It's hard to believe there was a time when pop stars hid their homosexuality. Ultimately icons for the community, Elton John and George Michael played it straight for years. Camp Freddy was indeed mercurial, slipping the topic for years yet writing songs for his soulmate, a woman.
Today's Insta-kids don't have to engage in second-guessing or signal-searching when they have young popsters like Troye Sivan coming out loud and proud on their own YouTube channel (as you do in the 21st century).
Sivan brought his brand of synth-pop to Muang Thong Thani last Wednesday night and it was heartening to see the kids gathered there, milling about with rainbow ribbons and flags. They were out for the night, and they seemed pretty proud.
All shapes and sizes, their gender unknown, as was their sexuality. But they were all there to have some fun with the boy Troye.
With a somewhat dramatic entrance under a spotlight, Sivan went straight into 17, from his second album Bloom, also the name of the tour. And straight away, an ecstatic crowd claimed him as their own, singing and dancing, waving flags.
Sivan's studio sound translates well to the stage with a tight and polished trio of keyboards, guitar and drums. At times fun, sexual, often melancholic verses were matched with big, soaring power-chord choruses. It was poptastic stuff that bounced along in four-minute slices of youthful confession -- although if you read the lyrics to 17, you may well wonder when there'll be an R. Kelly-style "age ain't nothing but a number" moment within the gay community.
After a few songs, Sivan slowed things down and engaged the crowd -- and here was the real revelation of the night: the audience may have claimed him as their own, but through his sincerity and honesty, he claimed them as his.
He told them there was "big queer energy in this hall". Cue crazy cheering and flag waving. Everyone felt a part of some symbiotic relationship. (But I'm pretty sure he was talking to me personally. I'd been on the beer till 6am watching Liverpool thrash Barcelona 4-0. Come showtime I was feeling decidedly queer.) Later, he got a couple of young girls to teach him thank you in Thai. He duly repeated: "Kob khun kraap", and everyone screamed. Everyone loved him. After that, another girl gave him a pair of muay Thai shorts. Again, the crowd lapped it up.
This intimacy was reflected in the stage design, with a central riser featuring a sofa and some standard lamps (think Talking Heads' This Must Be The Place). From here Sivan sat and chatted with the crowd about his inspirations; he lay down, singing a love song. It was a pretty cool touch, making differences and yearning an everyday relatable thing. Which of course they are, eventually.
Closing the show there was more chat, very post-ironic, explaining he was doing one more song, to great groans, then admitting that was a lie, to great cheers. When he left the stage, everyone was to shout and scream, thus "validating" him as a real pop star, ensuring two more songs. And his humour and sincerity was again embraced. And it was fun.
But God help us when we get post-post-ironic.
Sivan -- his youth, looks and sexuality -- seems to have something that appeals to everyone, from Western beardy bears who look like they can recall Soft Cell to young girly girls who think 1997 is, like, olden days. In fact, a teenage girl near me was positively hysterical at certain times during the show.
I channelled my inner bitch and pointed out Sivan was probably more into me than her. She replied: "Naah. I don't think fat old guys are his thing."
Ouch! Burn baby burn. Lesson learned.
