Songs of Survival and Becoming: The Ever-Evolving Voice of QTPOC Musician Ngoc

It was such an honor and joy to spend time with Ngọc—a non-binary Vietnamese-American musician whose music feels like both a deep breath and a quiet ache. I photographed them at the photo studio (Denver Photo Collective) and later at their home, where things felt slower, softer, and pretty chill. Their presence is grounding, their sound soul-stirring, and their story is woven with deep emotional honesty. Ngọc moves through the world with both softness and strength, embodying the kind of creative resilience that defines queer artistry. I knew I wanted to go deeper—so we sat down to talk about identity, grief, queerness, and what it means to make art that heals.

How has your identity as a QTPOC artist shaped your relationship with music and creativity?

I’m grateful to live as a non-binary trans Vietnamese-American musician. Growing up I listened to a lot of Vietnamese folk and popular music in my mom’s car. She had various CDs in her old Lexus and I remember as a kid connecting with the song’s melodies. I think at the core of my music is this longing for return— you can hear a lot of folk elements in my music. Obviously my sonic landscape has been largely been informed and influenced by American music, but the root is Vietnamese. I started identifying as non-binary trans after moving to Colorado. I am living a very different life than most of my friends and loved ones, the life of a musician. I’ve been very transient since I was 14. It’s hard for me to objectively describe how my non-binary trans identity has influenced my music and creativity. Unlike my Viet identity in which I can see a clear lineage of influence, I think my non-binary transness is very much ever-evolving. Maybe that’s it, there are elements of my identity that are certain that you can’t really cut in any other way, like being Vietnamese and American is a sure thing. And there are elements of me, like my queerness, that change over time. So I guess in my music and creativity, there are things that I am so sure of that come from a very intuitive place. And then there are artistic choices I’m constantly questioning.

How would you describe your musical style or sound in your own words? What feels most “you” about it?

I think there’s a lot of longing and grief in my music. I would describe my sound as spacey, synthy, guitar-driven, and pastoral. I try to take the complex and existential into something edible and tangible. My voice feels the most “me”. Just straight up raw emotion.

Photograph of a Queer Musician in Denver at their photography session by Queer Joy Photo

Who inspired you musically when you were growing up—and who inspires you now?

My music catalog was anything my brothers listened to growing up. Their music taste became my music taste. There was a lot of alternative rock like Black Keys and Arctic Monkeys and White Stripes that influenced this heavy dirty rock guitar playing. There also was The Tallest Man on Earth and Fleet Foxes and Wilco that had soft fingerpicking and warmth and tenderness that I loved. Later on in college, when I decided to pursue music seriously, I was heavily inspired by St. Vincent, Stevie Wonder, Prince, Joni Mitchell, Sufjan Stevens, and so many others. My community inspires me now. Maybe not musically but artistically. I’ve also been really resonating with Orion Sun, Bon Iver, and Lady Gaga. Lady Gaga’s most recent album Mayhem has opened up this raw gushing part of me that has never seen the light of day and I’m feeling invigorated by it. That album makes me feel alive.

Non Binary Musician in a white tee sitting near their window in their Denver Apartment, posing chill for a photograph

What themes or emotions do you find yourself returning to in your songwriting or performance, and why do they feel important to share?

I’m proud of the raw emotion that comes through in my songwriting and performance. Making music and playing on stage, in both scenarios, those are the moments I feel the most in touch with my truest emotions I could possibly get to. I have a hard time connecting with my true raw feelings just out and about in life. But when I record or perform, there isn’t really a question in my mind as to how I feel. I generally feel like I can tap into the emotion of my songs performing live as to when I recorded it. I came to this idea a few years ago when I started pursuing music seriously that the greatest way to influence positive change in the world is to just be purely authentically me. I believe that me being 100% me and sharing that with the world is a powerful, healing thing.

Photo of Ngoc singing at their recent show in Denver at Globe Hall. — Photo of Ngoc at their recent show in Denver at Globe Hall.

How do you hope your music makes people—especially other queer and trans folks of color—feel when they listen?

Can you share a moment when your music or performance felt like an act of resistance, celebration, or collective healing?

After I released my second EP, one of my sweet friends shared with me that my song “Everlasting Story” helped them process this grief that they had been experiencing for many years, but struggled to understand and put words to it. That my song kind of helped them fit the puzzle pieces together internally. That was a very impactful, fulfilling moment for me. An instance in which healing occurred.

What kind of creative legacy or impact do you hope to leave in the queer community—and how do you define success on your own terms?or collective healing?

I have a lot of inspirations and artists I admire. One thing though is I’ve never seen or connected with another non-binary trans Asian person in music. I want to fill that space and have my voice be heard within this greater chorus. My greatest hope is to help others keep on living, because that’s what music has done for me. I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions about music and success recently. At this moment I would describe success for me as being able to fully survive off of income from music alone. I still work my day job. So to be able to quit the 9 to 5 and have more space to create and live and breathe within music is a dream. I have more ideas of what success means with me, but I’ll leave it at that. I try to just put one foot in front of the other and take it in baby steps. Right now, quitting my job and doing music fulltime would feel like an incredible, incredible success for me.

Thank you so much for sharing your heart, Ngọc. Your music, your presence, and your truth are a gift to our queer community and beyond. You remind us that healing can sound like a song and feel like being seen. Where can people find your music and follow your journey?

7/16/25

Client Sessions, LGBTQ+ Photography