Latest news with #BellsLarsen
Toronto Star
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Toronto Star
Trans musician Bells Larsen recorded a stunning new album. But he won't be able to tour the U.S.: ‘We're being scapegoated'
'Leap, and the net will appear.' For months, these words were scrawled on a piece of paper affixed to musician Bells Larsen's mirror. It was the pandemic, and Larsen had pulled the phrase from a popular guidebook called 'The Artist's Way' by Julia Cameron, which was designed to help people tap into their creativity and has been praised by the likes of Alicia Keys, Elizabeth Gilbert and Doechii. For many, the book's spiritual grounding and daily journaling practice enable a deeper level of insight. 'It's one of the most important things I've ever done in my life,' Larsen told the Star, explaining how the book factored into his decision to transition. 'You can only write 'I am not comfortable in who I am' so many times in your journal and sit with that before you feel compelled to explore it.' ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW This exploration is documented on the 27-year-old's just-released sophomore album, 'Blurring Time.' When he first put pen to paper in 2021, Larsen was flooded with questions that became the seeds of its nine tracks: Who am I? ('Blurring Time.') Who am I in relation to the people I love? ('514-415.') Once I change, what gets left behind? ('Questions.') Bells Larsen has a series of Canadian tour dates scheduled and will be opening shows for Dan Mangan in the fall. Lawrence Fafard By the time he wrote the album's last track, 'Might,' Larsen had decided to start taking testosterone. He knew that his voice would change, but rather than recording the entire album in one register or the other, he opted for both. In 2022, he used his higher voice. After beginning testosterone, he recorded the vocals again, harmonizing with himself. The result is a richly layered, folk-forward album whose approach feels peerless. Larsen imagines a listener in a café hearing one of his songs, thinking 'this girl-boy duo bangs,' only to Shazam it and realize it was recorded by one person. But just as important as the inclusion of both voices on 'Blurring Time' is noticing when, and how, they're being used. 'Might' considers the changes that may result from his transition, so he chose to rely mostly on his high voice. 'Questions' is written from the point of view of someone who already changed, so the song leans more on his low voice. On other tracks, both voices are woven together. 'I felt like I hadn't seen a whole lot of trans representation that included parts of one's past and parts of one's future,' he explained. 'I understand why that is. It is so valid for trans people to want to place their old self to the side so that the new self can shine. However, I think that is partially why it took so long for me to figure out that I was trans, because my old self is still very much with me. I still am that person. I just needed to make some changes so that I could be comfortable in my own skin.' Growth is often measured by the distance we can put between different versions of ourselves. For some, this distance is not only helpful, it's essential. But for Larsen, 'both/and' felt more honest than 'either/or.' ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW Minutes after taking a seat in an Annex café, the musician was already acknowledging the many dichotomies in his life. He had just come out of a weekend celebrating both Easter and Passover, for his dad's and mom's sides, respectively. He splits his time between Montreal and Toronto, toggling between a joual-speaking Quebecer and a born-and-raised west-ender. He views his album's duet approach as yet another dichotomy — one that embraced his multitudes. 'It's not at all that my transition has been an art project,' he said. 'But if I knew that I was going to transition no matter what, I figured that I want to offer this album to myself as a parting gift, and I also want to offer this album to myself as a housewarming gift, too.' In these ways, 'Blurring Time' communicates a sort of homecoming — an arrival-to-self that can only be mined from periods of great uncertainty, which can result in what Larsen refers to as 'good grief.' 'It's about taking something hard and trying to make it good, not by virtue of toxic positivity, but through art,' he says. 'I think it's OK for there to be grief in transitioning. It's OK for me to miss parts of my old self. Now that I have changed and I'm different than I was three or four years ago, I'm still grieving past versions of myself. But I don't think that's unique to being trans.' Bells Larsen divides his time between Montreal and Toronto Lawrence Fafard As Larsen embarked on his physical transition, the 'leap' maxim remained affixed to his mirror in plain sight — a hopeful buoy among the unknowns. 'I understood what the leap was,' he said. 'I hoped that the net would appear, and I understand today that it has.' ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW New questions posed While many of the questions that Larsen poses on 'Blurring Time' are deeply personal, their relevance is far more expansive. On 'My Brother & Me,' when he considers what it means to be a good man, it isn't only about one person's renegotiation with masculinity, but the rigid concepts of gender isolating so many young men from themselves and others. 'Pretty soon I'll go through puberty again / Will I be an asshole or gentleman?' Larsen sings, reflecting on his then teen brother's draw to personalities like Jordan Peterson — an interest sparked by the loneliness of being a high schooler stuck at home during the pandemic. 'He turned to thinkers that contradict my existence,' Larsen said. In the last few years, Larsen's brother has moved on from these harmful ideologies and thinkers. The musician lights up describing the 'beautiful ally' his sibling has become — a sentiment recently echoed in an Instagram post: 'I am verklempt to have my masculinity be informed by his.' But as much as he has been influenced by the men in his life, Larsen acknowledges his own ability to now do the same. 'I almost see it as a sort of superpower that I can be kind and be thoughtful, and people who don't know that I'm trans can just read me as a kind and thoughtful guy,' he said. 'That can make a bit of a positive dent in the world.' Larsen was looking forward to making an even bigger dent with his 'Blurring Time' tour this spring. He had six U.S. shows scheduled, as well as a series of Canadian dates. But two weeks ahead of his album release, Larsen's reality was shaken. ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW Canada Explainer Can U.S. border officials detain Canadians? Check your phone? Here's everything you need to know about crossing the 49th parallel Reagan McSwain On April 2, the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services updated its policies to specify that it 'only recognizes two biological sexes, male and female,' and that it considers a person's sex as that which they were assigned at birth. As a result, Larsen, whose passport has an 'M' gender marker, was told by the American Federation of Musicians of the United States and Canada that he would not be able to apply for a visa. There were already risks to crossing the border as a trans person in 2025, and Larsen had taken the necessary steps to ensure that he would be as safe as possible: he was travelling with his guitarist, a cisgender man; he was crossing borders via plane; and he was performing exclusively in blue states. But in the end, the decision was made for him. 'It was a very surreal moment of understanding that I am, in some ways, part of the group that's first in the firing line of these new policies,' he said. 'This is the first time in my adult life that I have been personally implicated.' He took to Instagram to announce the cancellation of his U.S. dates. 'This new policy has crushed my dreams,' he wrote. 'I am more and more gutted with every day that passes by the (seeming) dissonance between the world in which I created this project and the world into which I am releasing it.' Larsen is not the only Canadian artist experiencing the impact of these anti-trans policies. Halifax singer-songwriter T. Thomason recently cancelled an appearance at Maine's All Roads Music Festival because he didn't feel safe crossing the border as a trans man. Comedian Ava Val pulled the plug on her U.S. dates because of her own visa issues. The policy changes also implicate non-binary Canadians. In declaring that 'only two biological sexes' would be recognized by the U.S. government, the roughly 3,600 Canadians with 'X' gender markers on their passports are left in a precarious position. ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW These developments have led LGBTQ advocacy groups to raise alarms with the Canadian government. 'Trans and gender-diverse Canadians are continuing to face real fear and uncertainty when it comes to crossing the U.S. border,' Helen Kennedy, executive director of Egale Canada, told the Star. 'This uncertainty makes it incredibly difficult to assess whether it's even safe to travel.' Egale Canada have cancelled their own plans to travel to the U.S. to 'safeguard (their) trans and non-binary staff,' and have also called on Canada to update its travel advisory for the U.S. In Larsen's case, 'visagate' has also eclipsed his album promotion cycle. Stories in the Hollywood Reporter and the Guardian have certainly helped him raise awareness around the realities of being a trans person in 2025, but they also emphasize how simply existing at this intersection of identity can be perceived as a political act. It's a duality that Larsen continues to struggle with. 'Today is my T-day,' he said. 'So at some point, I'm going to go home, I'm going to unzip the little pencil case that I bought at Dollarama and inject myself with testosterone. It's a five-minute process — a 10-minute process, depending on how nervous I am. I put a Band-Aid on, I go about my life, and that's it. Because I have access to that kind of care, it allows me to look a certain way, feel a certain way, have a certain je ne sais quoi in my step. That's it. I have a bit of trouble with the politicization of my identity, because it doesn't actually involve anyone but me. 'But if we zoom out and look at transness on a global level, my community is being profoundly dehumanized. We're being scapegoated right now. So I totally get why this is political, too.' ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW Where to now? Larsen's warmth is as contagious as it is calming, but he frequently uses the word 'anxious' to describe himself. Throughout our conversation, I noticed him playing with something in his right hand. As we started talking about what keeps him grounded, he opened his fingers to reveal a smooth, heart-shaped white rock. Placing it on the counter, he explained that it was given to him by a friend as a token of support following the events of the last few weeks. He then reached into his left pocket and pulled out a single Polaroid — of his partner, standing in a forest in Sainte-Adèle, Que. 'I'm grounding myself in my friendships and in the love that I feel,' he said. 'Romantic, yes, but another part of queerness is community and the love that isn't romantic. If there's one thing that I'm sure of after the last couple of weeks, it's that I am very loved.' 'These two things,' he gestured to the rock and photograph, 'are a real testament to that.' In the coming months, he'll focus on playing shows in Canada. He'll also be opening for Canadian indie rocker Dan Mangan this fall. Larsen said he might explore touring overseas as an alternative to the U.S. But as he observes peers announcing their American dates without issue, he plans to carve out time to grieve the significance of what has been decided for him before deciding what's next. 'I want to keep the momentum going because I can feel the ways in which this album is going to, and has already, changed my life,' he said. 'But I also want to live my life a little bit.' ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW ARTICLE CONTINUES BELOW On Thursday, he'll play a packed show at the Great Hall on Queen Street. The last time he performed at the west end venue, he was part of someone else's band and was so nervous that he had to look down at the floor. But this night will be different. Larsen's friend Lane Webber, a Toronto-based trans musician, as well as non-binary artist Your Hunni will be accompanying him on vocals. For Larsen, having this shared lived experience on stage was critical. The rest of his band are men who Larsen said have helped inform his sense of masculinity in some way. On this night, he'll look up — at his peers on stage and to his community of fans — and in more ways than one, he'll be home.
CBC
01-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CBC
Why Bells Larsen decided to sing duets with his past self
On Bells Larsen's stunning new album, 'Blurring Time,' the Canadian singer-songwriter has an unlikely collaborator — himself. Bells is a trans man and he first recorded the album in his pre-transition voice with the intent of revisiting the songs after he started hormone therapy. The result is a unique self-collaboration, in which he harmonizes with himself. Bells sits down with Tom Power to talk about the new album and having to cancel his U.S. tour. If you like this conversation, take a listen to Tom's chat with singer-songwriter T. Thomason.
Toronto Star
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Toronto Star
This transgender artist recorded his stunning new album as a unique self-collaboration, and now he won't be able to tour the U.S.: ‘We're being scapegoated'
'Leap, and the net will appear.' For months, these words were scrawled on a piece of paper affixed to musician Bells Larsen's mirror. Emilie Hanskamp is a Toronto-based music journalist and producer.
The Guardian
23-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Trans musician Bells Larsen was forced to cancel his US tour: ‘My livelihood has been robbed'
Bells Larsen knew that releasing a low-fi, folksy album about his transition as the Trump administration relentlessly attacked LGBTQ+ people would give it an inherently political edge. But the Canadian singer-songwriter did not expect to be caught in a bureaucratic nightmare while attempting to tour the US – and ultimately have to cancel that tour due to the gender marker in his passport. On 12 April, Larsen announced on Instagram that he was pulling out of concerts to promote the album in eight cities this spring: 'To put it super plainly, because I'm trans (and have an M on my passport), I can't tour in the States,' he wrote. Earlier this month, US Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) updated its manual to 'only recognize two biological sexes, male and female', reversing a Biden-era policy that allowed for a third gender option on visa and immigration forms. This means that trans or non-binary travelers could face issues with their documents when applying for visas or attempting to enter the US. The update comes amid the turmoil caused by the president's border crackdown and targeting of LGBTQ+ individuals. 'I feel overwhelmed by the degree to which my community is being completely dehumanized,' Larsen said on a Zoom call from his Montreal apartment, where colorful figure drawings by his partner, Noah, covered the wall. 'My livelihood has been robbed of me, but this is also so much bigger than me.' Larsen, 27, now finds himself in a delicate situation. He wishes to transcend the touring visa drama and 'focus on the music', while also speaking out against efforts to legislate trans identities out of public life in America, where he has friends and fans. Larsen wrote Blurring Time, out 25 April, while beginning to identify as trans in 2021. The first line sung on the album – 'Friday night, drinking boxed wine, alone in my apartment blurring time' – describes the messiness of coming out during the pandemic. 'Being alone in my room and looking at myself in the mirror, seeing the way my body curves or doesn't curve, and realizing that I'd been avoiding doing so for so long – the world paused, and I was invited to look inward in a way that I wouldn't normally,' he said. That isolation sparked Larsen's decision to start taking gender-affirming hormones, though he now understands that he was always trans. 'Growing up, my birthday present was always getting to go to the hair salon with my older brother Charlie and choosing his hairdo,' he said. 'Why would someone want to give their brother a makeover for their birthday? There are all these little things I think back on and say, I've always been me.' Larsen comes from an artistic family in Toronto; his father wrote children's books and his mother went to acting school. Their support, along with seeing gay and trans characters in shows like Glee andDegrassi and watching coming out videos on YouTube, helped Larsen begin to put the pieces of his sexuality together early on. He remembers seeing a friend in a lesbian role in a middle school play and empathizing with the character. 'I just had this huge aha moment,' he said. Attending an arts high school had an effect too. 'I met people in grade nine who were proudly and openly self-identifying as bi or queer or gay, and I felt this huge exhale,' he said. When he was 15, Larsen wrote his first song to commemorate a breakup with his high-school girlfriend, Cara. 'The very, very first lyric of any song I ever wrote started with 'she'. Thinking back on it, I'm like, damn, that's pretty rad that at the time I was a girl thinking about another girl and letting my freak flag fly.' He wrote his first album, Good Grief, as a way to process Cara taking her own life in 2017. It addressed different types of mourning – the death of a friend, the end of a relationship, the loss of innocence that comes with growing up. At the time, Larsen identified as non-binary. 'My queerness before that album was always focused outward: who do I love, who am I attracted to?' he said. 'Slowly, I started thinking about who I am, who is compelled by me, who am I as a lover? Once I started asking those questions, the gender of it all started to unfurl.' Larsen wanted to start taking gender-affirming hormones as soon as he came out as trans, but he was worried about how the testosterone would impact his singing voice. 'When we think of the way transition looks for transmasc people who want to pursue a physical transition, one of the first things we think about is that their voice gets deeper,' he said. 'The thought of that was very euphoric for me, but also scary, because I didn't know how it would impact my main instrument.' So Larsen recorded all of the songs for Blurring Time first with his higher voice, with the intent of revisiting everything once he started hormones. When his voice deepened, he worked with a vocal coach to relearn how to sing in the new register. Justin Bieber was an unlikely muse, since the teen popstar experienced the hormonal changes of adolescence between albums. (Larsen, a 'big Belieber', met Bieber pre-fame when he was a child busking on the Toronto streets. Larsen told him he was a musician; Bieber told him to 'keep on keeping on'.) Then Larsen re-recorded each song and layered his voices together, so present-day Larsen duets with a past version of himself. He got the idea in part through the dueting feature on TikTok. 'I shaped my transition around this project,' he said. Larsen's confessional songwriting takes cues from Elliott Smith, who used multi-tracking vocals to create layers of harmony. He counts Joni Mitchell, Nick Drake and Sufjan Stevens as major influences, and calls Adrianne Lenker, who fronts the folk-rock band Big Thief, 'one of the best songwriters since forever'. Larsen's lyrics directly grapple with gender identity while also refusing to be defined by it. 'It's not as simple as either or, I'm both and I'm more, most of all I'm unsure,' he sings on the title track. In March, Canada and some European countries issued travel advisories for trans citizens, cautioning them about the US's stricter visa rules if their documents do not reflect their sex assigned at birth. Larsen had planned safeguards, such as performing exclusively in blue states and traveling with a cis man as a sort of buffer. But the 'biological sex' listed on his US visa application form, as required by USCIS, did not match the M (for male) on his Canadian passport. After receiving an email informing him of USCIS's rule from the American Federation of Musicians, a labor union for both US and Canadian musicians, and speaking with two immigration lawyers, Larsen cancelled the tour. He made it clear that he felt forced into doing so because of the policy. 'I received an email with underlined wording stating that my application would not be able to be processed,' Larsen said. 'So I know for sure that I am not able to apply for a visa and come to the States in a touring capacity, at least for the next four years.' Larsen is not alone. The Nova Scotia-based singer-songwriter T Thomason, a non-binary trans man, told Wired that even though his visa does not expire until June, he cancelled a gig in Maine. Horror stories of travelers detained at the border were enough to deter him. 'I just thought if that's happening to cis people, I really feel worried about what could happen to me,' he said. Antoinette Follert, communication director for the American Federation of Musicians, wrote in a statement: 'USCIS will not accept petitions with no gender identity, and furthermore, the gender identity must be the same as what was designated at birth. We shared the information with our Canadian members, and upon receiving that information, Bells made the decision to cancel the tour. The American Federation of Musicians … supports all members equally and continues to lobby on behalf of all members in support of our mission and values.' When foreign musicians tour the US, they usually apply for an O1 visa for 'extraordinary ability', said Sarah Pitney, an immigration attorney in Washington DC who does not counsel Larsen. That visa goes into a musician's passport and is examined at the border by US border agents. If the gender markers on the visa and the passport do not match, a musician could face invasive questioning from a border agent. Pitney said it was unclear whether they also could be denied entry. So far, there are no confirmed cases of trans or non-binary travelers of any nationality being detained or barred entry at the US border. But the fear remains. 'If you were to ask me, could this musician tour in the US, the answer is likely yes, if he's willing to put up with the disrespect of having a visa that says female,' Pitney said. 'And he absolutely should not have to do that. I agree with [Larsen]. If I were a trans person coming into this country, I would not come into this country. His decision makes sense to me, and I do not question it for a second.' Pitney added that immigration lawyers were worried that US authorities could claim that a trans or non-binary traveler committed fraud if their gender markers did not match: 'This isn't something we've seen yet, but we're theorizing it could and we have concerns.' Massima Bell and Dust Reid are the producers of Transa, a sprawling music project out of the US released last year in support of trans rights, featuring songs from more 100 artists including Sade, Beverly Glenn-Copeland and Sam Smith. 'Even prior to this administration, trans people faced more hurdles with traveling, because you're always at the behest of basically whatever border agent you get,' Bell said. 'That creates an opportunity to be targeted, singled out and harassed. Now there's a top-down, concerted effort to create barriers for travel for trans people. I think it's part of the creation of a blueprint where trans people are test subjects of these policies that are ultimately used to establish a more authoritarian federal government in the United States.' Bell and Reid wanted to plan international events to promote Transa, but they're holding off for now. 'We're reluctant to send artists overseas for fear of invasive questioning,' Reid said. For now, Larsen is focused on shows in Canada and Europe. He was recently asked to tour with the Canadian musician Dan Mangan, who he counts as one of his heroes, and whose songs he used to sing while busking with Cara on Toronto subways as a teen. He wishes he could perform for his US fans, but says he has no interest in crossing the border 'in the same way that you probably don't want to date someone who doesn't want to date you'. Larsen does not feel like he needs a travel document to validate his identity. 'There is no policy that can undo your existence,' he said. 'There is no politician who gets to decide that you exist or don't exist. You are who you say you are, and that's enough.' In the US, you can call or text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988, chat on or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counselor. In the UK and Ireland, Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123, or email jo@ or jo@ In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. Other international helplines can be found at
CBC
17-04-2025
- Entertainment
- CBC
Is it safe for trans artists to tour the U.S., and Canada's contribution to dancehall
Montreal singer-songwriter Bells Larsen joins Elamin to talk about why he was forced to cancel an upcoming U.S. tour due to Trump-administration visa policies that directly target trans people. His upcoming album 'Blurring Time' is out April 25. Plus, 'Art of Dancehall,' is a new book by Major Lazer's Walshy Fire, and it documents the genre's rise from the streets of Jamaica to the global stage through the flyers and posters used to promote local dancehall club nights and street parties. Elamin speaks with one of the book's contributors, Toronto-based dancehall archivist Sheldon Bruce, AKA Muscle.
