CALEB DE CASPER: DARK POP & DARK POLITICS

photography by Jade Jaramillo

Caleb De Casper, 31, sits down with Glaze for an intimate discussion about his art and activism. The interview was conducted inside his home and creative space. 

Give us an introduction. What brought you to Austin?

I'm Caleb De Casper, and I write dark pop music. I'm just an artist all the way around. It's a lifestyle. I came to Austin because where I am from, in North Carolina, it was really hard to carve out a place there as a queer artist, at that time especially. It was hard everywhere to be a queer artist at that time. Things have dramatically changed since I first started my career.

I moved to New York ten years ago when I was 21, and I realized New York is really fun, but I don't see a vibrant music community there. And so it just was not the right time, even though I dreamed about living in New York and doing that, being that person. When I went back to North Carolina to reassess, I played a show with a band from Austin, and they were like, “You should move to Austin. That's your vibe. You're queer, you're rock and roll. You're just very hard. People would get it.”

So I did. And it was very fast.

From what I’ve read, that's really when things kind of blew up for you.

Yeah. 

And how did Austin influence your music, and has your music changed at all since you've been here?

Yeah. My music has changed so much. One of my favorite things that I see about myself is that I’m known for various styles. My music is known for various genres. If I feel something, I do something, right? And I love all kinds of music. So right now, I'm in a disco-dark wave era.

You know, more like dark pop. But before this, it was glam punk and glam rock. And then before that, it was piano cabaret and musical theater. I just like to shift all the time.

All right, so tell us about your stage show. What inspires you in your performances and how have you pushed the boundaries in your artistic expression?

My stage show is my favorite thing. I love a production. I love costumes. I love assembling a team of talent and then everyone being able to use me to show off their talent.

The makeup, the clothes, the set pieces, the dancing, the band, and the visuals that go on behind. I love putting on a show. Even if it's scaled down, I still love incorporating some kind of performance art, like making myself into an idea for people. And one of my favorite things is just wearing other people's clothes. I find people's brains that make clothes so fascinating. 

You are a fixture in the Austin LGBTQ+ community. How have you worked to make the music scene and the Austin community more inclusive?

When I first came here, there was not a whole lot of queer music. There were drag queens and there were, you know, queer people making art. Christeene would play parties and big events. Christeene was big – she still is – love her.

But in the music scene, there weren't a lot of people being queer for their art. And so I pushed the boundaries on that, and brought that to the culture at the time. 

You realize there's no space like you made space for yourself. And now there are other people that you could help make space for, so you try to do that with all the things that you do. You try to incorporate other people's dreams into what you're doing.

I would say the biggest thing that I've done recently would be fighting back against the state. The state of Texas is a perfect example of what's wrong in the world right now, where they pick people to use as a scapegoat and then promote that over actually fixing things for people. Because if you fix things for people, that means you have to take money out of the budget, and they don't want to do that. 

So they decided, let's all pick on the trans drag queen queer people this time, so that nobody realizes that our attorney general is a criminal – like legit a criminal. Or when I did my work just fighting back using my voice, using my art, I learned that our governor had aspirations to be in a potential cabinet position, and that's why he was using drag queens as an excuse, like, “Look at me look at how hard I am.”

And so that's in my work. I'm trying to connect that to my music and be more meaningful, and just reach people in that way.

OH SHIT, THIS IS MY JOB NOW.

That’s a good segue into everyone's favorite topic, politics. Not only are you an artist but an activist for queer rights. How did you get involved in politics in the first place?

I literally posted something on social media and it went kind of viral. I was like, “Oh shit, this is my job now.” Because I hate politics, and being queer you just kind of have to be political because you have to know what's going on, unfortunately.

I just posted something, and then people started to ask me questions and engage with me, and I felt a responsibility to give them the most accurate information that I could. I posted just like that the state had a bill that was attacking drag queens and it was outrageous. Like can you believe that we're actually spending time doing this when the lights got cut off a couple of years ago?

I just posted that, and people were like, “What? I had no idea. I had absolutely no idea.” Then I would go and spend as much time as I could at the Capitol and learn about the process and about the backroom things and try to be a mouthpiece, really. So I had people asking me questions.

Tell us about your experience speaking on the Texas House floor and speaking out against the anti-drag legislation.

It was very theatrical. I was like, “I know who you bitches are. Like, I see you. I understand what this is.” When you look these people in the face, mostly men, look them in the face and they think they're so intimidating and they squint at you. And they're doing all the things theatrically to be intimidating to you. It's the wildest thing.

I talked to some lobbyists and I found out basically that lawmakers know what they're going to do before they get there, and then they just act like they're doing their job.

The best thing that you can do is to watch them, because they don't expect to be watched by anybody.

MY BRAND OF ARTISTRY RIGHT NOW, ESPECIALLY, IS TO CRITICIZE AND SHOW YOU WHAT I’VE LEARNED.

With legislation that overtly attacks the queer community, Texas isn't the most hospitable place politically. How are you coping with that?

I don't think about it. Maybe it's just disassociation, but I have a job to do where I'm an artist, and I see that role is like, yeah, I'm here to create a world for you to like exist in and have fun.

But my brand of artistry right now, especially, is to criticize and show you what I've learned, so that you can view things from all kinds of perspectives, because Texas is not an outlier.

Texas is following a blueprint, and I think our biggest issue that we're going to have to face in the next decade is that so many people are not going to live in reality anymore. We're going to live in a fabricated version where people would not be on the same page about what facts, opinions, or lies are. So my job as an artist is to keep the focus.

TEXAS IS NOT AN OUTLIER. TEXAS IS FOLLOWING A BLUEPRINT.

So your music is taking a new direction with your latest single. What spurred this evolution?

Everything we've been talking about. Easy answer. I also got a new producer that I'm just having a really good creative relationship with, and he's more pop sensible.

Everything I do, I like to write it on the piano, and he takes it and we talk about sounds and then he sends me something back, and I'm like, “Yes, that sounds just like the Italian disco that I wanted.”

Tell us what your new single is about.

My new single “Sik Culture” started because I'm just sick of Grindr; it's very transactional.

It's very much like a formula. I speak to other people and it's like, “I'm bored, let me get on my phone and use someone.” 

I'm very frustrated with the fact that people are losing their ability to connect, and I thought about it more and it's not just Grindr, it’s everywhere.

It's hard to find people who know how to build a relationship with other people now. So it's a sick culture. I think we're going to have to heal.

What is next for you in the Austin queer community and where can we see you next?

So what I'm up to: I just finished my next single, so that'll be fun. I'm not sure what I want to say about it yet.

OK, that's fair.

I will say it's called “Chemical Blue” and it's about swimming through someone. I'm just gonna keep writing and being in the studio. I'm working every single day on making new things.

All right, last question. How can organizations like Glaze hold ourselves accountable for continuing inclusivity and activism efforts?

I think being open to things, right? I'd say a big thing is, I would love for people to — now   that we've kind of got visibility — and I do I will always exist for you know freedom of expression.

I will always exist for you know the right to an education and I will always exist for queer visibility. No matter how good queer people have it in society, I will always exist to remind people that people are queer.

And I think what I would like to see now though, is people not being labeled as  a queer artists. Just being an artist. It's like, when we listen to Britney Spears, I don't think, “This is a heterosexual artist,” I'm like, “Yes, Britney.”

You know what I mean? So, don't don't put baby in the corner.

By Laura Delarosa