Molly Grace could make a lover girl out of the toughest critic.
Fresh off the fall release and headline tour of her debut album, “Blush,” the Boston-born pop darling brought her pride party back to the city where it all began for the second stop of Lovergirls: A Sapphic Soirée. The six-date Pride Month tour showcased what Molly does best: creating a glitter-soaked celebration of connection, self-expression and unapologetic queer joy, surrounded by her backup “lover girls” and a crowd that has shown up for her since day one.
To be clear, Molly Grace doesn’t just perform — she throws a party. With a setlist built around her grooviest upbeat hits, audiences are invited into a world of hyperfeminine glamor. Think pink on pink on pink, tousled curls, sequins dancing in the disco ball’s light, radiance down to the last detail. The spirit of “Blush” pulsed through the show, capturing the whole spectrum of feelings that the word implies: embarrassment, flirtation, lust, romance and everything in between. Molly’s infectious charisma and powerhouse vocals inject every number with a larger-than-life theatricality, yet she never loses the magnetic warmth that can make a packed venue feel like a room full of friends.
The following interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Her Campus Northeastern: A six-date tour during Pride Month feels very intentional. Where did the decision for this leg come from, and what do you hope audiences take away from these shows?
Molly Grace: Honestly, I’m in between projects right now, so it’s a funny time — it’s not really the moment for a big album tour, but I love touring, and that’s where my music shines the most. I’m also writing a lot of new music, so this tour was born to connect with my fans in person and test out some new material. With it being Pride Month, I wanted to create a space that was my own little pride parade and pride party, because I love going to those. I was like, wait, what if I just make one?
You grew up in New England, and you’re back in Boston for the second date of the tour. Its influence shines through in your work, like “Red Line.” What about this city makes it such a powerful muse?
I love coming home. All my family is still here. I think Boston has such grit — the people are good people who work hard and show up, since my very first tour. Very fun, very engaged audiences. I always make sure to make my way back to Boston because it’s a reminder of where I came from and how I started my career. I feel like I’m giving back to a community that has given a lot to me.
Queer joy is at the core of your artistry, but that concept has been increasingly complicated by shifting rhetoric and public support. Where do you go to refuel that joy if it’s ever depleted?
Living in Tennessee for the last few years, with a government that is not supportive, queer people in the South have given me a lot of hope. It’s so brave to be queer and have community down there; there’s something really special about that. The resistance from the outside just makes me want to find moments like that more. When people ask what advice I have for young queer people, my answer is always the same: Find community in person. The media narratives and rhetoric are designed to make you feel isolated or weird or like you’re doing something wrong. When you’re in person, you start to feel like, no, we’re all here, we all look different, everyone’s expressing themselves in a different way and nobody cares. Those in-person moments are what fuel me and keep my eye on the prize.
Your hit single “F.E.M.M.E” took the internet by storm and spoke to the assumptions people project onto feminine-presenting queer women. Walk me through that.
Being a femme lesbian is rooted in the protection of butches and other members of the lesbian community who don’t have the privilege of being “straight-passing.” I love this hyper-feminine expression that in no way centers the male gaze. People are so quick to say, “Maybe you’re just bi,” or “You haven’t figured it out yet,” or “That one right guy is coming along.” Nobody would ever say that to an “obviously” gay woman, whatever that means. Nobody questions gay men in that way. The crux of the song is: Tune out the noise. You’ll hear it from both sides, but no matter what the norms are on the outside, walk in your identity and know it is untouchable.
You’ve collaborated with other queer women in the pop scene, like Maris and Meg Smith. The chemistry shows. What does it mean to find that sense of community in an industry that often pits women against each other?
Oh my God, it is everything. All of us own our queerness in our artistry. Something I often hear is that you don’t want to pigeonhole yourself in this industry, like, okay, you can be queer, but make it palatable. Being with other women who are coming up and wearing who they are on their sleeves is so cool. We commiserate together and can be like, “Are you really struggling with this too?” while also taking the time to celebrate each other. It’s really special because what we’re doing is such a unique experience. I’m very grateful for that.
In the past, you’ve partnered with LIFEBEAT and the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, and you’re teaming up with LGBTQ+ organizations across the country on this tour. What draws you to this cause, and how do you navigate being vocal when it can come with backlash?
It comes so easily to me, honestly. It’s a very simple choice to support these organizations that are so good at what they do. Particularly with HIV and AIDS awareness, there’s such a strong stigma. It was devastating for the queer community in the ‘80s and, in reality, that was recent. Having conversations surrounding sexual health, especially within the queer community, matters a lot to me. It’s an easy choice to build these partnerships into tours because it rounds out the experience. You get good music, and you party with a cause.
You released your debut album, “Blush,” last fall. How has it felt watching audiences respond to it? Has it come to life as you envisioned, or taken on new meaning as it sits with fans?
I love “Blush” so much. My goal with my baby record was to have a piece of work that feels like an authentic answer to “Who is Molly?” As I sit with it, I feel like it really achieved that. It’s funny, it’s flirty, very true to me. It plays with some R&B, disco, funk, which is my bread and butter. As we’ve performed it, it’s been cool to see which songs take on a life of their own. Songs like “Lemonade” weren’t singles, but audiences latched onto them. “Say When” wasn’t a single either, but it became one after the album was released because it was such a hit on tour. That’s the cool part of playing recorded songs live: You get to watch them blossom with an audience.
Which songs from the album do you feel are underrated?
“Call It Quits” is slept on! The public needs to get on that. Molly Grace fans know, but the gen pop needs to tune in.
Your live performances are known for being very theatrical, very charismatic, very high-energy. Where does that confident persona come from? Is it being a retired theater kid?
Oh, so the answer is yes. I really do credit being a theater kid. I also did improv in high school, which is so nerdy, but it gave me such a gift throughout the rest of my life, which is being able to not take myself so seriously and riff a little. So many times in improv, you make a joke, and it’s not funny, and you move on! That helps me a lot on stage — if I don’t hit a note exactly right, it’s like, alright, whatever, we got it out. It’s the water-off-a-duck’s-back of it all.
Your sound pulls from a lot of influences. You’ve been compared to Chappell Roan, cited Remi Wolf and Prince as inspirations and drawn imagery from “But I’m a Cheerleader.” What media shaped you growing up, and what creatives are you currently looking at?
Growing up, I loved Michael Jackson. Lots of MJ in the house. My parents were always playing a bunch of different kinds of music. My family loves country, rock, musical theater, pop, Laurel Canyon singer-songwriter stuff, so I grew up with a diverse playlist, which gave me an appreciation for genre-bending.
I also grew up on musicals — “Hairspray,” “Grease,” “Wicked,” “Rent” — and I call back to them a lot, especially “Hairspray” when thinking about visuals, since I love the ’60s and that Motown era. For inspiration right now, I love Raye and Sabrina Carpenter. I find both of them to be very unconventional. In the pop world, there can be pressure to be formulaic. Raye plays a lot with form, with huge vocal and orchestral arrangements, no rules. And Sabrina’s out here saying, “I hope you get agoraphobia.” It’s a reminder to learn and respect the rules of songwriting, but also to break them. Let your personality and love of music shine through. Don’t be afraid to get a little weird.
You’ve been signed, played festivals, opened for other artists, done headline tours, all before 25. What’s one thing you learned during this journey that you wish someone had told you earlier?
Ooh. There is no rush. I’m very ambitious, and I love music, so I love to be busy all the time. There’s value in pushing yourself to keep creating, but I’m also learning the value of slowing down and taking the time to make intentional work. People say it takes 10 years to become an overnight success, and I’m early in those 10 years. So, learning to be present in the creation.
Many of our readers and writers are college-aged women in a tumultuous season of self-discovery — navigating identity, ambition, who they want to be. What advice would you give that version of yourself, and other women trying to figure out who they are while making a name for themselves?
Let go of embarrassment and shame. In every industry, closed mouths don’t get fed. There are parts of me that don’t want to reach out to an artist I love or go out on a limb, because I want to play it cool. But there’s something really wonderful about being earnest and voicing when you think someone is doing something great, being excited about the things happening to you. Allow yourself to be excited. Allow yourself to want more and ask for more without feeling like you’re taking up too much space.
You’ve been putting out music for over five years now. If your current era were a chapter in the book of your life, what would you title it?
“She’s Cooking.” I feel like I’m in the Crock-Pot right now. I’m developing flavor.
Rapid fire — how would you describe being in love in one word?
Oh, my God. Glow.
Give me your music Mount Rushmore. Top four albums of all time?
Oh, girl. Okay. “Off the Wall,” Michael Jackson. “Positions,” Ariana Grande. “1989,” Taylor Swift. And, maybe recency bias, but “Short n’ Sweet.”
You share a lot of DNA with drag culture. Favorite drag queen, and your own drag name?
I’ll give a theater kid’s answer: Jinkx Monsoon. My drag name? Let’s say, Ana Phylaxis.
Dream collaboration?
I want a Doechii feature.
Final question: Any pre-show rituals or must-have artists on your pre-show playlist?
I must listen to some Lady Gaga and some Doechii. I like to do my stretches and vocal warm-ups. Doing my makeup is somewhat of a ritual too. It’s very therapeutic for me to do my beat. It feels like I’m putting on my superhero suit.
Listen to Molly Grace below: