The term “self-congruity” is used by psychologists to describe the idea that music listeners gravitate to the artists whose personality traits are assumed to match one’s own. In their debut book, “I Sing To Use The Waiting” (an Emily Dickinson quote), Pace, who began identifying as non-binary in 2022, collects various essays written over the years explaining how it is that female-identifying singers have not only cultivated their own personalities, but have also provided Pace with comfort in a world that would rather ask someone to conform to the already established rules of gender and identity.
Pace writes about Madonna, who provided a form of spiritual guidance in their life, the “otherworldly” sounds of Cat Power, whose catalog and live performances they profess an encyclopedic knowledge of, and Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon — the epitome of cool. Other essays in this semi-autobiographical work center on Rihanna, Cher, Frances Quinlan and Whitney Houston.
At times these essays exhibit Pace’s fortitude: a confident writer revealing their vulnerability and strengths through their favorite artists. Other times Pace provides us with biographical and occasionally uncomfortable details about these artists, such as Cher’s struggles with homophobia during her son Chaz’s transition, as well as Whitney Houston’s descent into a dark world of drug use. But mainly, these essays explore these women’s work and what they mean to Pace’s life, through their upbringing in rural New York to their life as an openly non-binary writer.
There are moments where “I Sing To Use The Waiting” felt redundant and out of sync with many of the essay’s themes. Moments where I said “I don’t care,” or asked “Why are you telling me this?” The dips into Freud’s writings or Madonna’s interest in the Kabbalah, for example, shifted away from the personal experiences that Pace otherwise, and wonderfully, hones in on.
These sections are balanced out by the “please, tell me more” aspects of their fandom and the music these artists perform — this is where Pace’s writing is genuine (including one chapter of poetry).
Yet, there is more to the book than just ruminations on Pace’s favorite artists, as they engage in a dialogue of what non-binary identity entails, shifting Pace’s writing into a form of safety, and one that I was happy to engage with, because their words on their favorite artists led me to realize that was the first book I had ever read that shared the vulnerability of a non-binary identity. And, I must say, it is a welcomed addition to my collection.
The practice of misgendering is more common than many would admit. Even when we assume we are being innocuous, we are still stripping a person bare, stripping them of the respect they are asking for — and who they really are.
Pace eases us into uncomfortable aspects of the conversation around gendering in a manner that is not disrespectful or condescending. It is a welcoming dimension to their writing that allows us to not only better understand their world, but also the personal struggles related to this aspect of their life.
It is music that enabled Pace to find comfort in their identity, and it is their writing about music that provides readers an entryway into their world. As they say in their strong, affirming poetic voice, “Language isn’t a virus, language is a remedy.”
Through their words in “I Sing To Use The Waiting,” Pace allows us to step into their world for a brief moment of time and heal with them.
Edward Banchs is a freelance writer, author and independent scholar based in Pittsburgh. His latest book is “Scream for Me, Africa!: Heavy Metal Identities in Post-Colonial Africa.”
First Published: January 21, 2024, 10:30 a.m.