Say gay music or queer music and a couple of rapidly dated visions emerge. Visions of handsome, short-haired women—mostly white—strumming acoustic guitars or skyscraping drag queens—mostly black—belting falsetto over a dance track immediately come to mind. A barely memorable butch queen or two singing techno, electronica, or house may register a mental blip, but otherwise few queer masculine images in popular music, especially black-identified music, will pop-up. Sadly, those who operated outside of these stereotypes in real life generally haven’t been very good singers or songwriters, putting out sub-par crumbs of material which gay audiences eagerly consumed because it was better than nothing at all. However, several genuinely good artists are beginning to color the queer lines of gay popular music, and I say it’s about damn time too. Where have ya’ll been, and why have you made us wait so long?

Ask any LGBT black music lover over 30 and they will breathlessly describe just how long they’ve been waiting for their Melissa Ethridge, Aimee Mann, Elton John, George Michael and Boy George. The wait was particularly acute in the 90s when everyone was coming out - everyone whit,e that is. Throughout the 90s black images in queer music were mostly Afro-centric earth mothers like Toshi Reagon, bisexual rebels like Meshell Ndegeocello, or RuPaul (no adjective needed). Certainly, there were no out gay hip hop or R&B artists, with “out” being the operative word.

At least not artists while they were still in their commercial prime. Several were forced out because of illness, like the departed singer/songwriter Kenny Greene (Mary J. Blige, Will Smith) of the R&B quarter, Intro; or “outed” by police in embarrassing vice stings like Quincy Jones’ discovery, Tevin Campbell. Several artists have come out during their middle age, once no one was really paying attention and their major label careers had long passed them by. We won’t even discuss Luther Vandross or the rumors surrounding luminaries like Phyllis Hyman. Only chart-topping dance artists like Sylvester, Carl Beam and Byron Stingily were willing to represent as out Black gay artist while in their commercial prime.

Now, there has always been something queer in black music. Music videos have long been peopled by curiously gendered men and women who received the more ambiguous label of “freak” (think Grace Jones, Nona Hendryx, Annie Lennox and 80s mascara boys like Prince and Jermaine Stewart). There have also always been over-the-top sangin’ queens in gospel who with heavy lisps would lament in interviews about God’s negligence in sending them a wife (if ever there was ever evidence of God’s wisdom, this is it). Still, Black music was the bastion of heterosexuality. Then along came Tim’m West.

A soul singer, hip hop poet and academician (Duke, New School and Stanford graduate), Tim’m West has released three books (Bare, Flirting, and Red Dirt Revival) and eight hip hop albums—five with the rap group Deep Dickollective and three solo projects (Songs From Red Dirt, BlakkBoy Blue(s), and his latest) of traditional hip hop with clear lineage to 80s rap and the Black Arts Movement. With his overtly sexual and political lyrics, the swaggering intellectual also is an heir apparent of the 80s Black Queer Movement led by writers like Essex Hemphill, Barbara Smith, Audre Lorde and Joseph Beam. His latest album, In Security: The Golden Error his best produced to date, with more than half being radio-ready in quality and modernity. Tim’m West has been the Black gay rap pioneer we thought the manufactured Baby Phat recording artist, Caushun, was going to be in the early 2000s, before he got locked up for identity theft. West’s indie shows are well attended, he’s in-demand on the college lecture circuit and, as a feminist and self-avowed “Kingchaser,” he is the darling of pro-feminists and bears alike. Conscious rap artists like Talib Kweli and soul men such as Gary Taylor regularly offer West the credibility of mainstream praise. Adding to the chorus are the many blogs, national magazines, regional newspapers, and documentaries (Pick Up The Mic, Beyond Beats and Rhymes, and the forthcoming Bring Your “A” Game) prominently featuring West. Though nearing 40 years in age, he still possesses a boyish appearance and—listening to the artistic progression on his albums—one feels his best work is still ahead of him, promising a future bounty for those who’ve been waiting for him and his breed.

I chose to focus on West in this first installment because he is more than a pioneer; West is the Kevin Bacon of Black queer music movement. West’s circle of friends and associates are a virtual who’s who of the queer people of color music scene, including Donnie, Baron, Nhojj, Ashley Phillips, Phillip Alexander, and Rahsaan Patterson. If the laundry list seems daunting for those just discovering there is more gay music in the world than k.d. lang, West’s latest tours and project, In Security…, offer a primer for beginners seeking other gay boundary pushers, including: Bryn’t, Deadlee, Last Offence, Tori Fixx, Tim Dillinger and the indomitable soul singer, William Scott (more on Scott and soul singers in the next installment). Tim’m West and his circle represents the future of gay music, Black music and a pop music future where same sex loves, hates and politics will be put to digital wax. Their efforts today feed the waiting, while offering hope for a time when singing about same sex lives isn’t revolutionary at all, but just another banging iPod track in the hood.