“The whole point is, I am my own. I am my marriage. I am this. I am all of that”
BY ANDRÉA OLDEREIDE, IMAGE BY ASHLEA CAYGILL
Meet Sir Jude: a “certified witch” who brought her angelic voice and hypnotizing melodies all the way from Melbourne, Australia to London’s queer music scene. Sir Jude landed in the UK just two years ago but has already used her voice to uplift LGBTQIA spaces, and is for the first time opening up about her queer identity, just in time for Bisexual Visibility Month.
How did you become “Sir Jude”?
I was listening to a lot of St Vincent and some other artists at the time, and I loved how misleading names could be, and how the person behind it really leaned into the character of their name. Putting Sir at the front of Jude, made me feel really powerful, which I hadn’t otherwise felt. It feels regal and strong. And it’s exactly how I feel when I play under that name. In the very beginning, I inserted a little bit more of myself into a whole Sir Jude. And then over time, it’s just become this, like, character.
Why did you leave Australia?
I love Melbourne so much. I miss Melbourne. [But] I love London. I think it’s just quenching my thirst in a different sort of way. From a really, really young age, I always saw myself living overseas. It was always, this is one thing I wanted to do for myself for a long, long time. I’ve always loved Europe, I love the proximity of Europe.
You’re also closer to your country of origin, Italy. Do you speak Italian?
I like to practice Italian on Duolingo. My grandmother doesn’t speak much English. She understands it very well. I mean, she’s been in Australia for like, 50 years. But when people immigrated over, a lot of the time, they kept within their owncommunities. When I was at home as a little kid, I spent lots of time with my grandparents. They spoke [Italian] to me in a Sicilian dialect.
Would you ever sing in Italian?
Yeah, I would love to. I would love to write music in Italian. I did attempt because I was connected with a few writers in Italy, who I really loved working with, but it never really came to fruition. I grew up with a really heavy Italian influence. I think it sets your adolescence and your cultural experience apart.
How?
You know, old Catholic traditions that kind of stick with you growing up, which I honestly love to lean into as an artist. Aesthetically Catholicism is gorgeous, it is beautiful. I think I love to lean on those experiences, because not only do they make me who I am, but I’ve been able to build my artistic voice from that and from the struggles of that regime. There are a lot of revelations, and the revelations at the core of it are literally about Catholic guilt and internalized misogyny.
Is this what your 2022 Revelations album is about?
Yeah. There’s a lot of beauty and ornate images within the culture that I grew up in and within Catholic imagery. I did my communion, I did my confirmation, I did all the things.
How did you go from Catholic Italian girl to witch, well, certified witch?
Well, I know I put that [in my Instagram bio]. I feel like it’s quite misleading because I’m not actually certified as a witch. I certified myself. I definitely have witchy vibes. My nonna tells me a lot of stories about her mother. People would call her a witch in the town, but it was like a lot of remedial stuff. My nonna got these beautiful stories of things that happened when she was growing up, seeing weird stuff and making remedies. I’m not wearing my chilli today, but I’m usually wearing a chilli. I think the biggest turning point for me, when I really started to resent [religion] is when I kind of wanted to reclaim a lot of traumatic experiences that I had and separate myself from feeling these pressures or expectations around what I had to be. A lot of things central to Catholicism is sacrifice and marriage is your final one. I just felt this heavy expectation growing up, that I had to live that life. [Now] I really do believe in manifestation and self-love and how the universe got your back. [But] I am very witchy. My values are quite witchy. I place a lot of importance on good karma and good energy. I’m very much into energy input versus energy output at the moment. In terms of rituals and things like that, I journal every day, at least I try to.
Now that you’re fully integrated in London, what made you want to perform at the first Queer Edge Live show and be part of the LGBTQIA scene?
The new project I’m working on is called Venus Hotel, and the centre of that EP is queer experience. I leant into a lot about what Revelations was. [Revelations] was about trying to figure out how to escape tradition and figure out who I was in that environment. Then I thought about what comes next. The artwork of Revelations is like a bridal party. So it’s like the bride, the groom, and then this side [woman], I am every character. The whole point is, I am my own. I am my marriage. I am this. I am all of that. I am, whatever I want to be, and I will love whoever I want to love, and it doesn’t have to fit within this binary concept. And if you look at the back of the album, it’s pink and blue, so it’s like the bi flag.
Do you identify as bi?
Yeah, I do, which I don’t usually say publicly, but I’ve never really known someone’s ever actually, really asked me to be honest. So, I kind of have that in the background [of Revelations’ album]. Also, that colour scheme was absolutely accidental. Revelations is in my mind, like a mansion, and that’s like, the whole discovery of who I am. And if you hear [my 2024 single] Spare Me, I’m doing it like a connecting song. The next phase is all about the queer experience. It’s all about accepting every single part of myself, even the worst parts, and amplifying them at times like 10 and beyond. If you listen to Spare Me, there’s a part of the song where you can hear the kick, and it almost feels like you’re hearing a kick travel through the bottom of the floorboards, which is what I wanted to create. The next bit is like the basement [of Revelations’ mansion], and what happens in the basement, in this hidden place people go to find themselves, it’s kind of taboo. The basement is Venus Hotel. It’s where the real party is. It’s a very Rocky Horror Picture Show that meets Romeo and Juliet.
When did you realise that you were queer?
I mean, probably, quite young, but I never really thought of it. I never really had a specific label on it. I just knew that I would just follow the feeling. I think there was still a lot of shame attached to it. This is like me speaking very candidly about it, but I do struggle as well. Just within the bi community, there’s a whole thing about validation. I’m working on that a lot. Sometimes it feels like you’re not queer enough and you hide parts of yourself, but at the end of the day, it’s no one’s f*****g business. I even questioned doing this magazine because I was like, I don’t think I am queer enough for this. I don’t want to present myself as an imposter or, like, a spokesperson for the community. I shouldn’t feel like that, and I shouldn’t have to hide that part of myself.
DIVA magazine celebrates 30 years in print in 2024. If you like what we do, then get behind LGBTQIA media and keep us going for another generation. Your support is invaluable.
