This rapper was having panic attacks on stage, until he transitioned

Affirming his gender last year has renewed Kae Tempest's love for performing live. (Supplied: Handsome Tours) Link copiedShareShare articleA poet, rapper, musician, playwright, novelist and essayist, Kae Tempest is adept at expressing himself through his art. At 28, Tempest became the youngest winner of the prestigious Ted Hughes Award for his epic poem Brand New Ancients. His first two solo albums, Everybody Down and Let Them Eat Chaos, were both nominated for the Mercury Prize, which is awarded to the best album released by a British or Irish act. He's collaborated with Rick Rubin, been nominated for a Brit Award, and won the Silver Lion at the Venice International Theatre Festival. It was the polymath's prodigious output that helped him realise he needed to transition. "It got to a point, I think I was hiding in my work," says Tempest, now 41. "As long as my work was going all right, I could deal with the fact that when I was back from tour, I often would collapse and wouldn't be able to move and would go into some kind of depression." He didn't realise the way his mental health was impacting his physical health, too. "As long as it didn't show up on the tour bus, or it didn't show up when I was sitting at my desk with something to deliver, or as long as it didn't come into the studio, I could kind of think that it was just normal," he says. "[But] finally, when it turned up at work, which for me is my reason for being, that's when I realised that something was different because I was unable to function." This disconnect between his public persona and private self took the form of panic attacks on stage, which Tempest experienced for many years. However, affirming his gender last year has renewed Tempest's love for performing live. "When I was younger, [music] was always the place where I could flourish and thrive," Tempest says. "Being behind a mic on stage was the place where I kind of left everything behind and went to the divine – it was really the most euphoric, uplifting, connected place for me. "I can't tell you how much of a relief it is to feel like I've come back. I've been gifted a selfhood that I didn't really have access to before. "Or, like, it was there, but I couldn't really reach him." It's not just internally that Tempest's gender euphoria manifests itself, but also in the way he connects with his audience. "It's so wonderful to go out on stage at the moment," says Tempest. "I'm back in the room and I can use all of the things that I've learned over 20 years of being on stage." Released to widespread critical acclaim, Tempest's most recent album, Self Titled, is a paean to the trans and gender diverse community, a glimpse into his own transition, and a rallying cry to reject rising anti-trans sentiment. Self Titled is Kae Tempest's first album since transitioning last year. Self Titled is also the first album where Tempest had to learn how best to use his new, distinctly more masculine register. When he started to medically transition, he didn't really know what was going to happen to his voice. "It's kind of like an instrument you've played before, but slightly new," he says. "I was working with my voice the way it was for a long time and there's things about my voice post transition that I haven't yet got my head around, but it's exciting. "I feel like if you have a passionate connection to something it is a beautiful blessing." Despite the excitement, fear about how his voice might change deterred Tempest from transitioning earlier. "I used to think, 'Oh, I'll never be able to transition, I'll never be able to do it'," he says. "[Or] like 'maybe when I'm out of the public eye, maybe when my career's over' … maybe when I'm 60 or something [and] I don't want to make music anymore." Tempest pauses to reflect on what he's just said. "I was reminded of that the other day by a friend and I just thought, 'F***ing hell'," he says. "The panic and the fear and the idea of letting people down or being rejected or the violent fear of what would happen to my voice, all of that anxiety … And really what's happened is I've just got new space to play and a better feeling in my being. "My voice is an extension of my soul, so all round it feels good." London-based Tempest lives and works in a Britain of rising anti-trans sentiment, anti-trans policies and trans women being increasingly discriminated against. Tempest refuses to allow transphobia to impact him unduly. "[It's] just coming from a place of fear," he says. "So, I don't really need to receive it in my heart." Instead, he insists on focusing on trans joy. "How wonderful and beautiful that in all of the millions of years that life has existed on this planet – 300 million years — and somehow here we are in this moment," says Tempest. "I feel truly awe-struck at that fact every day and I get to share this moment with so many wonderful other people. Beyond reinforcing his relationship to the trans and gender

This rapper was having panic attacks on stage, until he transitioned

Key takeaways

More in international