Well. I guess when you spend a lot of time with people who share the same assumptions, you forget the assumptions. Who knows who I would have been without dance music, but I'll still give credit: I don't really care if the singer of a song is female or male. I don't identify less one way or the other. Because the singer sings words. And the words and the delivery capture moods. And moods are human, for all humans.
Didn't really realize this was uncommon until I moved to Providence and started spending time with unreconstructed punks who still haven't arrived at the conclusion that many of the smarter musicians reached in 1978 (it is 2013!): that punk's conservative aesthetic was at odds with the purportedly progressive politics. And the biggest aspect of that conservatism is the idea that guitar-driven, aggressive and macho music is the only real "rebel" music. Bzzt. Nope.
(this is the first time I have felt insecure about loving Ten City since high school, for fuck's sake!)
Should it really matter who sings? Nah! A jam is a jam.