Monika: Frida Kill is a Brooklyn-based intersectional feminist punk band. It consists of Lily Gist, Jeanette D. Moses, Maria Lina, and Gaby Canales. And today I am meeting Lily Gist to talk about her inspirations, being a trans artist, and her artistic perception of the world.
Hello Lily! You are a perfect example that punk rock is not dead!
Lily: Hi Monika! So are you, I just play loud music.
Monika: I always associate punk music with authenticity and equality. Is it difficult to achieve this with four strong-minded, charismatic ladies with different backgrounds and experiences?
Lily: We’re very different people from very different backgrounds. The other three don’t know what it’s like to be trans and I don’t know what it’s like to be Black, Hispanic, Jewish, from an immigrant family, or to have a pastor for a father. We all lead and support, fill multiple roles, different songs have different singers and we swap instruments often. Navigating each other’s differences can be complex work sometimes but we all have each other’s backs 100% and even when we argue or push each other’s buttons we listen and learn.
Monika: I read that the idea of the band was born when Maria Lina and you started a cover band for Halloween. How did you come up with the name of the band?
Lily: That’s right, Maria and I did a Roky Erickson Halloween band together and it was so fun! We went to go see him play that Halloween too, sadly one of his last shows. It was over at Knockdown Center, Maria dressed up like Frida Kahlo and I was the devil. But that isn’t where we got the name from, actually our friend Jordan Franklin came up with it. She’s one of the most powerful poets I know, I really look up to her for her control over language and the feeling and rhythm of her words.
We were singing about immigration and violence, children in cages, people on fire, and we wanted our name to sound feminist and strong but we couldn’t come up with anything we could agree on. I ran into Jordan at a show at King Killer studios and asked her if she had any ideas, looking back it’s as if the words were hanging in the air invisible to us and she just plucked them down and put them together.
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| "I’ve been a cellist for my entire life, melodies I’ve learned freely rattle around in my brain." Photo by Mike Borchardt. |
Lily: I think I’m the most minimalist in the band. I like to remove notes to let others through, especially the snare drum, I like to get out of its way so it pops out in the mix. I try to say things in as few words as I can and I want the structure of a song to be only as complex as it needs to be to express the idea behind it. I don’t mind repetition if it gives the listener a chance to linger on a mood or idea, but I hate it when it’s just for the sake of symmetry.
When I play a chord I like to hit as few notes as possible. Sophisticated people tend to turn their noses up at power chords but they offer so much freedom. They aren’t inherently major or minor in key, they’re just the root, fifth, and octave, so power chord motifs can coherently weave through all kinds of ideas, keys, and modes as the song develops.
Monika: Jimmy Page used to say that every guitar player inherently has something unique about their playing. They just have to identify what makes them different and develop it. Have you done it yourself?
Lily: I’ve been a cellist for my entire life, melodies I’ve learned freely rattle around in my brain and find their way out when I’m sitting around with a guitar in my hands. When I’m alone my natural habit is to play dark, meandering minor key melodies borrowing from the likes of Elgar, Bach, Bloch, Bartók, Schumann, and Grieg.
Cellos have an incredible power to build and release tension one note at a time, especially when playing solo. Subtle changes in timbre, volume, and speed add so much emotional resonance. Jacqueline Du Pre guts me, her sound washes through me from head to toe.
I’m still developing as a guitar player and songwriter but if there’s something unique about how I play, it’s probably buried in all the ways I find myself chasing that sound without losing the beat.
Monika: Frida Kill can boast 2 albums, “Demos” (2020) and “EP 1” (2022). What are the plans for 2023?
Lily: I think of both of those as just demo tapes to help us book shows. We started right before the pandemic began and we had a lot to learn. We cut our teeth in the Brooklyn rock scene. I didn’t know guitar at all and barely played bass. Maria’s voice was killer already but she hardly played any instruments, Jeanette was a successful photographer who had followed bands around the country but never played herself, and Gaby had never drummed in a band before and had been mostly focused on her career as a veterinarian. Now we’re finally ready, 2023 is our year. We have our first full-length record coming out soon and will be going on multiple tours around the US. I also hope to get a second record out this year.
Monika: Did the transition change you as an artist?
Lily: I started puberty blockers right at the beginning of high school, estrogen after my sophomore year, publicly transitioned and legally changed my name after my junior year, and had GRS right after my 19th birthday. I then moved to New York City for college where I lived stealth for almost a decade.
My school, my friends, my jobs, even my romantic partners were completely in the dark, and I had to learn to find peace with the unclosable gap between myself and others. I was terrified of the spotlight, afraid that some ghost from my past would recognize and out me, which I thought would ruin what little chance I had of success or happiness.
Opening up publicly changed all of that. When I finally allowed myself to step up into the spotlight I could feel the absence of all that fear. It gave me a serene sort of confidence, one that I don’t feel anywhere else but on stage.
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| "We’re very different people from very different backgrounds. The other three don’t know what it’s like to be trans and I don’t know what it’s like to be Black, Hispanic, Jewish, from an immigrant family, or to have a pastor for a father." Photo by Edwina Hay. |
Monika: Is it possible to talk about trans rock as a genre?
Lily: I’d argue that “trans rock” isn’t a genre, it's a global community, and one wonderful example within that community is Brooklyn TransCore. It’s brimming with powerful, brilliant, talented trans artists playing many styles of music, with bands like The Dilators boasting all trans femmes and Tits Dick Ass fronted by Julia Pierce alongside country rock star Mya Byrne and avant-garde rocker Pinc Louds.
And it isn’t just music, that group includes all kinds of artists, organizers, and community activists. I’m shy sometimes around all that energy, it’s something I want so much to be a part of but I spent so long looking through the window as a lonely stealth girl it’s kind of overwhelming to me.
Monika: I interviewed Mya 6 years ago and it is great to see how successful she has become over the years!
We all pay the highest price for fulfilling our dreams to be ourselves. As a result, we lose our families, friends, jobs, and social positions. Did you pay such a high price as well? What was the hardest thing about your coming out?
Lily: I lost most of my friends, was sent anonymous death threats, was doxxed, beat up, bullied, ostracized, laughed at, and worse. I found myself running into the arms of damaged men more than double my age and later found that it didn’t even matter that I was trans, some of the deepest cruelties were inflicted by people who thought I was a cis girl. I feel lucky to be alive and when I think about those years I prefer to focus instead on what got me through them.
Monika: We are said to be prisoners of passing or non-passing syndrome. Although cosmetic surgeries help to overcome it, we will always be judged accordingly. How can we cope with this?
Lily: I don’t know what passing syndrome would be but I can say that these last few years I’ve been trying to be more visible to trans people. I want to be a part of the community I spent so long trying to hide away from. I feel so isolated sometimes, most of the people I hang out with are cis het musicians.
Monika: Do you remember the first time you saw a transgender woman on TV or met anyone transgender in person that opened your eyes and allowed you to realize who you are?
Lily: No, but I remember reading the word “transsexual” in the glossary of a middle school health textbook and being stunned that it was real, that there was a word for me.
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| "Maria dressed up like Frida Kahlo and I was the devil." |
Lily: I had both of those things. I had to fight for them, it took years, but I had them, and I then fought for job protections and other legal rights in Massachusetts and New York. I worry that the level of care that I was able to receive will be made illegal and I want to do everything I can to keep that from happening. I talk about it nearly every time I go on stage.
Monika: The rise of the transgender movement coincides with the growing number of trans-exclusionary radical feminists (TERF) who reject the assertion that trans women are women and deny the inclusion of trans women in women's spaces, and transgender rights legislation. So I feel a woman (as long as I can remember), I look like a woman (though I am sometimes clocked), I have my vagina (made in Thailand), I cannot menstruate (true), and I cannot give birth (yes indeed). Which element disqualifies me from being a woman?
Lily: I remember fantasizing about crashing the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival when I was a spiteful teenager. Nowadays I just feel an aching sadness knowing their views are informed largely by trauma and fearmongering.
It’s easier to feel outrage than love. It’s easier to act defensively than to open up and accept your own faults. They aren’t our enemies even though they go out of their way to hurt us. They’re desperate for a sense of safety and are taking the path of least resistance.
I know how susceptible I was to unhealthy choices when I was in that mindset.
We’ve been made into a wedge that divides the working class, the women, the people of color, and every other marginalized group, keeping us from uniting under the same flag against the ruling class and the patriarchy. I practice radical acceptance and try to extend grace wherever I can.
Monika: Many transgender ladies write their memoirs. Have you ever thought about writing such a book yourself?
Lily: Ask me again in 20 years.
Monika: I promise to do it! Could you tell me about the importance of love in your life?
Lily: I’ve had many great loves in my life and I’ve broken up with all of them. I crave love as much as anyone but I don’t think I’m very good at giving it. Trust doesn’t come easily to me and I struggle with creating and maintaining healthy boundaries. I hope over the next few years that I can grow into the person I want to be and find the person I want to be with.
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| The Portrait of Lili Gist by Alexarts. |
Monika: What would you recommend to all transgender women that are afraid of transition?
Lily: Life may be short but it’s the longest thing you’ll ever experience. Some things will hurt, and sometimes that hurt can take decades to heal and there’s no way to speed that up. Let things take as long as they need, try to be patient with people, extend as much grace as you can, and little by little carve out your path and find your community. We’re all in this together and we all want the best for you.
Monika: My pen-friend Gina Grahame wrote to me once that we should not limit our potential because of how we were born or by what we see other transgender people doing. Our dreams should not end on an operating table; that’s where they begin. Do you agree with this?
Lily: I’ve lived at least three lives since I was on that operating table. Of course, I agree.
Monika: Lily, it was a pleasure to interview you. Thanks a lot!
Lily: The pleasure’s mine, thank you for everything you do.
All the photos: courtesy of Lily Gist.
The main photo is by Kelsey Wagner.
© 2023 - Monika Kowalska
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