In Christeene’s world, we’d have fewer video calls and more good sex. The performance artist – a self-proclaimed “drag terrorist” – unleashes an unfiltered and filthy combination of throbbing electronic music and between-song patter, whether performing at London’s Barbican or in a dive bar. She looks a bit like a lost swamp creature, all ripped clothes and smudges of kohl. This is not the high femme, precisely arched brow of RuPaul’s Drag Race. In fact, Christeene bristles against being called a drag queen at all. “I find it very hard and very cheap to have that label put on me,” she says in her languid, southern drawl. Instead, Paul Soileau has used Christeene as a vessel for both rage and humour for more than a decade.
She is known for kicking off about celebrity culture, the religious right, and hyper-consumerism. “There’s so much to talk about,” especially as another recession looms and political polarisation solidifies. As Christeene prepares to release her album Midnite Fukk Train, she shared a few life lessons (over Zoom) distilled from years as an outspoken queer performer. Consider it her guide to modern life.
