FANGIRL Online: MUNA proves why your favorite band absolutely should be gay
Anyone who talks to me for more than five minutes knows that 1) I love MUNA and 2) I’ve loved them for a really long time. In the middle of 2016 “Winterbreak” came up as a Spotify recommendation and I didn’t skip it because another artist I was a fan of had posted about them a couple of times. It blew my mind. At this point in time they had four songs on streaming and their debut album had not even been announced. In February 2017 when About U dropped it altered the course of my entire life, and I would go on to preach about it like it was the bible to anyone who would listen (few did, those who did immediately understood). Nearly ten years since its release, it continues to be a life-defining album for me.

Over the last decade, I’ve seen MUNA release four albums and have seen them live several times - headlining shows to hundreds then to thousands, in stadiums opening for Taylor Swift, and at festivals. What I’m really supposed to be talking about here though is their show at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in Toronto the other week in support of their new album Dancing on the Wall, but I can’t talk about anything related to this band without including a million personal anecdotes. I left the show realizing that it was the first time I was able to fully absorb how MUNA has evolved as a band in recent years. They’re a band that have always felt like they’re exactly where they’re supposed to be, and their progression has felt so natural it’s difficult to notice if you’re not actively looking back several years.
MUNA have absolutely mastered the art of an emotional and hot and fun and celebratory pop show, thanks to both their discography and their unflinching belief in themselves as a band. They know that they’re great (they have repeatedly declared themselves the greatest band in the world), they clearly love the band they’re in and the music they’re making (Jo in particular is the band’s personal hypeman throughout their shows), but they also don’t take themselves too seriously - see: their extended bantering about a squirrel in the venue during soundcheck earlier that day before playing Kind of Girl, where they changed the lyrics to Kind of Squirrel.

Dancing on the Wall is an album that truly shines live. It’s sexy and it’s danceable and it’s truly meant to be sung along to. The album’s title track has one of the greatest pop choruses I have ever heard and it truly kicked the show into gear. Big Stick is an incredibly heavy-handed protest song that manages to work incredibly well regardless, and its message is doubled down on with the lyrics projected on the stage screen throughout the song for those uninitiated. The bridge to Eastside Girls has been described as a “gay We Didn’t Start The Fire” and there’s nothing like being in a room with 2500 gay people all screaming “FUCK SHE’S NON MONOGAMOUS!”
The first time I saw MUNA was at the Mod Club in Toronto in 2019. I lined up all day and cried nearly continuously from the moment I got in the venue until the show ended. That venue holds about 650 people. Now at a sold out venue four times that size I got to witness others have the exact same experience I had seven years ago. In the words of their Coachella billboard: You might not be gay but your favourite band should be. And that’s why everyone should listen to MUNA.







