
Denver’s Tomato Soup just cracked open a pressure cooker of truth with “Lesbian Thespian” – and this is NOT some cozy campfire singalong. Dropping June 20th, 2025, this fiercely independent artist serves up raw, bleeding-knuckle emotional rock ‘n’ roll.
Right out the gate, the opening salvo lands like a fist: “lesbian thespian / a woman does what she can.” Boom. Identity, struggle, sheer fuckin’ persistence – laid bare. No metaphors needed when you’re staring down a rigged game. What follows is confessional fury. Tomato Soup drags you through the trenches: the riptide of mental health (“my mind’s a current / and sometimes I take things too far”), the suffocating weight of expectations, and that crushing shame of feeling like you’re failing. The collision of internal chaos and external bullshit is captured perfectly in lines like “it’s baseball candy the American dream / and it’s killing me” – a scathing, simple truth that hits like a brick.
But the real soul-rupture is the repeated whisper that cuts deeper than any scream: “I hate to let you down.” It’s not melodrama; it’s a devastating, bone-tired admission of human fragility. Universally gutting – that fear of disappointing lovers, community, yourself – yet delivered with such queer-specific intimacy it lands like a sledgehammer.
A voice carrying lifetimes, maybe just a driving acoustic guitar or sparse, tense instrumentation wound tight as a spring. The lyrics are the lead riff, the pounding rhythm section, the whole damn band. This is protest music for the psyche, a survival hymn screamed from the kitchen floor at midnight. It’s basement-show intensity with stadium-sized emotion.
“Lesbian Thespian” is a lifeline thrown to anyone drowning in the “quiet ache of unmet dreams.” It’s an electrifying jolt of queer toughness and brutal honesty, refusing to sugarcoat the daily fight. This single is a potent taste of Tomato Soup’s upcoming album – promising deeper dives into identity, chosen family, and the messy, magnificent art of staying alive in the modern meat grinder. Get it loud on all major streaming platforms come June 20th. This is rock ‘n’ roll at its most vital, real, and necessary.