Yep, Adam Lambert May Be Too Gay

Music star Adam Lambert poses for the most recent cover of Out, along with four other personalities, as part of the Gay 100, the magazine’s annual celebration of icons, activists and mouthpieces. But Lambert’s inclusion has been marred by his record label and management, who, according to editor Aaron Hicklin, insisted that the American Idol runner-up not look “too gay.” Hicklin writes in an open letter to Lambert, “We’re curious whether you know that we made cover offers for you before American Idol was even halfway through its run. Apparently, Out was too gay, even for you. There was the issue of what it would do to your record sales, we were told. Imagine! A gay musician on the cover of a gay magazine. What might the parents think! It’s only because this cover is a group shot that includes a straight woman [Cyndi Lauper] that your team would allow you to be photographed at all.” It’s all eerily reminiscent of 1997, when Ellen DeGeneres came out on her eponymous sitcom.

“The Puppy Episode” first aired 12 years ago. It drew over 42 million viewers, which was a record high for the series, then in its fourth season. Ellen was renewed for another season following the critical and commercial success of the coming-out episode—but this time with a parental advisory. The show was canceled one year later, and in a matter of months, the magazine covers DeGeneres graced devolved from triumphs like “Yep, I’m Gay” (Time) to caveats like “Yep, She’s Too Gay” (Entertainment Weekly).

Lambert seems to be going through the same thing right now. His flamboyance on stage is the very thing that his handlers worry will detract from sales—when discussed, chronicled, and speculated about offstage. Don’t hide it, Adam, but don’t flaunt it, either. Like Ellen before him, it’s important to toe the line between being gay enough to not piss off gay fans, and straight enough to not alienate straight fans. “I didn’t want to acknowledge it as a mistake or something I was ashamed of—I’m not,” Lambert tells the magazine of the photos that surfaced of he and his ex-boyfriend kissing. “It’s part of who I am, but because our nation is the way it is, it’s an announcement. If I lose some fans, fuck it. I need to be happy too.”

All of this is fine and admirable, of course, if it were true. This is, after all, the man who appeared in Details magazine, not only kissing a woman, but also suggesting a playing house-version of oral sex with her. (An easy, and perhaps reductive, comparison to Lambert’s breed of unapologetic softball sexuality is pop star Mika, who is similarly reluctant to discuss his personal life.)

But here’s how I discern between the right and wrong way to handle this situation—if such binaries exist. Take Lady Gaga. Her entire life is a giant piece of performance art, down to the music she records, the clothes she wears, the public appearances she makes. I don’t know anything about her sex life, and yet I don’t feel like she’s hiding anything. Nor do I feel as if she censors herself for the sake of the lowest common demographic. There is no sense of shame with her, just mystery. With Lambert, however, I get the very palpable impression that he is contorting himself, not into a work of art, but into a reflection of what he thinks his audience wants. And it’s sad to imagine that the people behind many of his decisions are looking at him, grooming him, guiding him, and smiling at him—all in the name of album sales.