Met Gala 2021—a celebrity in a slinky black Altuzarra gown shows up on the red carpet that Monday in May. This might not seem revolutionary, but for some of us Gen Z still coming to terms with our existence and queerness, it was a moment, the celebrity sporting the dress was, in fact, a boy.
It takes courage to be soft in a world that worships machismo and the queer world is no stranger to that. From “no femme” labels on dating apps to snide remarks from peers about not having the right amount of bicep, the queer man is constantly bombarded with pressure to fit in to stand out. There is a certain glory in being silent and mysterious and then in comes Troye with his songs: loud yet gentle, vivid and proudly reflective.
From the raw and dreamy In A Dream, which talks about gut-wrenching breakups, to the yearning-filled Blue Neighbourhood, to even Something To Give Each Other which might seem hypersexual at first glance but holds songs about taking your love home to meet your parents, every one of Troye’s projects has a common denominator: vulnerability.
There’s a joy in the legend of this Troye, his unassuming beginnings on early YouTube, and his slow climb to global fame. The word on a lot of queer men’s lips circa 2019 was: “How isn’t he as big as he should be?” Hits like Youth, My My My!, and Happy Little Pill deserved so much more. So imagine the collective joy when Rush topped charts, when it started playing in the club and my straight brother said, “I love this song.” I felt a cheer from queers everywhere.
We need more mainstream out-and-proud musicians, and Troye is worth celebrating. In a world where aloofness and hardened masculinity are constantly paraded as ideal, cue the dudebro podcasters, lyrics like “God, I wish it were you” need to be heard, felt, and danced to. From early in his discography, Troye made a distinct choice to lay emotions bare. In Running Shoes, he sings about how the shoes weigh him down, how he feels used and worn out when people leave him once he’s no longer "any use" to them. There’s a certain kind of bravery in that kind of emotional honesty, and Troye marches on.
The world needs pop. The world needs queerness. The world needs vulnerability. And the world needs Troye. So, happy birthday, Troye, your art has gotten me through so much. Please continue serenading all of us with your beautiful music.