Towa Bird Talks American Hero and Queer Women Running Pop Music

Courtesy Interscope Records

Towa Bird is trying to enjoy the early days of her "unc summer," short for uncle summer — you know, grilling burgers outside in her "little shorts and backwards cap," soaking in the Los Angeles sun on the beach with a beverage and curating a lifestyle of leisure — before everything gets too overwhelming. Soon, her debut album, American Hero, will be released, and she'll have to navigate a whole new wave of emotions. The anxiety has already started to build.

For the 25-year-old rockstar, who emerged on TikTok in the early days of the pandemic, it’s not about harnessing that fleeting moment of online fame; it's about channeling it into something more profound and lasting. American Hero was several years in the making. It captures a very specific moment in time for Bird, as she made the move from London to Los Angeles to pursue music full time. It all happened in quick succession: being discovered by Olivia Rodrigo, playing guitar in her documentary driving home 2 u (a SOUR film), signing to Interscope Records, moving to LA, recording her album, and touring with Reneé Rapp. That time marked a period of transition, of adapting to a new place, falling in love, and feeling quite alien in your own skin.

On American Hero, you can hear the chaos. The opener is a self-indulgent expression of Bird's first love: her guitar. Songs like "FML," "Drain Me," and "Ew" present the various stages of love and lust, while "Sorry Sorry" depicts sapphic yearning with razor-sharp honesty. "Deep Cut" is a vicious breakup song with angry guitar riffs and striking clarity: "Turn you into a deep cut / You’re a story that I’ll tell to my friends." Moments that reflect the stark reality of her newfound notoriety include the track "This Isn’t Me," inspired by feeling painfully out of place at Paris Fashion Week. And "B.I.L.L.S." is an anti-capitalism anthem influenced by Bird's own student debt and the staggering price of living in America.

Despite the obvious satire in its title — Bird is a half-Filipino, half-English artist who spent much of her childhood in Hong Kong, Thailand, and London — American Hero is a heroic display of queerness and vulnerability from an artist who makes it look so easy. (She cites Jimi Hendrix, Prince, and Shane from The L Word as her personal Gods, which checks out.) But Bird put in the work and found her voice in the process.

A week before American Hero's release, Teen Vogue caught up with Bird to talk about the album, growing up queer and Catholic, and this unabashedly sapphic moment in pop music.

Teen Vogue: You're only a week away from the release of your debut album. How does that feel?

Towa Bird: I didn't realize it was going to come out in seven days. I was only told this yesterday; I completely forgot. Life has just kind of been going. I did a listening party for the first time last night in LA, and they were like, "So your album's coming out in a week." And I was like, "Really? Oh shit, okay." I'm definitely still a ball of nerves. Excitement hasn't hit yet for me. After showing it to people and sharing it last night, even though everyone was so overwhelmingly supportive and the turnout was great, I was even more anxious. So I'm like, "Okay, so when does the good part kick in?" 'Cause I'm hopeful for that soon.

TV: Most likely the day of its release. Because then it's out in the world, and you have no control anymore.

TB: Hopefully you're right. Because right now I'm the only person who knows what's going on, and everyone else is just waiting for me to do something. So I don't know.

TV: Who was the listening party for?

TB: It was for close fans or people who are on my mailing lists. They're like my children. Those are my babies. They actually call themselves "the cousins." This is very random, but this is what they've assigned to me. I had nothing to do with this, but they call me Grandpa Bird. I guess because I exude elderly male energy. So I'm Grandpa Bird, and they're the cousins.

TV: I think grandpa is a compliment, honestly.

TB: I don't know. I'm just inept with technology, I guess.

TV: I saw that your album announcement is pinned to your Instagram, and the very first comment is, "This is THE year for lesbians." And I have to agree. How do you feel about that?

TB: It feels really cool because there's something that is much bigger than me that's happening. It's actually a really important cultural shift that outwardly and proud queer women are currently at the forefront and really spearheading commercial music right now. And it feels really sick to be part of something much, much greater than me, and even if I can contribute in a small way, that's great.

TV: Oftentimes, queer people have to read into subtext. You look for the clues, you look to connect the dots and to read into things that maybe aren't there, but they're there to you. So it's really refreshing that you're part of this wave of pop music where everything is so wonderfully explicit, like your song "Drain Me." Or even Billie Eilish singing, "I could eat that girl for lunch."

TB: For me, it was never explicit. When I was writing that song I wasn't like, "Yeah, I'm writing about eating pussy." I was like, "I'm just writing about love and how I express that." And it's not an explicit thing to me. This is how I love people, and I'm celebrating that. It's nothing more than that. But I guess to the outside world, because they're hearing it for the first time, I guess it can be quite visceral. But it's simple to me: I write songs about my life, and that's sort of the end of the story.

TV: It's open and honest. You're not hiding behind words, necessarily.

TB: I'm not putting myself back in the closet. F*ck that. Never again.

TV: Does it feel like a community, you and all of these artists that are riding this sapphic pop wave together?

TB: Yeah, it totally does. I have my squad. It's cool to not feel alone in it, and I'm sure that everyone else who's part of that team would relate. It's very powerful.

TV: I know you've talked a lot about the connections you've made in the industry over the past few years. You're close with Beabadoobee, Reneé Rapp, Olivia Rodrigo. You have a song on this album with your bestie, Deb Never. What do you get out of your bonds with them? Do you bounce ideas off of each other?

TB: It's so lovely. Being an artist can sometimes feel quite isolating. You're standing on a stage with everyone looking at you, expecting you to do something. So it feels really nice to be surrounded by people who really understand that feeling of being perceived so much but feeling so isolated throughout that. You mentioned my friend Deb, and we were able to come together and write one of the songs on my album, "Last Dance," which I'm so proud of. We're all putting our minds together and working really hard to create something to put out into the world that feels representative of us. So I do feel very lucky to have these very special bonds with these people. That is friendship, of course, but also there's this unspoken language and understanding.

TV: Karen O has talked about that feeling of loneliness.

TB: That's my queen.

TV: She mentioned feeling so isolated because there was zero mentorship when she was coming up in the early aughts in New York City. There weren't a lot of women fronting bands like she was, and so she had to figure out a lot of this by herself. So I think it's quite lovely that you get to experience things together.

TB: When I think of growing up, I can't think of any queer artists who were kind of like, "I love women. I'm going to talk about it." There was, as you said, a lot of subtext and not using pronouns and making it commercially digestible to the masses. And now it's there. So to me this wonderful group of people will be mentors for the younger artists who come after us, which is so cool.

TV: In the song "FML," you reference the great feminist horror film Jennifer's Body. I love that film so much. What inspired that reference? Are you a big fan?

TB: Yes, 100%. Who doesn't love a lesbian, gory, scary, vampire girl? It's such a great film, and it's so explicit as well. She, like, eats her. I am such a big fan of horror films. I'll go through periods of my life where I'll watch only horror films for like a month. I get hyper-fixated, and then I'll be like, "I need to actually relax my brain for a second." Definitely growing up and not having that many queer films to watch, [Jennifer's Body] was it. It's queer, it's horror. I was so young when I first watched it so I didn't have a critical thought. I was like, "Megan Fox. She's hot. She's scary. My favorite things in a person."

TV: American Hero is the title of this album, which is obviously a satirical choice. Can you delve a little bit deeper into what it represents for you?

TB: American Hero is completely satirical. I'm not American. And when I think of the “American hero” I think of a very straight, very cis, very white, tall, masculine, Chris Pratt-looking motherf*cker with blue eyes. And obviously nothing that I embody. When I think of heroism, I also think of this hyper-masculine hard exterior, emotionless, strong, kind of bullshit. And a lot of these themes that I'm touching on are pretty visceral, gnarly emotions, a lot of vulnerability, a lot of tenderness, a lot of yearning and heartbreak and falling in love and being confused — sort of like the opposite of what one would perceive as heroism.

TV: When did the title come to you?

TB: Probably about a year and a half ago. I decided on it pretty soon. Most of the songs had already been written, and I was just kind of finishing [it] off and adding the additional pieces, taking out the pieces that I didn't leave in the end. But I knew that I wanted it to be that from the beginning.

TV: You said that you don't feel like a hero. I would say a lot of your fans, at least from what I've seen, feel differently. They look at you like, "She has so much confidence, so much swagger. I want to be just like her. I want her. She's so hot." Are you as confident as you appear?

TB: I'm an Aries, and the only time that is ever on display is when I'm on stage. I don't know if you care about this, but I have a Taurus rising and a Virgo moon, so when people talk to me and we're having conversations, I feel like that's what's driving the car. And then when I'm on stage, that's when the Aries really comes out, the sort of confident, a little bit arrogant side of me. It's such a fun part of my personality to play with.

TV: I'm a Virgo sun and a Leo moon, so we're reversed. But I totally get it. I think a lot of people use the word effortless to describe you. Like, "Oh, she's effortlessly cool." How do you feel about that? Is effortless a word that you would use to describe yourself?

TB: I would say that I bust my ass, but I'm glad that people think that I don't, in a way. I don't know, it feels somewhat backhanded 'cause I'm like, "See me." But I also like that you don't think that I lift a finger, that's nice.

TV: On your song "This Isn't Me," it becomes really clear that you don't always feel confident or effortless in doing these public engagements. As you've gotten bigger and you've gotten more well-known and you're invited to more things, this is an industry that produces a lot of self-consciousness.

TB: Looking back on that sense of false heroism, I did not grow up in New York or LA or London. I grew up in Thailand and Hong Kong, and I spent the first 16 years of my life in Asia. I don't come from a family that was in the creative industry or creatively aligned. So the first time that I ever went to anything public-facing like that I was kind of already an adult and was like, "Wow, this is incredibly shocking." It's a lot, it's really overstimulating. And it's very self-involved, and I think I was a little taken aback by all of that. It felt important to me to write about because it was something new that I was experiencing through the process of moving to this country, and also just moving a little bit more into the industry. You guys might see me as effortless or whatever, but f*ck, this is scary. And it's not natural for me, and it feels like something that's completely foreign.

TV: Has it gotten a little bit easier for you the more that you've done it? Or have you just learned better coping mechanisms?

TB: The latter. Thicker skin, probably. But I don't know if it's ever going to be easy. I always come out, and I'm always just like, "That was exhausting." But I'm also happy that I did it. And I'm just down to try stuff and experience it and see what it's like. And also I'll write a song about it.

TV: How do you hold on to what's meaningful for you in the midst of all of this newfound chaos and pressure?

TB: I think just little things, like I just went for a run. I'm all sweaty in this interview, I apologize for that. And my parents still live in Hong Kong, so seeing them as much as I can. And just being connected to my friends from when I was growing up, because I feel like some of the newer people in my life see me as Towa but also see me as Towa Bird and maybe are friends with me for reasons that are beyond my personality. So it's nice to be back with my old friends who I've known since I was three years old who I'm still very close with, and I'm like, "Yeah, you don't give a f*ck. You just love me because I'm an idiot."

TV: It's probably weird for them too. They're like, "What? Towa's at the Vanity Fair Oscars party?"

TB: They're like, "Who let her in?"

TV: You need those people, though. They keep you humble.

TB: Oh my God, my sister. That motherf*cker. She will keep me humble. She's so real. I will never get away with anything with her. I love her to bits, she's one of my best friends.

TV: On the song "Drain Me," which is ultimately a song about sex and pleasure, there's the lyric, "Forgive me father / But I am becoming a sinner." Where did that lyric come from?

TB: I'm Filipino, so if you know anything about Filipino people, we are deeply Catholic people. I grew up Catholic, and every Sunday was church. And I'm also gay as f*ck, if I hadn't mentioned that previously. And so that's a bit of a contradiction there. Communities of color, but also just people in general who grew up religious and are gay and have had to have that conversation with their parents and their families... It was scary, and it was not entirely comfortable. I always just try to chuck some Catholic swag in there because I feel like people relate to it. Although that line in itself is quite humorous and tongue-in-cheek, I think a lot of queer kids can relate to being in a Christian or a religious household.

TV: So there's Catholic guilt and queer yearning on this album. There's a lot going on.

TB: There is so much going on. I'm spilling so much tea about myself.

TV: You've mentioned your multicultural background and your experiences living in Hong Kong and Thailand and London and how they shaped you. And I want to know, how did they shape your musical style and your artistry?

TB: A couple of things. The first one being that I was able to have conversations with people from such diverse backgrounds from such a young age. So talking to people where English wasn't their first language and learning how to communicate with them, and maybe it's through music or through art or through basic broken English. That was an interesting thing for me to grow up with. And then also growing up in countries where gay marriage isn't legal. Or where being queer is illegal. You forget, being in the Western world, that the majority of the world doesn't allow for gay people to get married. Being exposed to that at such a young age, I was like, "This is important for me to talk about, not only for people who grew up in the Western world but for people who grew up globally." And having a partner in Hong Kong, it felt important to do.

TV: The album reflects your experience of moving to Los Angeles and feeling untethered. Are there ones on the album that feel more LA than others?

TB: A big part of the album is trying to acclimate to culture here in the U.S. You can hear that in the song "B.I.L.L.S.," which is me being like "This country is so crazy." It's very transitional. The album's kind of seeing me through that growth.

TV: What's the biggest culture shock of being in LA?

TB: I'd probably say the amount of sodium in food. I'm so thirsty all the time. And people free pour here. I used to bartend a little bit in the UK, and that's illegal. So after two drinks here, I'm like, "Whoa. Okay." Everything in this country is maximalist.

TV: I really love the song "Ew" on the album, where you express this idea of lovesickness and how embarrassing it can be to have a crush or be consumed by someone. There's the lyric, "Love songs falling out of my mouth." What's your favorite love song?

TB: "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls. Or a Jeff Buckley song because I think he's amazing.

TV: The album closes with the song "A Party," and it's this really beautiful, chill album closer, but obviously there's a vulnerability there. You end the entire album on the line, "I know I'm not the one / But I know you needed someone." And in listening to the whole thing it almost feels like you're addressing the listener there.

TB: I end the song obviously just with my voice, which is nice because the intro is just me playing the guitar. So it feels like there is sort of a journey there that takes you through what people have maybe previously seen me as, which was a guitarist online doing covers, and then now kind of coming out as an artist who has thoughts and feelings and emotions and a voice.

TV: A lot of people describe your guitar as your voice.

TB: I understand what they mean. I've been playing guitar since I was 12, so I'm like, "It better f*cking be." I did put in those hours. However, I am definitely trying to blend and experiment with my actual human voice. I think it shows a little bit on the album.

TV: You said you feel most alive when you're on stage. Can you share a memorable experience from some of your early performances that has had more of a significant impact on who you are now as an artist?

TB: I started my first band at 14 in Hong Kong, and we played on the street. We played in weird venues where we were probably underage and not allowed to be there. And it was so fun, and it was also so tough because no one wants to see a 14-year-old band play a rock show. We were bad. It was very humbling because we had to do a lot in order to be recognized. I feel like that's kind of the attitude that I've taken forward into my live show now, which is I never want to be complacent or feel too comfortable up there, and I always want to give a good show and do all of the things that people want to see and what I want to do. I love it so much, so why would I get complacent? Theoretically. I don't know, maybe you'll ask me in a year and I will be jaded and old.

TV: You've been touring with Reneé. You played some big music festivals this summer. Has touring with her changed how you approach your live shows?

TB: Playing the first of three [acts], no one's there to see me. It feels like a bit of an uphill battle, but then once you get to the third or fourth song and people start to engage, I'm like, "Yeah, I'm doing my job. Sick. Cool. I'm forcing you to like me." It was a great learning experience and I loved it. It was a sh*t-show of a tour, but God, I loved it. I loved every second. Wouldn't change it for the world.

TV: The song "B.I.L.L.S." is a huge crowd-pleaser on tour. It's very anthemic. As you gain more recognition, your crowds get a little bigger, you're dropping your first album with a major label, does that song feel a little different when you perform it now?

TB: No, because I'm still in that place. I'm still 25, and I'm still coming out of university and have debt. We're all f*cking here trying our best, you know? Truly, we are. It always has the same energy because I always feel it. People f*ck with that song. When I perform it, I feel like I'm finally off my leash, which is my guitar, and I get to run around just with me and my mic.

TV: Has it made you think a lot about a future headlining tour and the decisions you would make and what you would want to do?

TB: I want the live show to feel very energetic, where people feel down to move and dance and push their friends a little bit. I want people to feel comfortable and free, like a safe space where you can push each other around. It's still a rock show, for f*ck's sake.

Originally Appeared on Teen Vogue

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