Rachael Sage’s ‘Canopy’: A Sonic Sanctuary for Queer Joy, Radical Empathy, and Marginalised Voices

If you’ve ever wished you could press play on a world that feels kinder, queerer, and more radically hopeful, Rachael Sage’s new album ‘Canopy’ is the hug you didn’t know you needed. Released with her longtime collaborators The Sequins, this record isn’t just a collection of songs—it’s a living, breathing sanctuary, stitched together with threads of empathy, acceptance, and the kind of unapologetic queer optimism our timeline so desperately craves .

Sage has always been a champion for the underdog, but on ‘Canopy,’ she turns the volume all the way up on inclusivity. “I wanted to create an album focused on inclusiveness, acceptance, safety, and empathy,” she shares, “When I recorded these songs with my band The Sequins, it felt like a metaphor. They’ve been a shelter and safe place for me. You can hear that connection in every note” . For LGBTQ+ listeners, that “canopy” is more than poetic; it’s a lifeline.

Unlike so many pop records that flirt with the idea of “inclusivity” as a buzzword, ‘Canopy’ is rooted in lived experience. Sage, who has been open about her own journey as a queer artist and advocate, doesn’t just nod to the community—she builds a home for it inside every harmony and lyric. The album’s title track is a swelling anthem of radical inclusivity and pacifism, with Sage declaring, “If the world were run by women there would be an end to war / There would be an end to suffering at the hands of hatred’s shards” . It’s a line that lands with particular resonance for anyone who’s ever felt othered, erased, or threatened for who they are.

Throughout ‘Canopy,’ Sage’s songwriting weaves together the personal and the political, the intimate and the anthemic. “Just Enough” radiates with ’60s sunshine and a quietly revolutionary message: you are enough, exactly as you are. The irresistible “Live It Up” pulses with a call to collective joy: “There ain’t no way to heaven ‘til we get there all equal” . For a queer audience all too familiar with exclusion, there’s something powerfully validating—and just plain fun—about these open invitations to belonging.

But Sage’s impact isn’t limited to what happens between the headphones. ‘Canopy’ follows the release of the single “Nexus,” a folk-pop manifesto whose proceeds are being donated to The Trevor Project in honor of Nex Benedict, a nonbinary student whose tragic death spotlighted the urgent need for LGBTQ+ affirmation and safety in schools . This act of allyship is not a one-off: Sage’s career is marked by ongoing philanthropic work for causes including LGBTQ+ youth, women’s health, and hunger relief .

Her activism is felt in every note. Sage has said, “When I recorded the songs with my band The Sequins, it really felt like a metaphor; this group of beautiful, brilliant humans have been and continue to be a kind of shelter and safe place for me… I hope listeners can feel how the affection we have in and out of the studio is embedded on Canopy” . For queer and trans folks navigating a world that can feel perilously unsafe, Sage’s message is clear: you are not alone, and there is a canopy big enough for all of us.

What sets ‘Canopy’ apart in the crowded landscape of 2025’s music releases is its unflinching embrace of queer values—not just tolerance, but *celebration*; not just allyship, but *solidarity*. The album’s lush Americana-pop palette, built with Grammy-nominated and award-winning collaborators, is both a nod to tradition and a bold step forward, crafting a space where folk, pop, and chamber textures become tools for community-building .

For LGBTQ+ fans, ‘Canopy’ invites us to imagine and inhabit a reality where care, safety, and joy aren’t luxuries—they’re birthrights. Whether it’s the fan favorite “Belong To You,” a paean to chosen family and devotion, or the quietly radical “The Best Version,” which takes on the surrealism of social media, Sage’s message never wavers: “Shelter is a given for all,” she insists, offering up music as both shield and sword .

The physical release of ‘Canopy’ doubles down on this ethos, too, arriving as a limited-edition art object—a concertina hardcover book with original paintings, photos, and lyrics, and a special orange vinyl pressing. It’s a reminder that queer artistry isn’t just about the songs; it’s about the stories, the visuals, the community, and the care that go into every detail .

In a year marked by cultural upheaval, legislative assaults on LGBTQ+ rights, and endless doomscrolling, Rachael Sage’s ‘Canopy’ is a rare gift—a testament to the power of gathering under a shared shelter, refusing despair, and choosing joy as resistance . For queer listeners, it’s an invitation: come as you are, bring your grief and your hope, and know that there’s a place for you here.

Or, as Sage herself puts it in the album’s title track:

“You don’t have to understand / You just have to stand under my canopy” .

For anyone who’s ever been told they don’t belong, that might just be the most radical message of all.