‘Hands up everyone who loves Jesus,” commands George Marage from the stage of London venue 229. The audience dutifully raise them. Marage nods thanks and the Harlem Gospel Travelers (otherwise known as HGT) start singing God’s Love. The young trio’s fervent voices are astounding, making them one of the most exciting new acts in US gospel – Elton John is a fan and has hosted HGT on his Apple Music radio show, and they performed on Joe Biden’s 2020 election campaign trail. But, while their close harmony and slick stage moves are common in the gospel scene, their openly expressed sexuality is not.
“The church can’t keep pretending we don’t exist,” says Ifedayo Gatling, HGT’s most forthright member, in 229’s dressing room. “And they need us – the gay community – like we need them.”
“We’re spreading love,” says Marage. Third member Dennis Bailey adds: “The 21st century is queer. Accept it.”
Gay and lesbian gospel singers have always existed, yet homophobia forced these pioneers to remain closeted: Sister Rosetta Tharpe and Marie Knight were creative and rumoured romantic partners, while Alex Bradford and Clara Ward were known to pursue same-sex relationships. Ditto Little Richard and Billy Preston, who shifted between secular and gospel music, while Carl Bean, who recorded the gay anthem I Was Born This Way for Motown in 1978, had previously been a noted gospel singer.
Coming after these decades of secrecy, it’s a radical move for HGT to present themselves as a gay gospel outfit. While there are efforts from progressive churches to be more inclusive, Black Baptist churches on the gospel circuit can still feature pastors who continue to equate homosexuality with sin and damnation. Anthony Heilbut, author of The Gospel Sound, the foremost book on the genre, wrote in 2013: “The Black church, once the very model of civil rights, has acquired a new image, as the citadel of intolerance.”
The only Black churches HGT have so far performed in are those they have family connections with, and the majority of their performances take place in festivals, colleges and secular venues. Gospel radio has also shunned them, not just because of their sexuality but also because their music, which harks back to a 60s and 70s soul-gospel sound, is – perhaps paradoxically – viewed as too traditional.
“I know the gospel radio DJs and they are afraid to play us,” Gatling says. “We don’t sound like a lot of contemporary gospel, which is trying to sound like contemporary secular music. I pray for the day when they will play our music and understand the ministry we represent. The Bible says: ‘ … go into the highways and the byways.’ How you gonna do that if you are ignoring all the different people out there?”
The trio note how homophobia destroyed the career of Anthony Charles Williams II, a popular contemporary gospel singer known as Tonex, who was ostracised after coming out in 2009 (he now records as B.Slade). “The church treated Tonex so badly,” says Gatling. “When people found out he was queer they tore him asunder. They called him demonic. I don’t want to see us losing another artist.”
HGT, then, are dedicating themselves to “changing the narrative of what gospel can be and what the artists can represent,” notes Gatling. “A lot of African American people have a fear of their children being queer and this is because it adds another layer of danger, of struggle, to their lives.
“But, just as you can’t help being Black, you can’t help who you love – so they’ve got to accept this and help them be safe with it. Also, it’s not something we can hide. We went out and performed on the Joe Biden campaign and people were like, ‘They so gay.’ We weren’t even doing anything!”
They all laugh. HGT certainly don’t hide – Gatling took to 229’s stage in a purple sequined bodysuit, platform boots and heart-shaped glasses, his chest-length hair immaculately braided. Even if religious audiences are resistant, that stagecraft is endearing them to secular crowds, as is their dynamic blend of soul and gospel.
HGT first took shape as a quartet in 2014, when musician and producer Eli “Paperboy” Reed started holding auditions for a classic male gospel quartet. Gatling and Marage, respectively from Long Island and Staten Island, named the quartet Harlem Gospel Travelers because, as Gatling explains, “we had to travel all the way to Harlem for rehearsals.” Their 2019 debut album, He’s on Time, was considered a one-off and the quartet disbanded to attend college, but the album got a positive response and Reed suggested they make another. Two members declined so Gatling recruited Bailey – “we met in musical theatre class” – and, now a trio, they made 2022’s Look Up!
For their new album Rhapsody, Reed and the trio selected 10 songs from the Numero Group label’s Good God! series, which gathered obscure vintage gospel recordings. Songs such as We Don’t Love Enough and Searching for the Truth work as religious and secular parables and HGT perform them with great conviction; by going back in gospel history, the trio are championing the genre in the way that Sharon Jones’ Daptone recordings did with classic R&B.
“Gospel music is for everyone,” says Gatling. “No matter what your background. No matter what your religion.”
HGT aren’t concerned about having more secular fans than Christian ones, and they all have connections to contemporary music. “I grew up in Houston, so it was rap for me,” says Bailey. “Z-Ro is our Goat; Slim Thug, stuff that spoke to people about what was happening on the streets.” Marage adds that he’s always loved Mariah Carey, while Gatling cites another Houston icon. “Being a preacher’s kid I definitely grew up on gospel music,” he says. “But being a naughty boy I went over to my cousins’ and they taught me about Beyoncé.”
He adds that Beyoncé’s album Renaissance, which paid tribute to her queer uncle and the queer pioneers of house music, helped HGT be more open about their sexuality: “I realised that she was celebrating the gay Black community.”
“No more hiding,” adds Bailey.
“Bey, we’re waiting on your call,” Gatling concludes, to more laughter. You can well imagine her getting in touch, even if the church doesn’t.
