Beth's Return to Gossip Ditto: “I'm really shy.”

Any raver worth using psyllium will run out of breath at some point while dancing to gossip.

With indie anthems like “Standing In The Way Of Control” and “Heavy Cross,” the trio perfected a mishmash of punk, dance, and soul that continued to heat up dance floors throughout the 2000s.

Frontwoman Beth Ditto also became a cultural icon. Outspoken and anti-establishment, she captivated the media while challenging their attitudes towards her femininity and sexuality.

Even the pathologically chauvinistic NME caved in, calling him “the coolest guy in rock”.

In retrospect, she says the attention was unexpected.

“We didn't have a goal of selling a lot of records,” she recalls. “We never wanted to be famous. Our only goal was not to work in fast food.”

In any case, fame came crashing down and brought out the usual burdens of relationship rifts, frayed nerves, and disillusionment.

“Eventually you just need a break, and the music industry doesn't allow that,” he explains. “So you end up making something you don't like. You become a commodity.”

Gossip disbanded in 2016, with Ditto declaring that they “need to become independent and self-sufficient.”

The singer was busy working on a solo album, launched a plus-size clothing line and appeared on the TV show “Monarch,” but her personal life was in turmoil.

She divorced her wife of five years, Christine Ogata, lost contact with her father after her father passed away, and Gossip co-founder Nathan Houdeshell became a born-again Christian.

So when she joined super-producer Rick Rubin's studio in Kauai, Hawaii, to brainstorm her second solo album, things didn't start off well.

“My ex-wife is from Hawaii, and we married there,” she says. “So it was really hard trying to make a record there after my divorce.

“I was literally in paradise, looking out at the ocean, and I was down in the dumps.”

Feeling creatively stalled and “blaming herself'', she called Houdeshell and asked him out. The two had mended their relationship during a brief reunion tour in 2019. Ditto now compares their estrangement to a quarrel between brothers.

“We are childhood friends and family,” she says. “It may sound really awful, but it's true.

“I think we both needed to grow and change and make mistakes and do things that hurt each other.”

Encouraged by Rubin, who has worked with Run-DMC, Johnny Cash, Tom Petty, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Houdeshell began fleshing out Ditto's songs.

Slowly but surely, it began to sound more like a gossip record than her solo work.

“I saw Nathan playing guitar in this little makeshift studio and thought, 'I can't in good conscience take away his accomplishments.'”

“So, at that moment, I looked at him and said, “Well, this is already a gossip record.'' And he said, “Oh, then I'll try harder!'' ”

“I thought that was very funny. He didn't want to step on my toes. I felt like he was more cooperative after that.”

The pandemic interrupted sessions, but once restrictions eased, the original trio (Ditto, Howdeshell and drummer Hannah Briley) reunited to complete their first album in 12 years.

Entitled Real Power, it's a restless and bold 45 minutes of electronic pop. It's the sound of a band strumming their favorite riffs and rediscovering the joy of playing together.

The title track was inspired by the 2020 Black Lives Matters protests and celebrated those who stood up against abuses of power at a time when gathering in the streets could “literally make you sick.”

Elsewhere, the band is more vulnerable and introspective.

”I like peace and quiet…but silence kills me'' he sings in one of several songs that refer to the end of a marriage.

“You can definitely hear the sadness on the record,” she says. “I like sad songs. All singers love ballads. We want a change of key and we want Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

But her grief wasn't just hers.

“Nathan had lost someone and was very upset. A lot of his music was heavily influenced by country, so it had that kind of vibe and those words came out.”

However, since the album was completed, Ditto has found love again. She is currently engaged to musician Ted Koo, who is also Gossip's touring bassist.

She admits it was difficult to introduce him to songs about his ex-wife.

“It's a hell of a thing to make a record about something so sad. And now you're with someone else, and the music is like a time capsule of all your downs. “Yes,” she says.

Similarly, I couldn't bear to have him rehearse songs at home. He practiced for the tour “upstairs with headphones on.”

“And it's not just him. I don't want to know what anyone is thinking. I'm too shy. It makes me really self-conscious.”

The last comment may be surprising.

Ditto has never been afraid to express himself, at least in public. Her outspoken advocacy for body positivity and LGBTQ rights was inspired by the feminist queer punk scene she fell in love with as a teenager.

But while her quotes jump off the page, her dialogue is all sweet and Southern charm. She loves Christmas so much that she jokingly confessed that her “fancy” decorations won't come off until February, and she shyly refused to turn on her Zoom camera.

“I'm really stupid,” she says. “I don't want to see my face because then I'll be fixing her hair instead of paying attention.”

Ditto, he grew up poor in the town of Judsonia, Arkansas, carrying a Bible with him. The middle of her seven children, she learned her independence from an early age.

“If we wanted something, it wasn't, 'I have to work for it and earn it,' it was, 'Why don't we learn how to make it?'”

As a teenager, she remembers admiring a particular 1960s-inspired pantsuit. She had no money to save, let alone spend, so she put on the pants, drew the outline on some spare fabric, and sewed the dress herself.

“If you don't have money, if you don't have influence, you become an incredibly resourceful person,” she says. “You have to think about how to get out of things and how to survive in a world where all you have is your talents and skills.”

Independence is reflected in everything she does, from her music to her activism. At a time when pop music was decidedly apolitical, she wrote Standing In The Way Of Control in response to the federal Marriage Amendment, which outlawed same-sex marriage in the United States.

The song was dedicated to a friend who was shaken by the wave of homophobia the proposal provoked, from politicians as well as family and friends.

“When your very existence is discussed in public, things get confusing,” he says.

“So that song wasn't just about marriage and equality. It was about your right to exist and be left alone. It was for my friend.”

She spoke out against the current wave of Republican-backed legislation that limits classroom instruction on LGBTQ issues, limits access to gender-affirming care, and bans drag performances in front of children. Seeing the similarities.

Advocates say young people should be protected from life-altering medical decisions. But more than a dozen major medical groups oppose the law, and the American Civil Liberties Union characterizes it as “anti-LGBTQ.”

Ditto, I witnessed this situation first hand. Her fiancé is a transgender man, and she describes the atmosphere in America as “appalling.”

“We feel we need to make it clear that we do not want to speak for the transgender experience, because we will never know what the transgender experience is like. I live in fear of its effects every day.

“The lack of compassion is really painful to watch. It really feels like a dystopian novel. I'm trying not to be upset by it, but it's difficult.”

They find joy in the little things, like celebrating Christmas three months in a row or “crying” at the Abba Voyage show.

“We're having a great time. It's really fun,” she laughed.

“Teddy is 48 years old, but he looks so young that many people think he is my son!”