After a shift in gender identity, Cliks' Silveira finds new freedom in rock 'n' roll
AUSTIN, Texas -- Halfway through his band's set at Momo's here last month, Lucas Silveira had an asthma attack. He was struggling for air, which is a major impediment to rocking, and not rocking would have defeated the purpose of bringing his band, the Cliks, all the way from Toronto to Texas for the South by Southwest music festival. Happily, an alert festival volunteer located an inhaler and ran it up onto the stage. A few puffs later Silveira was back at the mike, wild-eyed, full-throated, and even more intense than before he nearly stopped breathing.
Adversity builds character. It's been the source of not a few killer tunes. In Silveira's case, adversity has been nothing short of transformational. The day before the Momo's gig he was splayed on a couch in a hotel lounge, analyzing the confluence of events that has led to this fine musical moment. Some of his experiences, like a great love affair and painful split, are familiar to anyone with a beating heart. Others may not be familiar at all, like living your whole life feeling unsure if you're a boy or a girl.
"What spurred the songwriting for this new album was a big breakup," says Silveira, who brings the Cliks to T.T. the Bear's Place next Thursday. "But beyond the fact of coming out of a relationship I felt very settled in, I had become completely aware of the fact that I'm transgendered. A lot of the music came out of that confusion, and going to a place that was not so nice, but coming out the other side, being able to climb out of a hole and do what I had to do."
The songs on "Snakehouse," which comes out next Tuesday, brim with urgency and fortitude. Rhythms are primal, riffs are sinuous, and Silveira sounds invincible. "Oh yeah oh yeah I've fallen down/But I can get up," he sings on "Oh Yeah," and you can actually hear him swagger. He wrote the song two years ago, right about the time Lillia Silveira changed her name to Lucas. It was more forceful and more passionate than anything he'd done in the past. Looking back, Silveira realizes that as his gender identity shifted, so did his musical identity.
"People can see through anything," Silveira says. "I think when you hide, whether it's purposely or subconsciously, people can see that. I came to a very real place in myself and I think that being in touch with who I was made me create some of the best music I've created."
Rosie Lopez, head of A&R for Tommy Boy Entertainment, first heard the Cliks in 2004. She liked the band, but didn't fall in love. Two years later Cyndi Lauper's manager sent her the track "Oh Yeah."
"I was like, 'My God. It sounds like a whole different band. ' "
Lopez signed the Cliks in January, and she concedes that the fact that Silveira is transgendered is both a compelling back story and a significant marketing challenge. The band's audience up to now has been largely gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered, and in June the Cliks will join Lauper, Debbie Harry, Erasure, and the Dresden Dolls on the True Colors tour, designed to raise awareness of issues facing those communities. But both the band and the label are dedicated to broadening the Cliks' fanbase.
"I'm learning what it's like to work with someone who doesn't fit into a box, and realizing how much people need boxes," says Lopez. "The best thing we can do is put it out there and let people decide on their own. So far we're getting as much attention from the rock press as we are from the gay press. But this isn't going to be easy. They're going to encounter some resistance. At the same time something magical is going on, and it has everything to do with Lucas being centered and comfortable."
Silveira blurs the line between male and female. Gay men, straight women, and lesbians flirt with him at shows. The band's MySpace friends include punky kids, middle-aged New York Dolls fans, and Joan Jett. Silveira's had what's known as top surgery but has no plans to further alter his anatomy. His energy onstage transcends stereotypical notions of gender, but then rock music has always been a safe haven for outsiders.
"I remember seeing the cover of 'Ziggy Stardust' and going 'I know that's a boy but he looks kind of like a girl,' and Chrissie Hynde wearing jeans and playing guitar, and somebody like Debbie Harry who had this very feminine yet masculine vibe to her," says Silveira. "All these things that confused me, they made me feel really thrilled. I always took my cues from music. Nina, my guitarist, was just saying 'Rock 'n' roll is your freedom card. You can be whoever you want to be.' "
Silveira is clear-eyed. He knows that right now his story is as much a selling point as his music. More important, his story and his music are inextricably bound.
"The songs are an extension of what you become as a person," he says. "But it's interesting, because I find that the stronger I get as a songwriter the stronger I become as a person. I feel so liberated when I'm onstage now. I think there's something really sexy about feeling comfortable in your own skin."