The Glamour and Gore of Horror-monal Punk Princess, Celeste X

Arts

Oct 25

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Previously known by the name “Celeste XXX”, any search bar is bound for a steep wormhole of porn, porn, porn. Inspired by derivative retrosexual fantasties, garnished in the negligee fashions of previous decades, synth vamp Celeste X is better found on Spotify, Bandcamp and Soundcloud. On Google images, you can spot her placed amongst glorious smut stars of yore in similar suggestive poses but covered in blood, microphone in hand, a most distressed expression amongst all the standard imagery supposed to stoke certain desires. Celeste X, the artist, may be controversial to some but cloaked in the mystery of a bitch’s brew, she is at worship of the dark femme, hexed together with snarls, sorrows and ice cold electronics.

From nearby Cerritos, Celeste moved to the City of Angels to carve her own nook, despite lack of experience, and discouragement from entering, an artistic field. To create amidst an extremely sheltered upbringing, protected by her financial-stability-obsessed Filipino mom from even visiting friends’ houses or going to the mall without an adult, the migration to LA represented a new liberation. “I felt like music, art and pop culture were all I had to create this reality in my head to cope,” Celeste reminiscences. “It's tough being an artist and a female one at that. This whole taboo about being a working artist and pursuing music just fueled me with so much angst and rage, it nearly felt impossible to control my creative impulses.”

Frontwomen like Siouxsie Sioux, Cosey Fanni Tutti and Lydia Lunch fueled her as “a power force and major influence to who I am as a performer” and carving forth, Celeste X conjured her own resources with fury, explaining, “I know a lot of people make these excuses for not making music or pursuing their creative projects, ‘I'm not ___ enough’ or ‘I don't know how to play an instrument’. I didn't either! I think it's really important to just use what is available to you and exercise confidence to go against the grind”.

As a project, the songs are wielded with an intense fire, based on instinctive feeling, layered with synth pads, tones and melodies, assisted with drum machines and home recording devices. Spilling her vocals over fuller formations, lyrics of lust and violence develop a soundtrack of experimental insanity within a love affair of sound. Live, Celeste’s songs take on new form all together: on-stage exorcisms, her voice often escalating into screams.

“Performing is when I let it all out and the songs often change structure. My voice is no longer tamed and I now belong to the energy of the people filling the room,” she declares. “They call me ‘Celeste the Mess’ because I become so nihilistically explosive on stage. Even though it may look like I am just flinging fluids and paints around, I really feel like it compliments the songs I write and the emotional chaos I am expressing.”

The music itself is unsettling, enigmatic yet explicit, drawing harrowing aspects of the murderous male gaze women are historically cruxed with. It seems only appropriate that the lingerie-clad Celeste transforms to a demonic presence drenched in fake blood before her audience. Such expressive representations of violence are reminiscent of punk’s most raucous stage icons, yet emerge stronger in femme form. Though Celeste admires the flamboyance of Iggy Pop and Lux Interior of The Cramps, these ruffians did not don the vivacious ghost energy of an Anna Nicole ritualizing herself with the extreme Evil Dead energy.

“I believe this persona is a part of myself that I was always taught to ‘hide away’ growing up. I play with this idea of mixing gore with glam or disgusting with beautiful.”

The divulge into the world of XXX is more than explicit content; the three simple letters can also stand for poison. Los Angeles’ landscape is undoubtedly an appropriate terrain for making art about the varying sides of performative personas as well as the depths of social stigma and the damage within the aftermath, broken psyches. “I feel like I always want to establish the desperation to be sexy in this society to the point where it gets disgusting and dysmorphic in my art,” Celeste explains. “Growing up, I truly thought that Playboy Bunnies were superheroes. I have always loved this highly sexualized image of women on XXX billboards - it's still so powerful to me! I definitely feel like LA's industry based on sex has definitely inspired me to go deep into the flaws of it and the result of sex workers being treated unfairly through it. I have always been fascinated with the rise and fall of the sex symbol in Hollywood.”

Ripping apart ideologies of guilt, self-worth and sexuality to the raw and exposed phrenic core of the objectified woman scratching towards death and then rebirth, the force of energy behind this project is beyond magnetic - it is transformative. Performing everywhere from house shows to dive bars, the old Wacky Wacko boutique to the famed “Queerspace” party, solo or collaborating with Neon Music for their electroclash project Princest, Celeste X is a gifted horror-monal princess on the rise in America’s darkwave synthpunk underground.

Originally printed in Vol. 5 of WUSSY with Sasha Velour, follow Celeste X and her project Princest for more updates, including her future release in February 2020.

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Sunni Johnson is the Arts Editor of WUSSY and a writer, zinester, and musician based in Atlanta, GA.

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