Is florence + the machine gay

I've known Florence + The Machine for awhile but never, in the past, did I bother to watch any videos of them. I was just contented in listening to "Dog Days Are Over" and "Shake It Out". Then, I discovered "Breath Of Life" and wondered how can she perform this live? So I watched a video of Florence + The Machine performing Breath Of Life live. I wasn't disappointed, it was better than the album version. With Florence Welch's energy and passion in singing. You could just feel her.

So, I guess you guys are wondering why I position this post in the LGBT blog. Actually, I started to like FATM more. I searched videos, songs and pictures. Then I thought, "Why undertake I keep on focusing in Florence Welch?" Her elegance, her amazing voice, her laugh, her humor and I even scan her Bio. Am I attracted to her? No. Attracted is not the word. I am drawn to her. There's something about her that pulls me deeper into adoring this passionate artist.

As I was surfing the internet for her pictures, I saw various photos where in she is kissing a young woman. First I thought, "Maybe it'

Music Review: Florence and the Machine’s ‘Dance Fever’

“Tell me where to put my love,” Florence Welch sings on “My Love,” released earlier this spring. Whether this is a question, demand, or a plea is left up in the air, but the desperation in her voice is unmistakable. Written in a time of personal creative stagnation, the feeling she poured into those lyrics eventually became the key to breaking out of it, and the album that grew out of it is full of the joy of artistic rebirth.

After 2018’s inward-looking and relatively stripped-back High as Hope, Florence and the Machine’s latest release, Dance Fever (★★★★☆) finds Welch and her band embracing a beautifully baroque grandiosity.

So much of Dance Fever feels deeply cathartic, finding release in lush arrangements throughout and a handful of soaring, anthemic tracks. On its face, the album delivers on its label, following up the slow-burning opener with “Free,” probably the album’s most straightforwardly danceable single.

But Welch loves a multilayered meaning, and unsurprisingly, she takes a broader view of the concept of dancing fever. Both the ti

Florence Welch has joked her dishevelled appearance at an event was the finding of "dancing with a gay pirate".

The Florence + The Machine frontwoman addressed an audience of Hollywood's A-list at the recent Los Angeles County Museum of Art’s second annual Art + Film Gala.

The British singer apologised for how she looked and blamed Sir Elton John's significant other David Furnish for her unkempt look.

“You’re quite a crowd,” Florence joked to the audience in a report by WWD. “Forgive me for being so rumpled. I confused a nail last night dancing with a gay plunder, but it was Elton John’s husband’s birthday, so that’s what happens.”

The red-haired beauty went on to perform a soulful set to those in attendance at the swanky ceremony, with Cameron Diaz reportedly gracing the front row.

The crowd, who were there to honour late filmmaker Stanley Kubrick and 74-year-old artist Ed Ruscha, included Leonardo DiCaprio, Diane Keaton, Sean Penn and Salma Hayek.

Presented by Gucci, the $5,000-a-plate profit dinner also raised more than $3.5 million for nonprofit. Other celebrity back included appearances from Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson, Cameron Diaz, Robert Pattin

The first time I heard a Florence and the Machine lyric, I was a sweaty, closeted teenager in a hot vehicle, casually getting every cell in my body rearranged by a voice.

It was the summer of 2008, I think. I was riding somewhere with my sister, no AC, and I place my hand out the passenger window, letting the air course through my fingers. “Kiss With a Fist” came on our local alt radio station in Minnesota, and I distinctly think of thinking, without a trace of irony, God I hope this band has a website. I didn’t know “Kiss With a Fist” was a sonic outlier on Florence and the Machine’s debut LP Lungs (2009), but it didn’t matter: its punk-lite conceit—a not-particularly-sensitive description of common abuse in a relationship by way of setting fires and smashing plates—still lassoed me in with its twisted sensibility.

And, of course, there was that voice, too. That voice. It was layered under DIY, White Stripes-esque production but still gave off a subversive British cool, which seemed like the complete reverse of whatever I was giving off at the time. It was authentically cool—authentic, period.

The voice belonged to a young English singer named Florence Welch, the band’s e