Leather Lungs: Yas Queen!
Jason Chasland a.k.a. Leather Lungs
A homage to the musical royalty who sung the soundtrack to his life, Leather Lungs: Yas Queen! is a rocky journey through that most uplifting and painful of human emotions; love. Love for others, but also for one’s self. From respect to kinks to vulnerability, Jason Chasland belts out ballads by some of the greatest vocal talents of the 60s, 70s, and 80s, from Aretha Franklin and Bette Medler to Freddie Mercury and Prince.
Chasland is admittedly nervous on opening night, and unfortunately, in addition to issues with sound levels, it affects his performance, as certain off-the-cuff mumblings are awkwardly lost, and pitch is occasionally shakey, especially in Bohemian Rhapsody. But he’s also a born performer. In addition to his incredible vocal power and range of tonal qualities, which alone is worth the price of a ticket, Chasland has a quick and mischievous wit that entertains throughout.
But banter alone is not enough. As Chasland, gets more personal, and drops two potentially triggering bombshells, he continues to flippantly and forcibly segue into the next number. It’s frustrating, because they are important stories that need to be heard on stage for both the queer and straight communities, but at the moment, they’re little more than anecdotes. Art does not need to provide answers and, if anything, should only seek to raise questions, but it should attempt to conclude the story it tells, even if the conclusion is that there is none.
The problem is, I saw all this two years ago in Leather Lungs: Son of a Preacher. Not the set list, of course, which includes a tear-inducing rendition of Can’t Help Falling In Love, but the deviance, the riffs, the vocal affectations – there was nothing new. As an artist, it’s important to challenge both your audience and yourself. This doesn’t mean a drastic change in form, style, delivery, or even content, or that those who appreciate your work won’t enjoy a repetitious back catalogue, but to progress – to evolve – is the only way for art to be a true reflection of the human condition. People are always growing, so too should their art.