Chappell Roan dropping out of a music festival had an unexpected upside for fans of queer pop

• The music festival All Things Go took place on Saturday and Sunday in Maryland and New York.
• Chappell Roan, a major draw, dropped out at the last minute — but other performers made up for it.
• Artists like MUNA, Reneé Rapp, and Janelle Monáe proved that other queer artists deserve the spotlight, too.

On Sunday evening, MUNA welcomed the crowd at Maryland’s Merriweather Post Pavilion to All Things Go Music Festival, which the group lovingly dubbed “Lesbopalooza.”

When the word flashed onto the big screen, the crowd’s ear-splitting reaction spoke for itself. The three queer bandmates, Katie Gavin, Naomi McPherson, and Josette Maskin, went on to deliver a triumphant hourlong set that toed the line between horny and silly. There was grinding during the sex-fantasy anthem “No Idea;” they threw a bunch of inflatable ponies into the pit during “Anything But Me,” a song that begins, “You’re gonna say that I’m on a high horse / I think that my horse is regular-sized.”

Many bands dream of being met with this kind of rabid enthusiasm someday. But the remarkable thing was that MUNA wasn’t even the artist the festival crowd had bought tickets to see.

The original performer intended for that slot, Chappell Roan, pulled out of the festival the day before it began, leaving organizers to work “around the clock” to fill the gap in their schedule.

Luckily, MUNA was already set to perform at the inaugural New York installment of the festival on Saturday, so the band agreed to double up. (Roan’s performance slot at Forest Hills Stadium in Queens was replaced instead by a troupe of local drag queens.)

Roan’s decision was met with equal parts support and disappointment by festivalgoers. Many said they’d been convinced to buy tickets (ranging from $119 to $199, or even more at resale prices) off the strength of Roan’s now-famous stage presence, not to mention the extraordinary pace of her career trajectory. Though Roan was not billed as a headliner, by the time the festival rolled around, her monthly listeners on Spotify had swelled to over 45 million, far surpassing the majority of her fellow performers (and second only to Sunday headliner Hozier).

Even in her absence, Roan’s aesthetic was everywhere. The festival was dotted with her “Midwest Princess” merchandise and “Pink Pony Club”-style cowboy hats. At least one person was in full Lady Liberty drag, emulating Roan’s onstage look at Governors Ball in June.

On social media, there were fewer examples of solidarity. Roan was widely criticized for withdrawing from the festival on such short notice; her decision came after a week of backlash, sparked by poorly phrased political statements that Roan shared on TikTok. On Friday, when she announced her mini hiatus, Roan told fans the noise had gotten “overwhelming.”

Still, festival organizers and performers were united in Roan’s corner. In a statement, All Things Go said it “strongly supports artists prioritizing their well-being.” MUNA even added a cover of Roan’s breakout hit “Good Luck Babe!” to their setlist, describing it as a “group exercise” in showing her love and support.

This position makes sense, as All Things Go has long been committed to booking and uplifting both women and queer artists.

MUNA has demonstrated the same commitment, particularly over the past few years while they’ve toured to support their 2022 self-titled album. The band regularly recruits friends — usually women and artists from the LGBTQ+ community — to join the stage for their finale song, “Silk Chiffon,” including the likes of Phoebe Bridgers (who’s featured on the studio version), Lorde, Gracie Abrams, Arlo Parks, Julien Baker, and most recently, Lucy Dacus.

“Silk Chiffon” may be MUNA’s biggest song to date, the indie hit that ushered in their self-described “queer joy” era, but it’s only one of many gems on their setlist. Indeed, for fans who ventured to All Things Go for Roan and got MUNA instead, it’s hard to imagine how they could walk away unsatisfied. Their two catalogs share many of the same themes: rebellion, transformation, self-determination, sapphic lust, and, most importantly, hope and resilience in the face of judgment and bigotry.

Roan’s fans were understandably let down by her absence, but if All Things Go showed us anything, it’s that there’s a deep well of queer musicians working today who are equally deserving of attention and admiration.

Put another way: Roan is not the only member of the LGBTQ+ community making escapist-yet-intimate pop music right now, although the parasocial behavior she’s inspired might make you believe that she is.

The backlash Roan received this week was at least partially warranted — she failed to effectively communicate her criticism of the Democratic party, causing her to fall into the familiar trap of “bothsidesing,” and then failed to effectively address that constructive criticism — but it’s also true that her rise to stardom has led to vicious harassment and unreasonably high expectations for her life, her personality, and her career.

Much of the obsession with Roan seems to spring from the notion that she is representing the queer community in a way that doesn’t exist elsewhere (and therefore must represent the community perfectly), which is simply false.

It’s true that Roan has managed to uplift pockets of queer culture that are often overlooked or unjustly vilified, especially drag performers and trans people. She has also been celebrated for speaking out for social justice initiatives.

But she’s certainly not alone in these pursuits. Onstage at All Things Go, MUNA made a point to dedicate “Kind of Girl” to the trans people in the audience, and to introduce their performance of “I Know a Place” — an optimistic rallying cry for queer kids who feel unsafe or unloved, kind of like their very own “Pink Pony Club” — with an impassioned speech against fascism.

And MUNA was hardly the only queer act at the festival. Their performance was followed by Reneé Rapp, the shamelessly unfiltered vocal powerhouse who came out as a lesbian earlier this year. Other standouts included Towa Bird, who delivered her own guitar-fueled set before joining her girlfriend Rapp onstage for “Tummy Hurts;” Amber Bain of The Japanese House, whose stunning indie-pop jewels like “:)” and “Boyhood” explore her journeys with queerness and gender; Maren Morris of “The Middle” fame, who recently came out as bisexual; acclaimed singer-songwriter Ethel Cain, who is trans; Conan Gray, beloved for his poignant portrayals of gay yearning; and Janelle Monáe, a self-identified “free-ass motherfucker” who dazzled the festival crowd with campy costume changes, gay anthems, and show-stopping vocals.

None of these artists have reached the same level of mainstream success as Roan, but that’s kind of the problem — and the point. When there’s only one person forced upon a pedestal, she’s almost destined to let you down. There’s no reason why Roan should be saddled with the hopes and expectations of an entire community when she has plenty of peers who can (and should) be sharing the spotlight.