35 Essential LGBTQ Pride Songs

“Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls,” Ray Davies sings on his love song for a trans woman. “It’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook-up world … except for Lola.” Homosexuality had been legal in England for only three years when Davies dreamt up a full story about falling for a trans woman at a Soho club, ostensibly based on stories he heard from others. Lola in the song had a “dark brown voice” and walked like a woman but talked like a man, and she could pick him up and placing him on her knee. In the most suggestive lyric, Davies confides, “I fell to the floor, I got down on my knees/Well, I looked at her, and she at me,” all leading to the revelation “I’m glad I’m a man, and so is Lola.” The song was an improbable mainstream hit, a Number One in the U.S., making it the first hit song with an LGBTQ theme, according to The New York Times. —Kory Grow

Originally performed by Charles “Valentino” Harris in 1975, “I Was Born This Way” is one of the earliest out-and-proud Seventies anthems, a club smash that peaked at number 15 on Billboard’s Disco singles chart. Its dreamy, string-laden production and forthright sentiment may seem archaic now, but it’s reflective of an era when publicly identifying as gay was more fraught – and dangerous. “You laugh at me, and you criticize,” sings Bean in a husky, gospel-inflected voice. “’Cause I’m happy, carefree, and gay.” Bean eventually left the music industry and founded the Unity Fellowship Church in Los Angeles before passing away in 2021. Yet “I Was Born This Way” has influenced artists since its release, including Lady Gaga’s 2011 hit single of the same name.–Mosi Reeves

It’s the Moog-driven song that singlehandedly birthed modern EDM, and debuting in 1977 amid orchestral, vocal-forward disco, the track sounded like a transmission from a distant, sexy planet. More than that, though, the groundbreaking collaboration between Donna Summer, Giorgio Moroder and Pete Bellotte translated, in a brand-new sonic language, the strange, scary ecstasy of erotic desire and fulfillment, and connected the modern dance floor with the sublime; what’s more queer than that? Disco goddess Summer initially needed some convincing. “Giorgio brought me this popcorn track he had recorded,” she later recalled, “and I said, ‘What the hell is this, Giorgio?’” –Justin Ravitz

With all due respect to Prince, Sylvester may have had the most pristine, expressive falsetto in modern popular music. Somewhat reductively called the “Queen of Disco,” the virtuosic, openly gay singer approached gender (in his performative and private lives) as a fluid, non-binary concept in a pre–Judith Butler era. It’s his gospel roots that arguably make his self-penned disco classic a transcendent ode to joy. The outspoken AIDS advocate and fundraiser died from complications of the disease at age 41 in 1988. Nearly 30 years later, his most-remembered track still makes us dance a lot – through a few tears. –J.R.

Although it seems most of Queen’s fans were clueless as to how openly gay and subversive frontman Freddie Mercury was – despite the unabashed swank of his stage presence – he also never really tried to hide it. Queen were on a pretty amazing run by the time their 1978 album Jazz came around; they’d gone from tiny clubs to stadiums, and every single song they released seemed to fly up the charts. “Don’t Stop Me Now,” the lead single from the LP, featuring the group’s trademark multi-tracked harmonies, didn’t quite live up to expectations, peaking at Number 86 in America. It was, however, a Top 10 hit in England. And with lyrics like, “That’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit/I’m trav’ling at the speed of light/I wanna make a supersonic man out of you,” it sounds like the boys are ready to let it all hang out.  –Jerry Porlwood

Like so many great dance records, 1980’s “I’m Coming Out” began with Nile Rodgers and his Le Chic co-founder Bernard Edwards, who were approached by Diana Ross herself to produce new tunes. Rodgers later told the Mail on Sunday that they wrote the track “because of her gay following,” but fibbed a little to a skittish Ross. “A DJ told her [the song] was going to ruin her career — people would think she was gay,” Rodgers said. “It was the only time I’ve ever lied to an artist. I said: ‘What are you talking about? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life!’” The former Supreme now typically opens her shows with the bubbly, empowering track – which found yet another life in the hip-hop pantheon, thanks to a hear-it-in-your-sleep sample on Diddy and Biggie’s “Mo’ Money Mo’ Problems.”   —J.R.

An overlooked one-off from 1981’s The Fox, when Elton was still fumbling through the darkest, most confused period of his career. It’s a quiet piano ballad about growing up gay. The lyrics come from the out-and-proud British punk rocker Tom Robinson, who had a hit of his own with “Glad to be Gay.” The payoff is the tender moment at the end when Elton sings, “I would give my life/For a single night beside you.” Maybe he scared himself with how emotional he could be — it was years before he tried anything this revealing again. —Rob Sheffield

Two amazing facts about this wet, frothy, muscle-bound dream of a dance jam: David Letterman sidekick Paul Shaffer co-wrote it (with Paul Jabara), and none other than Donna Summer passed on recording it. “Lyrically she hated it, because she had become a born-again Christian. She thought it was blasphemous,” Shaffer told Vanity Fair. No matter: Two Tons o’ Fun, rechristened the Weather Girls (featuring multi-decade MVP studio singer Martha Wash), laid it down instead, landing a massive hit that appealed to any man-craving human enduring a dry spell. Hallelujah. —JR

“Smalltown Boy” started as a happy accident, since Bronski Beat initially wanted to cover the Sex Pistols’ “Pretty Vacant.” Unfortunately for them and fortuitously for everyone else, the MC-202 sequencer they were using slowed it down and transformed the music into something desperate and vulnerable. Singer Jimmy Somerville’s falsetto keening and introverted lyrics about running away from a family and town that never understood him and, at times, bullied him, hit listeners on a soul level. “The love that you need will never be found at home,” he sings at one point. The line is coded enough to become a mainstream hit, but explicit enough that anyone who heard Sommerville, who is gay, knew just what he was singing about.Plus, with the “run away, turn away” chorus, and its club-ready beat, it transmits the feeling of rising above adversity and becoming your true self: a message that has transcended decades. —K.G.

Much of Erasure’s discography embodies not precisely celebratory gay pride but gay romantic reality – a frankness about the emotional, if not overtly sexual, lives of gay men toward the end of the 20th century. So when out British duo Andy Bell and Vince Clarke’s plaintive yet buoyant single became a worldwide hit in gay-unfriendly 1988, it felt quietly revolutionary to anyone in the know. Did straight teens in Iowa realize that they were bopping at prom to a “Borderline”-like plea from one vulnerable, smitten man to his cold, withholding boyfriend? The gay teens and tweens, most of them closeted, definitely did. “If you’re doing music, you should use it for something and have substance,” Bell once told Seventeen. “Being gay and open about it is my substance.” –JR

With a small budget of $5,000, Madonna and her then go-to remixer Shep Pettibone banged out this track (originally considered a B side for another single), improvising that movie-star rap last-minute in a basement studio in midtown Manhattan. “She was always a first-take artist,” Pettibone told Billboard in 2015. The result wasn’t just one of the Queen of Pop’s most definitive hits but an improbable connector between Old Hollywood, the late Eighties club scene and Harlem drag balls, finding glamour, subversion, inspiration and self-preservation at the peak of the AIDS epidemic. (Plus, that video! Those men! The dancing!) With this as her springboard, Madonna would later dive head-first into LGBT subcultures via her “Justify My Love” video and, more expansively, in her Sex book and Erotica album. Soul is in the musical. –JR

It would be eight more years until George Michael would come out to the general public, but the gifted, soulful and charismatic former Wham! frontman had long been a white-hot sex symbol, role model and trendsetter for gay men and other LGBTQ individuals across the world. “In terms of my work, I’ve never been reticent in terms of defining my sexuality. I write about my life,” he told CNN in his 1998 coming-out interview. And while later music would directly address his sexuality and his relationships (including the loss of a partner to AIDS), his ageless 1990 single pointed to a radical, transformative honesty not yet ready to be said aloud: “I think there’s something you should know/I think it’s time I told you so/There’s something deep inside of me / There’s someone else I’ve got to be.” The accompanying video — in which the marquee-handsome superstar goes M.I.A. to let supermodels do the lip-syncing, and his cheesy Faith-era leather jacket goes up in flames — remains unmatched. —JR

Expertly layering one funky sample after another, the psychedelic, pansexual trio of Deee-Lite — fronted by a drag-inspired Lady Miss Kier — introduced a vibrant queer club-kid energy and aesthetic to the masses with this orgiastic track and accompanying video. It remains a magnetic gateway for anyone itching to let their freak flag fly.  —JR

These Bay Area gay punk pioneers found a hint of mainstream fame when they toured with Green Day on their Dookie run in 1994, but it was their sexy lyrics and who-gives-a-fuck attitude that endeared them to a generation of queer kids — before that term was even fashionable. It’s difficult to pick one song that defines them — with songs like “Dick of Death,” “Groovy Underwear” or their classic cover of Prince’s “Jack You Off” — but we went with one that seems to defy the idea of a gay “anthem” no matter how you think of it. “One thing that we have is that we’ve always sung about being gay. We’re not just gay and musicians,” Jon Ginoli told Rolling Stone last year before the release of their latest album, Quite Contrary. “We have sung about being gay as a part of the topic within our songs. I think, over time, some of them are less specifically gay than they were at first because it seemed like, when we had the chance that was really what we wanted to sing about and that was really unique.” —J.P.

Etheridge was feeling lonesome on tour, longing for a lover who was slipping away, when she penned this hit that ended up on her brazenly titled breakthrough album, Yes I Am. Little did she know that her cowgirl blues would not only win her the Grammy for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance but would also yield an empowering theme for the gay community. “At the same time the album became a hit, I came out publicly,” she told Entertainment Weekly in 2009. “The gay community lifted me up and supported me. That bridge in the song was taken to an anthem level. (‘I don’t care what they think/I don’t care what they say/What do they know about this love anyway?’) It bypassed any meaning I ever put in the song and became part of a mass consciousness. It is still a huge moment when I perform it live.” —Susy Exposito

Good advice from Canada’s raunchiest sex sage. With the help of a Roland MC-505, the bisexual drama teacher–turned-rapper sparked a titillating new wave of sleazebag disco with her 2000 LP, Teaches of Peaches. Although “Fuck the Pain Away” was too risqué to chart, its unforgettable, braggadocious lines permeated everything from South Park to 30 Rock and 2003 film Lost In Translation: “Suckin’ on my titties like you wanted me/Calling me all the time like Blondie/Check out my Chrissy behind/It’s fine all of the time.” It was reportedly Madonna’s favorite workout song, and she also featured it in her London play, Up For Grabs. In a 2003 interview with The Guardian, Peaches divulges that she sent Madonna and Guy Ritchie some autographed panties as thanks. “I signed some underwear,” she says, “I wrote, ‘Dear Guy, fuck ya later, love Peaches,’ and for Madonna I wrote, ‘Dear Madonna, fuck ya now, love Peaches.’ It’s cool.” –S.E.

Leathered up and lathered in each others’ sweat, American hardcore band Limp Wrist were at the forefront of the Queercore movement in the late Nineties. As both devoutly straight edge and proudly homosexual, their substance-free stance made them stand out in a time when bars, clubs and other intoxicating spaces comprised the few safe havens for LGBTQ people. Their 2001 song “I Love Hardcore Boys/I Love Boys Hardcore” was an especially cheeky, cathartic release for frontman Martin Sorrondeguy, who came out in the later years of his tenure in Latinx punk band Los Crudos. “I would have never come out in the Eighties,” Sorrondeguy once professed to The Portland Mercury. “I recall spotting a few folks who were queer in those times and I was nervous for them. There were many violent folks around at the time so it was a bit scary. When I came to the point where I was actively gay it took a bit of time to get comfortable and come out but I felt ready for whatever came my way.” –S.E.

New York City’s queens of camp Scissor Sisters portrayed the dilemma of coming out to family as pure comedy: In “Take Your Mama” out, frontman Jake Shears suggests plying your mother with liquor before you break the news. The song appeared on their self-titled debut, which topped the U.K. Albums chart and went nine times platinum. Bono lauded them as “the best pop group in the world” that year, and Elton John would collaborate with the band on their 2006 smash hit “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’.” Although only a fraction of the band’s success in Europe translated to the United States, “Take Your Mama” remains a staple in gay bars across the country. —S.E.

“Blind,” the 2008 collaboration between DJ Andy Butler and transgender singer Anohni, became an instant dance-floor classic in the aughts. Anohni elevated the dark nu-disco cut with her syrupy, Nina Simone–inspired lilt. Butler later told The New York Times that “Blind” recalled “growing up a gay kid, my immediate family and social group rejecting me, and asking why I was born into this situation … But knowing that as soon as I could escape, I would, and that I would find freedom and solace. As an adult, however, I found a life full of excess and other wounded people and confusion. Thus, I felt blind.” —S.E.

Yes, this historic banger also belongs to Lena Dunham and brilliant Swedish women of all persuasions. But there’s something about the picture painted in Robyn’s not-so-mini pop masterpiece that’s deeply resonant to queer, marginalized people: Its protagonist is at her most rejected, lonely and isolated as she tries not to feel like a freak eyeing an ex with his (or her) new piece at a club. Rather than go home or make a scene, however, this heartbroken heroine does what we all should: Dance alone and for herself. —J.R.

Forget the (admittedly delicious) Madonna feud it provoked, and focus instead on the anthem’s bombastic disco-metal sound and its message of self-love and self-acceptance — as preached by Mother Monster, one of the most steadfast and powerful LGBTQ allies in the world. “I had this sort of ‘Eureka!’ revelation moment that those three words ‘Born This Way’ were the answer to so many questions that I’d been asked over the years: ‘Who are you, who are you really?’ I was born this way,” Gaga told Rolling Stone in 2011. “It gets bigger every day, the meaning of it. Every single day my fans realize the gravity of the words.” —J.R.

Days before the release of Frank Ocean’s debut album Channel Orange, he posted a note on Tumblr about a teenage crush on another man. His revelation has become a key moment in the evolution of Black pop, signaling the emergence of countless artists, from Kehlani and Victoria Monet to serpentwithfeet and Steve Lacy, who openly explore queer desire, regardless of gender. But on “Bad Religion,” he admits that society makes same-sex desire feel illicit and heretical. “I can’t tell you the truth about my disguise / I can’t trust no one,” he sings to an unnamed taxi driver that he enlists as his “shrink” over heartbreakingly dramatic organ chords and strings. “It’s a bad religion to be in love with someone who could never love you.”–M.R.

An outspoken lesbian and a Christian, Seattle singer-songwriter Mary Lambert sheds her shame and gets swept away by the ultimate dream girl in “She Keeps Me Warm.” Lambert drafted the song from her hook in “Same Love,” the 2012 hit single by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. The trio would later make headlines after the 2014 Grammy Awards, where their landmark performance of the song would soundtrack a mass wedding between 33 gay and straight couples. (Not to mention it was officiated by Queen Latifah.) “I’m not crying on Sundays,” she sings impassionately — and it feels just like a prayer. –S.E.