Gay & Mormon: The Music of Hive Riot

Hive Riot

So my friend Nikki referred me to the band Hive Riot.  I had never heard of them before, but I downloaded it.  On the first listen, I wasn't that impressed.  It seemed generic.  Definitely synth pop taking a page from '80s artists like Erasure, Yaz, or Vince Clarke-era Depeche Mode.  But that's not unusual in this day and age.  Many artists nowadays are paying homage to the golden age of the synthesizer, many bands I have reviewed on this site.  Like Chvrches.  In fact, this band really reminds me of Chvrches.

But my second listen, I was hooked, lined, and sinkered.  There is no describing how much I love this album.  It speaks to me on so many levels and has worth on its own merits.  But as I did research on this band, I discovered a bit of their history that was startling.

They are Mormon, just like me,  Okay, well, not just like me.  I'm a fundamentalist, and they're not.  But we all hail from the mainstream LDS Church.

I was listening to the song "Pourquoi?" which is a short piece set to an accordion with Dusty Gledhill having a conversation in French.  Since I speak French fairly well, my ears perked up.  He is answering a question asked to him of why he likes men.  He doesn't know and has wondered that for a while.  He sought help, but it didn't work.  He was engaged to a pretty woman who he wrote to while he was on his mission in Quebec, but he broke it off because he was afraid of having to leave her for another man.  He states, "Alors, pourquoi j'aime les hommes?  J'ai aucune idee.  Et vous?  Pourquoi vous aimez les femmes?"  Or:  "So, why do I like men?  I have no idea.  And you?  Why do you like women?"

Hive Riot is a duo consisting of Dusty Gledhill, a classically-trained pianist, and his sister-in-law, Mindy Gledhill, a Mormon inspirational singer-songwriter.  Mindy, based out of Utah, studied music at BYU and has put out a few albums, her music fairly well-known in Mormon culture, and she has also performed a few singles with house music artist, Kaskade (who is also Mormon).

Dusty spent his youth as a closeted, gay Mormon.  He dated girls, but struggled with his feelings.  Even while serving a mission in Quebec, he would try to fight back these feelings through guilt and prayer, and, upon returning to Utah, he underwent conversion therapy, all while attending the music program at BYU.  This conflict caused him to become suicidal, and, when someone threatened to turn him in to the school authorities, he left BYU, he left Utah.  Away from the land of Zion, he found the courage to come out, and he left the LDS Church.  He settled in New York where he is still a doctoral candidate at Juilliard.

You can listen to the whole story of Dusty and Mindy at John Dehlin's controversial Mormon Stories.

The thing that resonated with me was that both of them had said that Dusty's issue was something that the family never discussed.  It was ignored, even when Mindy tried to confront Dusty.  Family members wouldn't talk about it, and, even when he came out, he was shunned rather than faced.

This speaks volumes of Mormon society.  We are a repressed people.  Studies have been shown that demonstrate that we are a passive-aggressive people.  We beat around the bush, sweep things under the rug, and generally avoid confronting problems.  This is why gay marriage - as well as polygamy - are topics that most Mormons would rather not talk about and make them very uncomfortable.  I think that open dialogue is the best way to get through these things.

I was raised in the LDS Church, and so it is safe to say that I was raised fairly anti-gay.  Although all through my teens, I had many close gay friends.  It's kind of hard to be punk/ mod/ gothic without coming across a few gay people.  Most of the dance clubs I went to were largely attended by gay people.  So, on one hand, I was taught doctrinally that homosexuality was wrong, and on the other hand I was friends with many of them.  Truthfully, this is a weird dichotomy that I still face.  I am not sure how to reconcile everything quite yet, and I have more questions than I do answers.  I have passed life in a sort of cognitive dissonance.

A couple of things changed the way I viewed things.  First, I lived as a polygamist for thirteen years.  Like many gay people, I faced disapproval, funny stares from people who think they know you, false rumors about how many wives I had, relatives shunning you, discrimination directed at my kids at school, etc.  I know what it is like to be hated for your lifestyle.  In addition, the topics of gay marriage and polygamy became strange bedfellows (although platonic bedfellows).  The fate of legalized polygamy has been inextricably connected to that of gay marriage.  The Marriage Equality Act was a blessing to, not just the LGBTQ crowd, but to polygamists as well; it set us on the road to decriminalization.

Second, I unexpectedly had a younger brother come out of the closet.  What was I supposed to do?  Not love him anymore?  Stop speaking to him?  I couldn't do that.  He's my brother, and I love him.  It got me to thinking.  My brother was born gay.  I know that.  I've known him my whole life, and, in retrospect, I could see it.  What does God want of people who are born gay?  Does he expect them to spend their existence alone?  I have known many gay men who have struggled in the LDS Church, trying to suppress their feelings.  Are they doomed to live celibate?

I don't know all of the answer to these questions.  I mean, I am not going to seal anyone in a gay marriage.  But would I stand by a friend participating in a gay marriage?  Hell yes.  I had a friend once ask me how I could support gay marriage, seeing that I am religious.  I answered, "Because, in my mind, I can separate religious dogma from civil liberties."  I am a true libertarian.  I don't care if people are gay or get married.  It doesn't hurt me.  That doesn't mean that I am gay.  But as a polygamist, it would be disingenuous of me to clamor for my personal rights while putting down the rights of someone else.  At the very least, we can be civil, loving, and kind, and trust that, if there is a problem, that God will sort it out.  Not us.

This openness towards gay people has not made me friends in the world of polygamy.  My tolerant view has run counter to what many Mormon fundamentalists believe.

And these are the thoughts that come to mind when I listen to Hive Riot.  Many of these themes are found in their songs, like "Undercover", a song about having to hide and coming out.  Both of the Gledhills share vocal duties on this.  The song starts out subdued and gradually picks up pace.  But it is the emotion, their ability to express feeling that makes this song so exquisite, my favorite selection on the album.  The slow-tempo of "Fish Out of Water" also reflects this theme.  "Catch That Train" has a lilting Chvrches feel to it.  "Kiss My Lips You Fool" is an OMD-like anthem about a first kiss.  "Sherlock" will have your feet tapping to the French rap, and "So I Dance" has lovely celestial chimes that scintillate brightly to the backdrop of Mindy's angelic voice.  The album finishes out with "Her Elegy", a beautiful piano ballad.

This album is a beautiful start for Hive Riot, and now, knowing their history, I can say, this is our music.  We Mormons have a lot of kinks to work out.  We have a lot of dark history behind us, but Hive Riot have been beautifully vocal and unapologetic about some of these issues.  We need to sing it out, get it out of our systems, talk about it.  And this is proof that, in spite of everything, we can still produce something beautiful.  Well done, guys!