The one and only Charles Busch will be having his very first show at the American Songbook series presented by Lincoln Center. His show, titled The Lady at the Mic, will see him celebrate the careers of great entertainers Elaine Stritch, Joan Rivers, Julie Wilson, Mary Cleere Haran and Polly Bergen, all of whom passed away recently, and all of whom fit perfectly in Busch’s canon of praising outspoken, larger than life women. To celebrate the occasion I spoke to the legendary writer/performer about putting together the show, discovering his love for cabaret, political correctness and camp.

How did this show for the American Songbook Series come to happen?

I’ve always loved the series and somehow I didn’t think I was right for it, you know we’re always putting ourselves down. Then I was having dinner with Richard-Jay Alexander and he suggested I’d be perfect for it, so I thought OK, why not? I emailed the curator, and he immediately was enthusiastic about the idea! It just goes to show you, you shouldn’t put yourself down! My cabaret shows I’ve been doing tend to be a potpourri of songs I like and personal anecdotes, but doing my research it seemed shows in the series had a theme, so I came prepared and pitched them the idea about making a show dedicated to great ladies of song and entertainment who passed away recently, and who were friends of mine. They loved the idea, so next thing I know we’re booked to do the show, maybe I should’ve called them years ago.

Maybe you’ll get to do more shows there after this.

I go in and out of cabaret, I started my career in the late 70s as a solo performer in places like The Duplex, there was no music really, mostly monologues like Lily Tomlin. In the early 90s I did more cabaret, but it’s taken me a while to get comfortable in it, but now I love the medium, it suits me really well. I love the intimacy, I love singing in a way I never did before, as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to like the idea of song as a story.

I get the impression from your other interviews that you become very familiar with the work of the composers whose songs you’re singing.

Oh no, that’s not true, I’m not one of those historical people, I tell very little about the songs, it’s all about me, me, me (laughs). If you want stats, I suggest you Google the song, I love how personal cabaret is and relating the song to my own experience, how I discovered it, what it means to me. I know very little about the composers, but fortunately most of them are dead so they won’t come after me.

Many of these songs you do sing came from Broadway and theatre, which is something that happens less and less nowadays. Do you have a theory of why that is?

No, it makes it a little difficult, sometimes I think I need to update my musical image and add songs written after 1962, but the problem is I stopped listening to contemporary music when I was 18 years old in the 70s, so it’s a little late to start now. Sometimes I go on iTunes and look up contemporary artists hoping to find a song that suits me and I never have. First of all the lyrics tend to be about a young experience and I’d feel silly singing them, I’m not the world’s greatest singer, but I think I act the songs well, and songs today have very repetitive lyrics that don’t lend themselves to cabaret style. They have more production behind it, and usually I just sing with a piano. I’m open to suggestions, if anyone has a song that would fit a singing diva, hand it over!

Elaine Stritch and Joan Rivers passing away in the summer of 2014 showed us the universe really has no sense of humor…

Yeah, there are no more real-deal, salty, tough talking dames left! Then Polly Bergen died and Lauren Bacall. The tough and wise New York lady is gone.

The world is so politically correct now they’re gone.

Celebrities need to be so careful because even the slightest edge, tinge of a controversial statement, it’s exaggerated so in the headlines online to embarrass them. You see these people giving interviews now and it’s almost as if they have a gun to their heads, they’re so scared to get in trouble.

You’ve always pushed buttons, so you must be used to people thinking you have no PC button.

I’m an unpolitical performer, I guess the only thing in my shows that would upset people is if you’re offended by seeing a fella in drag. What’s separated me from other drag performers is my lack of edge, I’m the drag performer your grandma might enjoy. The women I evoke tend to be stars of the 40s and 50s, my drag persona isn’t one of outrage or defiance, it’s elegant and comforting.

We’re also somehow losing the movie star, people you play in pieces like Die, Mommy Die! Joan Crawford, Bette Davis…

Susan Hayward, Greer Garson...in a sense when I perform in cabaret I don’t do impersonations but I evoke the feeling of the ladies of the mic in the past, Judy Garland, Lena Horne, the vulnerable but elegant lady singing by herself in front of the microphone.

Right, now we’re used to hyper-realism, I’m always quoting Blanche DuBois and saying “I want magic”...

(Laughs) It’s hard today because we know so much about every performer, they’re so examined and it’s hard for an actress today to have much mystery to them. We know so much, even the way they’re photographed in hi-def, everything is so real. The stars of the past were shadowy figures in black and white, they were so protected by studios who only gave out the information they wanted. It’s hard for performers today to have any mystique to them, it’s not their fault, it’s the world that we live in.

You’re very famous for your work in the Village and your Off-Broadway plays, but once I read The Tale of the Allergist’s Wife, I found it so subversive in how you brought something like that to Broadway.

It was subversive in that under the guise of a Neil Simon sort of comedy it ends up being about a bisexual threeway. In an earlier play there would’ve been naughty flirtation between the two women, but I actually had a married couple going to bed with a female friend, so I guess that was kinda subversive for a straight audience.

I love that you wrote it for Linda Lavin and she’s still headlining shows on Broadway.

She’s a great actress, she’s had a very long career, I like to think that The Tale of the Allergist’s Wife, was kind of a latter career turning point for her. She’d already won a Tony, I didn’t discover Linda Lavin, but a career has ups and downs, and actors with long careers might have ten years with steady work but nothing quite exciting, and then all of a sudden you get a big show or movie that makes people think about you again. She got a Tony nomination for Wife and has never been out of the public eye since, she’s even doing more film now. I think she’s one of our great actresses, she’s a brilliant comedian, she has enormous dramatic resources, she’s fascinating.

People tend to use the word “camp” as a derogatory term, which I find quite irritating.

It gets dismissed a lot, most of the time when something is called camp it’s derogatory. My generation of performers tend to bristle when we’re called “drag queens” in the press, because when they say it there’s usually a patronizing quality that implies you’re not a professional, that it’s your lifestyle and not your work...and yet newer generations on RuPaul’s Drag Race revel in the term, they own that phrase and are proud of it.

I told one of my friends I’d be talking to you and he suggested you told me about your lamp.

(Laughs) I live in the West Village, I’m fortunate to have a big window that looks out on Abingdon Square, my taste in decor tends to be early bordello so I have this very flamboyant beaded lampshade that has a pink rosy glow when the light is on. A lot of people tend to use it as a landmark  to find their way in the crazy village streets. It’s like the old Astor clock.

Thanks Charles, a pleasure talking to you, I’ll see you at your show. Look out for my pink hair.

You’ll match my lampshade!

For tickets to Charles Busch: The Lady at the Mic click here.