While her peers were plastering their walls with One Direction posters, a young Towa Bird was rummaging through her dad’s CD collection. The guitar solos on Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and Jimi Hendrix’s Are You Experienced hypnotized her like a siren’s call, and the 12-year-old spent the next decade or so mastering the instrument. Bird’s virtuoso playing and her love for the classics shine through on the defiantly queer, hook-laden rock anthems of American Hero, her newly released debut album. “Classic rock from the ’60s and ’70s was the first era of music that I felt emotionally attached to,” Bird says.
Discovering that guitar could be used as a voice to propel the lead vocal to greater heights just made sense to the budding musician. But when it came to recording her own album, she felt obliged to explore other genres. “I tried to do more electro-pop stuff,” Bird laughs. However, it didn’t take long for her to course correct, returning to the sound that first ignited her passion for music. “I was like, ‘What am I doing?’” Bird recalls. “I set out to make a nostalgic album that makes people feel like they’ve heard it before, but they haven’t.”
The first brick in the foundation that would become American Hero was “Boomerang,” which evokes Joan Jett by way of Heart. “It had all of the things that I want my songs to have: hooky melodies and a fucking one-key guitar solo, which takes you into a whole other world.” The next songs to fall into place were “Wild Hearts” and “Drain Me,” which became the blueprint for the project. “I found my sound.”
One of the later additions to the record, “Sorry Sorry,” thematically covers the ever-dangerous bid to escape the friend zone. “You don’t want to jeopardize the friendship,” she muses, “but you also feel like it’s something that you should do, and you just go back and forth.” Like most of Bird’s songs, “Sorry Sorry” is based on personal experience. “I’ve only ever written about things that have happened to me,” she says. Not that sharing comes easily to her: “I feel incredible anxiety divulging parts of myself that are very, very intimate, and things that people have never heard or seen from me. But that’s what makes art cool. And if I’m not doing that, then what the fuck am I doing?”
“I feel incredible anxiety divulging parts of myself that are very, very intimate. But that’s what makes art cool. And if I’m not doing that, then what the fuck am I doing?”
Being an open book isn’t for the weak of heart, but it comes with the territory of being an openly queer rock star. “I definitely feel like I’m part of something much bigger than my project,” Bird says. “I keep seeing this term thrown around online that we’re living through a ‘lesbian renaissance’ in music, art, and television.” And Bird is determined to add her voice to the growing chorus. “I feel really proud to be making music at this time, and I’m really proud to call my peers, my peers.”
While lesbian artists like Chappell Roan and boygenius are forces to be reckoned with in 2024, representation was hard to find for a biracial lesbian coming of age in Hong Kong, where her parents met. “When I was growing up, I didn’t have any queer people to look up to—especially lesbians,” Bird says. “So I looked for online spaces, because they felt safe—particularly growing up in Asia where it’s not legal to get married to someone of the same gender.” While she was a late bloomer, Bird is fast growing into the status of role model. “It feels really lovely to be embraced not only by your community—which is wonderful—but also by the mainstream, as well,” she says. She’s even part of a lesbian power couple, but remains respectfully tightlipped about her partner, Mean Girls star and major festival circuit draw Reneé Rapp. “She’s a wonderful artist and a true star, but I’m just hesitant to speak about her when she’s not here.”
“I keep seeing this term thrown around online that we’re living through a ‘lesbian renaissance’ in music, art, and television. I feel really proud to be making music at this time.”
Bird is more vocal about the challenges involved in decamping to America to record her subversively titled debut album. “When I think of the ‘American hero,’ I think of the personification of white, macho, cis man, blonde hair and blue eyes—and that’s clearly not very representative of who I am,” she says. So the songwriter, who initially struggled to acclimatize to her new homeland, turned the idea of an American hero inside out. “Heroes are usually represented by muscle and a very strong exterior,” Bird says. “But I’m representing queer love and a lot of very tender and intimate topics that could maybe make people feel a little uncomfortable. And that creates a new form of heroism—it’s actually heroic to show parts of yourself that are frightening to show others.” That’s when she had an epiphany: “The new American hero is a queer immigrant!” Just like herself.
Wearing that imaginary cape is an ambitious goal for an artist who, initially at least, had modest goals. “I thought I was going to do this as a hobby and get a real job,” she says, referencing the example her hard-working parents gave her. “I don’t think I really let myself believe that I could actually commit to this thing fully until maybe I was at uni.” She never had the typical rock star dream. “I just thought I’d work at a pub and then also have a band, and I’ll be happy.” A future in music only felt attainable when Bird started playing guitar for artists such as Cassyette. “I played for her for a couple of years, so that was my first-ever tour and my first-ever real shows,” she remembers.
“I’m representing queer love and a lot of very tender and intimate topics that could maybe make people feel a little uncomfortable. It’s heroic to show parts of yourself that are frightening to show others.”
Momentum started to build when she devoted herself to social media, where she posted guitar solos and original songs. Other stepping stones included an appearance in Olivia Rodrigo’s 2022 documentary, driving home 2 u and an opening spot for Rapp on her tour. The European leg was particularly meaningful, because it gave Bird the opportunity to finally play live in front of her parents. “They saw me play when I was young,” she says. “I was in a school band the last time they saw me play.” Commanding the presence of an arena was quite an upgrade. “I felt really proud that I could play in front of them, but I was a little nervous, actually.”
Needless to say they were blown away by their “black sheep” daughter—the only musically inclined member of the family. “I’m the only professional creative in my family, but my family are very free thinkers,” she notes. “I don’t really know where it comes from. There’s a stereotype that every Filipino [her mom hails from the Philippines] can sing, but no one can sing. That gene must’ve missed our family.” That is with the exception of Bird herself, who ranks as one of 2024’s buzziest artists.
And the noise around her has only grown louder with the release of American Hero. “I’m really nervous to share it with the world,” she says ahead of the record’s release, “but I also think it’s a good record.” Bird has reason to feel confident about its reception—after all, she road-tested most of the songs in her raucous live set. “It’s one thing to put songs on the internet, you only see comments,” she says. “Playing in front of a live audience, you actually get to see facial reactions.”
Rocking out on stage is where you’ll find Bird for the rest of the year. “The more I can showcase this album through my live show, the better for me,” she says. “I have festivals lined up throughout the summer, and I’m going on tour.” Bird will also pencil in some time to complete her sophomore set of songs. “I’ve already started writing for the second project, so I’m definitely going to get on that.” FL
