Content warning: Music video features themes that include homophobic violence, self-harm and suicide.

On June 25, 1996, Meshell Ndegeocello released her sophomore album Peace Beyond Passion, and “Leviticus: Faggot,” released the day after my 19th birthday on May 21, 1996, was one of the lead singles. The sky opened and the way I listened to music shifted. 

I am sure I’d seen the word faggot written before, and I am very sure I’d heard it in music before, but not in a context like this. In 1996, I hadn’t yet come out, and I was searching for a connection to explain who I was in a way that felt genuine. Ndegeocello’s use of the loaded f-word in this song in a way that wasn’t being used to hurt or taunt me, but as a means to introduce me to a story about someone who I might know was life altering.

This time, the hurtful slur was inspirational.

Music is the most persistent source of comfort in my life. I could get lost in the melodies of Stevie Wonder and the instrumentation of Chaka Khan's voice as a place to find answers to questions I hadn’t yet asked. 

“Leviticus: Faggot” wasn’t the first time I had to confront the use of a problematic, hurtful term in music. The first time was in 1988 when I learned what the acronym N.W.A. stood for juxtaposed with their single “Express Yourself.” It helped me understand that something hurtful could also be placed in the context of a message that could uplift.

I confronted my deepest fears through accepting “Leviticus: Faggot.” Because I wasn’t out, I didn’t have language to express what I was feeling. And while a very specific story, the song and accompanying video helped me learn about one kind of experience Black LGBTQ+ individuals may encounter.

Everything comes from somewhere, and inspiration can be derived from many places. Recorded history tells us that “Leviticus: Faggot” was inspired by Funkadelic’s “Jimmy’s Got A Little Bit of Bitch In Him.” The only mention that I have found about this, by Ndegeocello, is an unsupported quote from a Peace Beyond Passion-era interview that’s no longer available online. It’s not surprising, however, that Ndegeocello would take inspiration from such a tune with its great bass work.

Standing on the Verge of Getting It On by Funkadelic is a standout album, however, available research about the record provides very little information about “Jimmy...”. That’s unfortunate because I have always believed that Funkadelic embodied, implicitly or explicitly, a queer aesthetic, that opened doors for other Black male artists like Prince to walk through.

“Jimmy’s Got A Little Bit of Bitch in Him” is a slice of rock history that is of a specific era and reflective of those social norms. “Leviticus: Faggot” represented an evolution, a Black queer person speaking about a Black queer experience instead of a story being told about us from someone outside of the community.

We talk today about “understanding the assignment.” On July 13, 1996, weeks after the release of Peace Beyond Passion, Nedegeocello hit the stage at the North Sea Jazz Festival in Holland and performed “Leviticus: Faggot” live. She understood the assignment, and stood on stage, her bass reaching up to God, and told this queer story to the concertgoers. Her set overlapped with performances by Little Richard and Sounds of Blackness on other stages. There was no escape for them. They were going to get this Blackness whether they wanted to or not.

For me, a Black gay man in 2021, watching this gospel and jazz-influenced performance still inspires hope for what can be. What are unique ways for our ability to tell our own stories? We have come a long way since 1996, but we also know that a Black LGBTQ+ person is being cast out of their home by the people tasked to love them as we read these words.

How far have we really come?