Margaret Cho is the queer elder the world needs
The multihyphenate on her first album in nine years, her legacy, and finding inspiration from American politics
Margaret Cho's third album, "Lucky Gift," released in February.
Nick Spanos
Words by Lisa Kwon
Margaret Cho is not afraid to die. She has persisted as a prolific comedian, actor, writer, and recording artist, despite fervent Reagan-era conservatism, homophobia, nominal visibility of queer Asian Americans, the tech-ification of her hometown, and of course, two Trump administrations. She attributes her sense of security and confidence, despite it all, to her creative practice.
“Creativity...has to be worshiped in a way,” Cho says. “I do shows every day. I practice music every day. It's what keeps my mind alive and what keeps me feeling good about the future.”
Her latest album Lucky Gift, her first music album in almost nine years and her third overall, dropped in February and is an honest collection of songs pulled from her everyday devotion to creativity. Songs like “Funny Man” and “You Can Be You” reveal a tender, observant Cho—a “queer elder,” as she would put it, who laments the systemic oppression of trans communities and the stigmatization of mental illness. In many ways, Lucky Gift feels like a maternal offering from a pivotal Asian American trailblazer who feels as if she doesn’t have to be the sole representative of a demographic anymore.
Cho recently sat down with JoySauce to discuss her legacy, how her creative rituals led to Lucky Gift, and American politics as a recent source of inspiration.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Lisa Kwon: You've mentioned that music is therapy to make sense of the way your life is going. Where are you at in your life right now?
Margaret Cho: I'm doing good. A lot of it is just enjoying my age and the place that I am in, in life. I thought that when I would be this age, I would be retired and have a bunch of kids. I kind of thought I would have it figured out, but I don't. I really feel the same as I did when I was a kid.
I’m still trying to figure it out, especially now with the way that the political landscape is. I'm so alarmed by everything happening daily. It's so shocking to me how everything changed yet it has not changed. I had always had a deep respect for American politics and how there were so many ways that we could avoid fascism and a dictatorship. But now it seems like we're sliding into one, which is very alarming.
LK: I want to get back to that, but first I'd love to know what is the most joyous thing about being in your 50s?
MC: I really love my home life. Music is a big part of that. I have a house that is really soundproof, so I can make as much noise as I want to. Even as an adult when I was married or when people were living with me, I always felt self-conscious of the way that my life sounded, but I'm very loud and I can be really rambunctious.
Margaret Cho started her stand-up comedy career in 1992.
Nick Spanos
I have a million animals, which is the best thing. I just wrote a song about a cat who escaped the (Los Angeles) fires in January. It's a very loud rock and roll song about a cat who doesn't understand why he's in the shelter, because he has an owner and a beautiful home, and he wants you all to know that he's Instagram famous. So this cat is detained in a facility and really angry about it. When I play it, all of the animals start running through the house with the zoomies. It's so funny because I don't know how they understand this song is about a cat in a shelter who's not supposed to be in a shelter. They start to riot, and they run from one end of the house to the other, and then they run in the litter box, and they kick the litter out. It's really funny.
I really love that kind of spontaneity. I can get up in the middle of the night, eat anything, play crazy loud music, and nothing is disturbed. Everything is at my own hours, on my own time. I'm really excited that I've curated my life like this.
LK: You said that you have respect for past American politics. Can you go more into that and why it feels so treacherous now, versus the ‘80s or ‘90s?
MC: Well, we used to have a Congress, even in the ‘80s when we still had a very oppressive Republican “Make America Great Again” movement under Ronald Reagan. It was violently homophobic. It was really disgusting. At the same time, we had options. You couldn’t maneuver around Congress, and there were three branches of government that are supposed to keep each other in line.
All of this is so scary because at least we had a Republican party before that was interested in following the rule of law and a perception that we're going to do this the right way. They had a quality of dignity about them that we don't have right now.
This is all very alarming to the idea of who we are as a nation. There's so much to look at and write about, which is fueling my writing as a comedian.
LK: I want to talk about how Lucky Gift feels like a balm amidst all that you mentioned. Who is Lucky Gift for?
MC: It's for everyone, but particularly anybody who feels left behind or attacked. There's specifically a song that I wrote for Nex Benedict, a non-binary teen from Oklahoma who was really failed by the system, by teachers and students, and the government—who, even after their death, could not stop misgendering and defiling the memory of this person. It's really stupid. So I wrote the song to reach out to non-binary kids and trans kids who are suffering from the weight of the homophobia and violence directed at them and trans people. It’s called “You Can Be You.”
As a queer elder, I can say that you are you, and it's the best thing to have permission to be you. So that one song was an example of where I could take art and make it so that I can feel better about having done something. I could do something about this terrible tragedy.
LK: This album cover feels subversive. This Margaret Cho who graces the cover has amazing hair, her makeup is snatched, she’s in a slip dress. Who is she?
MC: Thank you. It's kind of a throwback to the ‘60s. The ‘60s are a golden time for me. It's when my parents came to America. I love old photographs of them where my mom has the bouffant. They show my parents when they were young and excited about being in this new place, where the older generation wasn't looking at them, and they could kind of finally be themselves. (This cover) harkens back to that.
LK: There's a lot of decade hopping—from the visuals, to how you were inspired by the women of ‘90s rock. That also feels subversive for a queer Korean woman who couldn't necessarily find herself in those spaces back then. Is this intentional or is it not that deep?
MC: I feel it. This record could really sound like anybody that played at Lilith Fair in the ‘90s. I love images of all of those women artists wearing slip dresses with their guitars and singing very profoundly feminist rants. But it was also a very white movement; you didn't have artists of color or any Asian anything then. It was still a place where you didn't feel as if you existed. So here was my chance to finally put myself there with the songwriting and the sound.
Cho has paved the way for other Asian actors, comedians, and entertainers.
Nick Spanos
LK: In the ‘90s when you found yourself in the indie and alternative rock scenes, you were one of the very few Asian women in them. Was that core to your identity or experience? Did it mess with you? Did it help you grow?
MC: How do you even talk about feeling invisible with people that would never, ever understand it or could never even conceptualize it as a possibility? I think whiteness is the inability to understand other people's non-whiteness. It’s a weird blind spot. So even though (these scenes) may be compassionate and progressive, they'll never fully comprehend what invisibility is because they could not possibly imagine it.
For me, it was also weird because there were no other Asian comedians. Every once in a while I would come across people. Cibo Matto are now good friends, and I worshipped them because it was the first appearance of Asians who were so innovative in making hip-hop and electronica. They're truly a very important duo. But very rarely did I come across other Asian artists.
It took until the aughts when I saw Ali Wong do a comedy special that I realized I can sit down and enjoy this. It was really profound for me to see her because it made me realize I've come to a place where now my contribution has actually been codified. Somebody listened to what I was doing and took up the mantle. I felt as if I've achieved something.
LK: Do you think about your legacy a lot?
MC: Yeah. I think the greatest achievement is that I've inspired people like Joel Kim Booster, Bowen Yang, Awkwafina, Ali Wong—all of these Asian-American comedians who are so powerful for creating this movement within comedy and existing as powerhouses and entertainment. That is my greatest achievement: to have inspired the best generation.
LK: How have you maintained your art practice for almost three decades? I'm sure it helps to pick up different interests along the way, but what do you think an artistic life looks like?
MC: You have to be devoted to it. Every day. I have a very strong meditation practice. I have a very strong art practice. Every morning, I don't get out of bed until I write a joke every day; it doesn't have to be funny.
I'm not a religious person, but art is spirituality. Creativity is something that has to be fed, and it has to be nurtured. It has to be worshiped in a way. Ritual is writing at certain times, always recording, always being on it.
LK: What's inspiring you lately?
MC: Politics, unfortunately, but fortunately. How do we get out of this, and what changes? I'm so inspired by the way that people are protesting. I love that there is such an active form of resistance. I love seeing people at town halls really giving it to their representatives.
During times like this is when art really is precious, profound, and exciting. I hope to be able to add to that. I'm writing a lot of very political material. You have the wealthiest people in the world, but the one thing they can't afford is jokes at their expense. That's what I'm trying to put as much of my effort into as I can.
LK: How much of you is scared and how much of you is ready to just give your all?
MC: I'm scared, but I'm also willing to die. If I could get executed for doing these jokes, that might be a good thing for my legacy. That could actually be the best thing for my career—if I could be jailed or executed. How close are we from becoming an entity like North Korea? That's what it's like. I mean, we have this leader who does not care about the people at all and spends taxpayer money winning golf tournaments that he's claimed are his own tournaments. So let's see how far that goes. Is he going to actually start executing people? Maybe. It might be fun. We'll see.
Published on April 18, 2025
Words by Lisa Kwon
Lisa Kwon is a writer and journalist based in Los Angeles, CA. With a preservationist lens, she enjoys writing about her city and the diasporic movements of the 20th century that have made it one of the most culturally diverse areas in California. You can find her work in Vulture, Eater, Vice, PAPER, Cultured Magazine, and many more.