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There are bands whose output one could comfortably describe as “prolific,” and then there’s Tegan and Sara. With eight LPs and over one million records sold, the duo have attracted the kind of diehard fan base for their heartfelt, energetic brand of alt-pop that any musician would covet. And that’s not to mention that the duo have openly identified as queer since the start, and are as committed to LGBTQ+ advocacy and activism as they are to music, with their Tegan and Sara Foundation working to award grants towards and further the rights of LGBTQ+ girls and women across North America.

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This fall, they’re set to prove that their skill with words doesn’t end at songwriting. With the September 24th release of their new memoir, High School, the twin sisters recount their origin story, coming out, and moving stories from their three (or so) very formative years of high school. As the sisters honed their songwriting craft, Sara tells them., their prose also strengthened. Like their music, the resultant writing is at once crisp and profound but never saccharine. In alternating chapters, they take turns telling stories that unravel their years before “Tegan and Sara,” when they were first learning who they were themselves.

Accompanying High School is a new album, Hey, I’m Just Like You, debuting on September 27th. Its origins are fitting: while digging through their archives to write the book, Tegan and Sara discovered their earliest recordings as a duo. Pleasantly surprised by the insight in the work, they decided to rework the songs into a new album. “I can see so much in common between the Tegan and Sara that people know now and who we were then, which is wild to me,” Tegan says. “I was under the impression we had really developed into this kind of artist, but actually, we were that kind of artist to begin with.”

Ahead of their memoir's release, them. spoke with the duo about coming out, the importance of queer memoir, self-reflection, and more.

Courtesy of the publisher

How did the idea of revisiting high school come about? Why was this a story you wanted to tell?

Sara: We talked about what to do after touring, and instead of working on new songs, we looked at other projects. We started talking about a book, an origin story and answers to questions people often ask. We don't often get to dig into questions about our identity, how we figured out we were gay, how we shared that information with each other, how we became songwriters, what our first band was like, what it was like to write our first music. That’s all conveniently contained within three years of high school. We conceptualized a memoir spanning the first day of grade 10 until after grade 12. Instead of thinking about our childhood or the years before we became Tegan and Sara, it gave us this brief period with a high volume of important happenings. It felt like a natural way to share that story.

Tegan: Everyone pushed us to write about being women in the music industry. I was like, "Fuck, that sounds awful and boring and I don't want to." If you really want the origin story of our band, which has not been documented, then we have to go back to high school. We told the story that became the book, of acid, fighting, hating each other, secret relationships, music, getting a record deal. Everyone was like, well, that's the fucking book.

Because we grew up in the 90s and the early 2000s, there was no social media. We weren't a very big band; there weren't a lot of stories about us. There are many misconceptions about how we started and our relationship. There's this assumption that we’re best friends who confide in each other, that life was easier because we had the other, that we came out to one another. They're all incorrect. As we wrote, it became very clear there's not a lot of stories told by women, especially queer women, especially in the music industry. We don't get to talk about our stories, our creative process. We realized how significant it was to tell this story, that it would give a voice to many people who don't often get heard.

How do you hope reading queer memoir, particularly reflections on adolescence, can affect young people?

Sara: There's not enough diversity in music, film, television, books. However much it might get better than the previous year, it'll never compete with the body of art and storytelling that exists through the heteronormative, heterosexual white lens. Somebody recently asked me, why do queer people always want to tell coming of age stories? I didn't even understand. Humans are obsessed with themselves. We constantly retell stories. Why would queer people be different? When you’re queer and feel in the minority and all you see are straight people in straight stories, you want to tell yours. Does it represent every queer person? No way. But does it give hope to some queer people? Absolutely. It’s wonderful that people are telling their stories. The more the merrier.

How did you decide what you wanted to share about your coming out?

Sara: We learned couldn’t include everything. It was tough at first, because how do you tell our story without all these other stories? I could write a whole book just about what it was like to come out. It was a very complicated process and it's not a process I even think is over. It’s something where, even now in my late thirties, I still want to process. Sometimes homophobia feels like this virus laying dormant. You can be a proud queer person out for over 20 years and every so often, the virus flares up. We don't talk about that a lot because within the queer community we've been encouraged to talk about the good things, how you want to be like straight people, that you want to get married and have kids, too. Don't be afraid of me. I'm just like you. And don't tell people you hate yourself. You're like gay Santa, please don't talk badly about yourself or the community. It would help to balance this wave of positive messaging with some realities. I think the only way to do that within our community is to talk about it.

Courtesy of the publisher

What made you decide to produce the accompanying album?

Sara: Writing the memoir, we did research and looked for archival materials. We also listened to some of our earlier music, written in the 1990s. We both expected some interesting musical moments, that we might include some original recordings with the audio book or make them available online. As we started listening, we realized these songs are great. If we put elbow grease into working on them, it could actually be a great new record. We wanted the music to be current and stand on its own even if you didn’t know the story. We made rules for how much we’d rewrite. If we wanted to write new lyrics, we had to pull them from other songs written during that time, or journals. There were certain words or phrases we encouraged ourselves to recycle so we weren't using our updated adult language.

Tegan: We thought it would be annoying and embarrassing to listen to this music. I was really struck by how good it was. The recording sucked and a lot of the lyrics are inaudible, but the melodies were so strong and our structure was already so developed. Our identity as writers was firmly there before we were signed, before we were adults. I bought into the narrative of being young, stupid, and one-dimensional: “Everything I wrote sucks, I'm so embarrassed.” Once I got over the initial shock of those things, because of course I felt them, I was like, God, we were so sweet and sincere. We were melodramatic, but also asked big questions, floated interesting ideas. We were aware of ourselves and our limitations. We questioned that and pushed back on who we were supposed to be, the life we were supposed to live. We did it so brazenly and aggressively. I became obsessed, flew down to LA, met with our label and was like, this is our next record.

What advice would you give to queer high school and college students that you wish you’d known?

Tegan: I think there's no better time to be a young LGBTQ+ person. I'm happy because there's so much great positive representation, great LGBTQ+ art, books, TV. I would've felt less lonely and isolated if I had that. What made high school better is having friends, community. I know it's not easy for everyone, but try to find people like you. I'm also reluctant to say “be yourself,” because maybe you're not ready to admit who you are. That's okay, too. You don't have to be out. You don't have to identify as anything. It's not a race. And I'm also like, "Fuck, but I don't want you to be lonely.” Maybe you can tweet at us and I'll be your friend. You're going to get through this part. It's hard for everybody. But the next chapter is going to be better because you're going to have more of a say in who you are, where you go, what you do, and enjoy it if you can.

Interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

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