggle, but we dance to the same beat. Her songs don’t manifest as anthems of transness but of power.

While I have friends who liberate themselves from gender norms in fashion and embrace a nonbinary way of showing up, I don’t have anyone close to me who is trans. That’s why I find it shocking that Republicans have tried to scapegoat all of the country’s problems on less than 2% of the population. Or maybe the scarcity of trans people to defend themselves is what they’re counting on.

I applaud Petras for being the baddest trans artist to ever do it, even if her success may have provided ammunition for the current wave of hateful rhetoric. Still, just as family values didn’t go up in smoke when Cardi B sang about her lubricated vagina, Petras has helped show us that trans joy in all its raunchiness won’t blow up the patriarchy.

More trans artists are necessary in the same way an artist like Chappell Roan has made it impossible for most people to claim they don’t like at least one lesbian. Music doesn’t need a social agenda to make a positive social impact. Roan compared her signature makeup look to clown makeup because bullies used to call queer people clowns at her high school. And yet, her stardom doesn’t feel burdened by her sexuality, and the widespread discourse surrounding her celebrates a young musical talent.

In many ways, Roan’s story indicates how far we’ve come: the world’s most prominent female pop star sings about getting eaten out by another woman in the back of a car in “Casual,” and it didn’t even steal a sliver of attention from her music. But that’s largely thanks to a history of queer artists willing to make their love lives press talking points, including Petras slowly but surely clawing her way up a landslide of prejudice, leaving a trail for trans pop artists behind her.

To me, fighting for trans rights is the last frontier for queer rights, and Congress is not the only place where the seeds of change can be planted. Permeating someone’s Spotify playlist can have lasting ripple effects. So, yes, this is a love letter to Petras for being iconic. But let it also serve as an invitation for trans artists to use their talent to erase the distance separating humanity.