Pop music has historically been dismissed as an unserious genre, but in recent years, its glossy surface has given way to emotional complexity and experimental edge, led in large part by queer women pushing its boundaries. Among them is Portsmouth-raised singer, songwriter, and producer Jessica Winter, whose long-overdue moment is finally arriving.
Born with a condition that required multiple hip surgeries, Winter spent much of her childhood in and out of hospital. By the age of two, her legs were immobilised in a wide split, and recovery meant months in back braces and casts. Her mum, looking for any way to keep her entertained, placed her in front of the piano. It was there that she first began to experiment with sound. Music wasn’t just a toy or a pastime; it was the beginning of a lifelong escape.
Leaning into punk, 80s synths and high-octave vocals, Winter’s music is a pop bonfire: maximalist, genre-melding sounds feel like it was born from chaos. With sardonic humour and a flair for spectacle, Winter turns trauma into theatre, heartbreak into hooks.
Her debut My First Album – titled firmly tongue-in-cheek – is not so much an introduction as it is a reclamation of autonomy, artistry, and of self. It’s a record shaped by a deep love of pantomime, and a refusal to be anyone but herself. Winter has lived many lives: squats in Portsmouth, punk bands in her teens, brushes with Scientology, and a years-long fight to be taken seriously as a woman in music.
Ahead of its release this July, Winter will take to the GAY Times stage at SXSW. We caught up to talk about pop, pain, and what it really means to marry yourself.
"I hope to make people feel okay about being unwell and fabulous"
What role does music play in your life?
It’s my way of connecting to myself and to others. It helps me find clarity in my compulsive brain. I tune out the chaos around me and find peace sometimes for a few minutes sometimes for hours.
Who are your influences, both in and out of music?
In music, I’d say, Kate Bush, Nine Inch Nails, The Knife, Kylie, Scissor Sisters. Outside of music, Leigh Bowery, Frida Kahlo, David Lynch and Therapy!
How do you want your music to make people feel?
Like they aren’t alone in the chaos. My music reaches into some of my darkest, weirdest and most fractured moments and instead of hiding it, I glorify it and I hope that for anyone else going through something like that, they can feel seen. Someone said to me, “You sing the way I think when I’m spiralling.” I hope to make people feel okay about being unwell and fabulous.
What has been the biggest push and challenge in your career so far?
Releasing this album is both of those, I’ve had to deal with all my insecurities and embrace the chaos that comes with releasing an album. It’s only just starting and I can already tell I’m being challenged in ways I’ve never fully had to have been before. I’m so grateful for all that’s happening already.
What should we expect from your SXSW set?
A raw theatrical exorcism.
Why do you think it is important for there to be queer artists at SXSW?
It’s scary to be queer right now, anti-queer people have found their voice and are being listened to, laws are changing, people that probably didn’t have an opinion on queers at all a few years ago, definitely have one now and the aggression and the hate have intensified. Now more than ever queer people also need their voices heard and no matter how big or small, a platform is a platform and so we shall represent them wherever possible. Queers will not be silenced.
Are there any other queer artists who inspire you?
Dusty Springfield, Freddie Mercury, Chappel Roan, Frank Ocean, Rebecca Black, Pet Shop Boys and Divine.
