Whammy Bar is for the Queers

FEATURE | PUORO O AOTEAROA | LOCAL MUSIC

Written by Cameron LEIGH McCurdy (she/her) | @leighapparently | Social Media Coordinator

I used to be a boy (Allegedly). A boy who liked girls. All very standard stuff, really. Pedestrian, even.

One night I attended a gig at Whammy Bar, I can’t remember which. A pretty boy sat next to me on the grass in Myers Park. We had known each other for a while throughout the all-ages music scene. We shared a bottle of soju and made out with each other passionately. By the time we made it back to the venue it seemed we had already decided that we’d never mention what had happened ever again. That was my first proper kiss with a boy. I was still a boy myself though (Allegedly).

One night I played a gig at Whammy Bar, the K M T P album release. During the album tour I had told the rest of the band that I was trans.

“We need more women in the band”, Maté had said.

And I chimed in with a “Funny you should say that”.

Not many people knew at this point, just my closest friends and the two bands I was playing drums for. I manned the doors at K M T P’s album release show with my friend Karin.

Someone said to her “I like his art”, and pointed to me.

Karin immediately blurted, “Cam’s pronouns are she/her”. 

I panicked; this was the first stranger to be perceived by.

“Oh! Sorry!” she said, smiling, and everything was fine. Throughout the night I was “she”, and I was “her”, and it became easier and easier. Later, one of the bartenders asked my pronouns.

“She/her”, I said.

“Oh nice!” Said the bartender, “Do you make electronic music?”

“...Yes,” I admitted, fulfilling T-Girl stereotypes.

Panel from “There Were No Signs” from Rat World Issue Eight

One night I played a gig at Whammy Bar, Backroom & Wine Cellar, the Festival of Sunreturn. I told Amelia “Amamelia” Berry that she was the first trans woman I had ever known, back when myself and Liz from the Beths played trumpet for Polyester’s “Lucky Me”. I told her that I was trans too, and we hugged. I admired her dress, and I resolved to dress for myself instead of for social comfort at the next gig I attended. But that next gig wouldn’t happen for a year. Not until I was well into taking daily Spironolactone and Oestradiol Valerate.

One night I attended a gig at Double Whammy, Misheard Records’ Kiriata Me Puoro - An Animation And Music Festival. It was my first time ever wearing a dress in public.

Meeting for dinner in the Ponsonby Food Court, I was deeply nervous. Eyes darting back and forth, scanning the faces of every stranger for any kind of negative reaction.

After dinner we played at the Ponsonby Pool Hall, the gin & tonic I had consumed barely allowing me to push through the sheer panic of outing myself so visibly. I won the first match, and lost the next two as the inebriation wore off, and the nerves returned. We walked the long trek to St Kevin’s Arcade, I eyed the ground the whole time, trying to stay small and invisible.

Then I stepped into Whammy Public Bar and felt the weight fall off my shoulders. I helped with writing time slots and merch details, I drank gin with friends by the merch table. I ran into exes, and everything was fine. I was surrounded by my people in the building that made me. I twirled as I danced to Lips and the dress twirled with me.

Panel from “There Were No Signs” from Rat World Issue Eight

One night I played a gig at Whammy Bar, Auckland Pride & Misheard Records’ QUEER AUTUMN.

In the wake of Destiny’s Church’s attack on the Te Atatu Community Centre at a prior Auckland Pride event, tensions were high. My mum expressed worry about me dressing as myself in such a public space, but I thought of the bartenders, the bouncers, my friends, my bandmates, and I realised that other than my own bedroom, Whammy Bar is probably the safest place to be.

Performing as LEIGH for the first time with my backing band, I felt more woman than I ever had. I took my HRT live on stage, and sung trans-coded art pop for half an hour to a crowd of beautiful queers.

I had already had my coming-of-age through music story during the Auckland All-Ages scene from 2014 to 2017. A messy clusterfuck of underage drinking, deeply unsafe music venues, and permanent ear drum damage.

But as those who go through second puberty often find, I stumbled into a second coming-of-age in my mid-20s and was lucky enough to find a safe and welcoming space to try out being myself in. Now I make music for me, perform music as myself, and attend gigs as a woman still drinking the same old G&T.

Protect the dolls. Especially dolls like Whammy Bar.

Photo of LEIGH performing at QUEER AUTUMN by Serena Rowe. From left to right: Jessie Booth, Josh Parker, Cameron McCurdy, & Kieren Norman.