Like a game of telephone, as a song gains popularity and is shared, then shared, and shared again, it becomes white noise, ever-present in the background of Instagram posts and TikToks, but not listened to. When this phenomenon happens to artists whose music says something — makes a statement, tells a story —  the song is robbed of its meaning, its value. 

This muting of meaning and the distortion of an artist’s lyrics is damaging to those artists who describe their queer identities and relationships through their music, music which allows listeners to feel validated and seen. 

Going viral on a social media platform like TikTok is supposed to be beneficial for artists, giving them additional exposure and spreading their art online, but as their hooks and choruses get repeated over and over again, the song’s lyrics, in their ubiquity, became muted and misinterpreted. 

Popular queer musicians — like Chappell Roan, Frank Ocean, Conan Gray, and others — often frame their life experiences with funky instrumentals and catchy choruses, which then become fun-to-listen-to hits that become popular on TikTok. But when listeners share these songs on social media, sometimes millions of times — like Roan’s viral hit “Good Luck, Babe!”, which has 749 million plays on Spotify — their popularity actually becomes detrimental to the artist’s intent. 

Roan’s aforementioned hit, for example, acknowledges common hardships that queer women face in relationships. In the song, Roan grapples with the anger of her partner’s shame over their secret relationship, while still sympathizing with the impulse of compulsory heterosexuality, the social pressures to live a heterosexual life that many queer women are subject to while exploring their sexuality. But the song’s meaning was muted as soon as it hit TikTok and became musical wallpaper to totally unrelated videos.

The popularity of her album, The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess, and the hit single “Good Luck, Babe!” in particular, made Roan an icon to the LGBTQIA+ community. Her soulful vocals about self-discovery and her experience being queer while growing up in a conservative Midwestern town connected with millions in the gay community. 

Queer women are especially able to connect with Roan’s relatable struggles with dating. However, as soon as the song dropped on TikTok on April 5, it ended up being relegated to background music for TikToks ranging from home renovations to cooking tutorials.

These social media content creators who use the music solely for views damage the song’s integrity and value. In a TikTok video that received over 86,000 likes, an influencer ranks how attracted she is to men of different heights. In the background of the TikTok is Roan’s song, “Good Luck, Babe!” The purpose of the song — to express Roan’s queer experience — is appropriated for a skit about the dateability of tall men. This is disrespectful to Roan and to the larger queer community. 

Sadly, this kind of erasure and appropriation of the LGBTQ community in music isn’t new. 

Singer George Michael, for instance, is one of the most iconic artists of the 1980s. His band, Wham!, captured the hearts of teenage girls and boys across the country with hit songs like “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go,” “Careless Whisper,” and “Last Christmas.” The band was a pop music phenomenon. 

In 1986 Michael left the group, but continued to influence global pop culture as a solo act. His album, Faith, and its ubiquitous hits “Faith” (and its iconic music video) and “Father Figure” further framed Michael as the king of women’s (and men’s) hearts.

In 1990, Michael released the solo album Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1. The biggest hit on the album is the song “Freedom ‘90,” which reached number eight on the Billboard sales charts.

Listeners enjoyed the song’s catchy beat and accompanying music video, which featured lip-syncing supermodels (but not Michael, who chose not to appear at all in the video because he was “no longer interested in stardom”). But listeners also missed the point of the song: In addition to rejecting his pop-star persona, Michael was coming out.

Michael’s very public display of vulnerability — expressed in lyrics like “Heaven knows I was just a young boy / Didn’t know what I wanted to be” — later made the song an anthem for many who faced the relatable struggle of coming out as queer. Michael finally found freedom from the box that his stardom had trapped him in.

Hip-hop artist Frank Ocean was also confronted with the appropriation and misinterpretation of lyrics. 

Ocean revolutionized the hip-hop industry after coming out as bisexual in 2012. As one of the few openly queer artists in his genre, he inspired many in the LGBTQ community to be true to themselves. 

The lyrics from his 2017 hit “Chanel” describe an ex-boyfriend, a UFC fighter. Ocean sings, “my guy pretty like a girl / and he got fight stories to tell / see both sides like Chanel.” Upon release of the song, Ocean was confronted with the stigma against queerness in the hip-hop industry, but he took a stand in supporting the LGBTQIA+ community. As the song rose in popularity, it was even featured in two ads by Chanel, which embraced his coming-out through the song. (“WE SEE BOTH / SIDES LIKE FRANK,” one of the ads reads.) 

But once again, a content creator took a song about an artist’s identity and distorted it for clicks. For example, a TikToker uses Ocean’s song to portray what she expects in her own straight relationship. 

The official video of Frank’s song has 71 million views. In the first comment (which has 8,800 “likes”) a user wrote, “Frank has straight guys singing about how they ‘see both sides like Chanel’. Only a legend could.” Further evidence of the rampant misinterpretation of the lyrics of popular songs by queer artists. 

Gay musicians aren’t blind to this “straight-washing.”

In Conan Gray’s hit song, “Heather,” he sings about his unreciprocated feelings for a straight man. His now iconic line, “I wish I was Heather,” describes how he wishes he could be his crush’s girlfriend instead. His song was an instant hit and currently has 1.8 billion plays on Spotify, but more importantly, his experience connected with queer men worldwide. 

Again, the ubiquity of a song led to misinterpretation. In one video, Gray reacts to a TikTok of someone who so egregiously misinterpreted “Heather” that they believed it was a song about the singer wanting to date Heather. (“Pain,” Gray wrote in reaction). 

The music that queer artists create is too-often exploited, and ultimately ruined, by listeners who do not make an effort to understand what the music they’re listening to means, what it stands for. 

The practice of hearing 15 seconds of a song on TikTok and being oblivious too, or outright disregarding its meaning, needs to end. This culture of ignorance is disrespectful to the artist and to the larger queer community. Music that actually says something is treated as white noise in the background of a TikTok about someone’s skincare routine or food review. 

Through its long history of oppression, erasure, and judgment, art has been one of the most prominent ways for the queer community to connect with others and to unite as a community. 

When the meaning of songs, like Roan’s “Good Luck, Babe!”, are ignored and taken out of context, sometimes solely for TikTok views, the artist’s stories are erased. 

The queer community deserves better.

Same-sex marriage bans in the U.S. were abolished less than 10 years ago. Still, in 2024, the LGBTQIA+ community continues to be denied basic rights and dignity. They deserve a space to flourish and to embrace their identities, not see their messages erased for views and clicks. 

By tuning out lyrics and missing the message of singers who are sharing vulnerable parts of themselves — sharing essential stories about the human experience — we deprive these songs from being heard for what they truly are: exquisite, essential works of art. 

Instead of tuning out the words of our favorite singers, let’s actually listen to what they have to say.