Texas is never far from Allison Ponthier’s mind.
Although the queer, Allen-raised singer-songwriter has called New York City home for the last few years, the 29-year-old returns often — literally and artistically — to the land of her birth.
On the day KXT connected with Ponthier (pon-tee-ay), “Jesus and John Wayne,” a new single from singer-producer googly eyes featuring her vocals, alongside Joy Oladokun, had dropped. The gorgeous tune was the latest in a series of songs in which she wrestles with what it means to both love and be traumatized by where you’re from.
“I feel like this one was meant for me a little bit, because [googly eyes and I] have a very similar background,” Ponthier said during our conversation. “When I lived [in Texas], I constantly wanted to separate myself from anything that reminded me of Texas. Then, as soon as I moved, all I could think about is where I came from, who I am, how it made me who I was.
“‘Jesus and John Wayne’ is important because it’s about … taking the parts of who you grew up … that align with being a good person who’s inclusive and accepting and really believes in love, and taking that for yourself to spread in the world. I really feel like my relationship with Texas is very similar.”
Ponthier will return home June 20 for a Deep Ellum stop at Club Dada, on her debut headlining tour, tied to the release of her latest single “Karaoke Queen.” The song is her first as an independent artist, since being dropped by Interscope Records after a trio of EPs (which, it should be noted, earned her high-profile fans like Elton John and fellow Texan Kelly Clarkson).
I spoke with Ponthier about how it feels to come home, her love of longform writing and what being an independent artist means for her future. The following conversation has been lightly edited and condensed.
What does it mean to you to come back to Texas? You’ve returned a few times, but also in your writing, presenting your perspective on Texas and adjacent themes. It feels very intentional — like “Hi, I’m here. I’m gonna be a visible presence.”
Ponthier: Yes, I make it a point to come to Dallas. But also, just Texas in general, as many times as I can. On this tour, you can tell Dallas is, like, the one weird one that’s completely out of the way, but it’s because on my first headline tour, I don’t think it would be right if I didn’t go back home.
I think for me, growing up, homophobia for me wasn’t so much people shouting things at me or enacting violence on me, because I was in the closet. To me, homophobia was no one talking about the thing. It was coded language and this feeling like I couldn’t exist normally, so I had to assimilate.
So, for me, playing in Dallas, especially headlining Dallas Pride two years ago — these are huge moments, because I have been approached by people who have known me growing up, and they’re like, ‘This would have changed my life growing up.’ I did not grow up thinking I would have even one percent of the life that I have now. Every time I go back and play Dallas, it really does me good. I think I get even more invested in what’s happening in Texas, because I do think there is a version of me out there that would have had a very, very different time if I didn’t have luck, bravery and community support.
You recently launched a Substack newsletter. You seem more willing to open the door and be more transparent about your songwriting process and your life in general. Is that a continuation of the idea of claiming your space, and saying, “Hey, here’s how I’m doing this. Here’s how you might think about doing this”?
It’s funny, because I’m a songwriter, so you would think I would inherently be super open all the time, but I’ve actually found that the past few years, I almost haven’t expressed myself enough unless it’s just through songs. I am a writer. I love to write creative fiction, and I love to write essays, so this is the first time I’ve really been able to talk in an unabridged sense about things I actually really feel without [metaphorically] saying that they’re like an ocean or comparing them to a ghost or something. It’s really important to me people can get to know me and what I’m passionate about, because I realized the most important thing that has kept me grounded through all the ups and downs has been feeling understood and seen.
I would think that vulnerability has a knock-on effect for the art, right? Because you can process different things through this channel, and maybe go into the artistic process lightened a little bit.
I never really met people I deeply related to until I started putting music out. I think it’s one thing to explain who you are in a group of people in a room, but putting artwork out there … I find a lot of my friends who are also artists really didn’t meet people who deeply understood them until they could share art. There’s something about it being abstract that finds people you relate to, like a heat-seeking missile or something. It’s crazy.
How are you finding being an independent artist? How are you feeling about it?
I find it extremely freeing —becoming independent shed a lot of light on what’s actually important when it comes to what kind of music I put out, what voice I have, who cares and who shows up at the end of the day. … It’s very difficult, and also maybe the best I’ve felt about my music in a long time, because when I was not independent, there were imaginary people in my head that I wanted to please. Now that I am independent and I have more control, I think it’s a lot clearer to me who I am and where I want to go.
Allison Ponthier at Club Dada, Dallas. 8 p.m. June 20. Tickets are $26-$63.
Preston Jones is a North Texas freelance writer and regular contributor to KXT. Email him at [email protected] or find him on Bluesky (@prestonjones.bsky.social).Our work is made possible by our generous, music-loving members. If you like how we lift up local music, consider becoming a KXT sustaining member right here.
