Music has always been an important part of Mary Lambert’s life. Her mom was a songwriter, and since she was 6 years old she can remember writing songs as a way to escape the harsh realities of abuse she was living through.
“It’s a blessing to have that lesson as a child — here’s a coping mechanism that isn’t harmful,” she says. “Here’s this outlet that’s actually beneficial and can be of good, where you’re not internalizing abuse. You’re not making it a cycle within your own life. You’re putting it into something that is cathartic and healing. I’m grateful that I learned how to do that really early on or else I don’t think I’d be alive.”
Yet even with this helpful tool, Lambert continued leading a destructive life, eventually reaching a turning point when she was 19. In the midst of a manic episode, where she been awake and had taken drugs for three consecutive days, she discovered an unfamiliar art form.
“I hadn’t slept for 72 hours. I was at the end of my rope,” she says. “It was close to the second time I had attempted suicide. And I was going through the rabbit hole. It was probably 7 a.m., off of one of my benders, when I stumbled on YouTube videos of poets doing slam poetry. It shook something in me. I felt awake. I knew that was something I wanted to do.”
That night, Lambert wrote her first poem, dissecting the duality of being a Christian and a lesbian. Poetry allowed Lambert to unabashedly say whatever she wanted, without the technical or rhythmic constraints of writing lyrics. Never one to shy away from anything private, Lambert intimately explores all things personal — sexuality, body image, abuse, past sexual assualt, her bipolar diagnosis and more. She isn’t interested in diluting her reality down to appease masses.
“It’s easier to accept yourself as one or two dimensions — to say I’m a jock, or I’m dude so I don’t have feelings, or I’m the basic bitch,” she says. “I think we’re all born complex, but we live in a culture that says if you want to be loved you have to be easily digestible. I felt that way, sometimes, that I had fit in some sort of box so someone would love me and people would understand me. But I’ve been so fortunate in my life. I’ve been able to flourish all these aspects of my identity. And I’ve been loved and embraced for it.”
She strives to create art with intention and avoid record label formulas that stem from fear and greed, she says. While party songs have their place, that’s not the sort of work she wants to make. In this way, Lambert is helping to create positivity in the world.
Back in school, she wanted to be a politician, then chose teaching as the best outlet for change. But just as Lambert was on track for grad school — application half completed — she decided to give her performance career a chance. A few months later she got her first break with Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ “Same Love.” Now instead of holding class, she’s singing songs and performing poems, teaching lessons of self-love and acceptance.
She’s come a long way from her past — actively taking care of herself, having a strong support system and not hiding from pain. And she encourages her fans to do the same.
“When you go through your life, be aware and feel every single thing,” she says. “If you need to grieve, allow yourself to grieve. If you’re going through that break up, let yourself go through the break up. I think we’re so quick to turn those things off because they’re uncomfortable, and they don’t feel good. Shit like that isn’t supposed to feel good. But you can’t process it and move beyond it unless you’re present with it. My music is intended to help you be present with whatever you need to be present with.”
When attending one of Lambert’s concerts, be prepared to do just that. While the singer has plenty of upbeat songs and loves to crack jokes, Lambert is unafraid to be vulnerable on stage and conjure emotions in the crowd.
“I’m going to cry on stage. I’m with you. It’s kind of like group therapy. I always tell people, if you’re not comfortable with your feelings, then you shouldn’t go,” she says with a laugh.
“For me it’s about connection, and I’m so hungry for connection. And I’ve always been hungry for it. Every time I do a show I feel like I have a family that’s there. I feel safe. I feel like I can trust fall into an audience. And hopefully the audience can also feel safe with me too.”
ON THE BILL: Mary Lambert, 1 p.m. Saturday, Sept. 5, Taste of Colorado, Civic Center Park, 101 W. 14th Avenue, Denver, 303-295-6330.
