Cathy Richardson has been leading Jefferson Starship since 2008, yet she frequently feels like the newcomer “all the time.”

“It genuinely makes me roll my eyes when individuals say, ‘You’re no Grace Slick and you never will be!'” Richardson recently expressed to UCR. “Well, of course, that’s true, but it doesn’t imply I don’t have a rightful place here.”

Richardson has been crafting her path in rock ‘n’ roll since the early ’90s, stepping into the vibrant Chicago music scene with her band, the Cathy Richardson Band, and collaborating with Jim Peterik of Survivor. In 2001, she portrayed Janis Joplin in the original off-Broadway production of Love, Janis, a role that came to her after experiencing a dream where Joplin visited her. “She f***ing picked me, you know?” Richardson shared with UCR.

Reaching her current status has not been without challenges. As a gay woman in the rock music industry, Richardson notes it was not a “huge secret” during her career, but she was publicly outed by the media in Chicago and chose to remain silent about it for a long time. “I was just afraid to come out because I didn’t want people throwing beer bottles at me,” she admits.

Now happily married, Richardson shares two children with her wife, Rachel. This summer, she will also be touring with Jefferson Starship. In celebration of Pride Month, UCR caught up with Richardson to discuss her role in continuing the band’s legacy as a non-original member and her experiences as a gay woman not only in rock music but also in contemporary America.

Jefferson Starship is set to perform alongside Kansas, .38 Special, and several other bands. What are you most excited about for these upcoming gigs with them?
I’m truly thrilled to tour with other bands, particularly those whose music I grew up listening to, like all these classic rock groups we’re collaborating with — Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Marshall Tucker Band. … I’m really eager to experience those songs live, to connect with the other bands. Meeting fellow musicians who share your journey is always exciting because being a traveling musician is a unique experience. I look forward to building lasting friendships and enjoying those classic songs every night, while also performing for larger audiences who might not be familiar with us — many may not realize that Jefferson Starship has been touring since the ’90s and evolving through various personnel changes. It’s a great time for the band; we’re performing better than ever. David Freiberg is going to turn 87 in August, and even though he has often played a supporting role throughout the years, he contributes so much to our sound. He plays bass and keys, covering many harmonies and lead vocals with me. His voice remains astonishingly strong and versatile at his age, which inspires hope in me!

After being a part of the band for 17 years, which is longer than most bands stay intact these days, do you still feel like the new member?
Yes, all the time. I know I’m not, but the public often perceives me differently. It’s fascinating because Grace Slick is an undeniable icon, and I fully appreciate the honor of singing her songs. As a long-time fan, I grew up idolizing figures like Janis Joplin, Grace, and Nancy Wilson. Grace, in particular, is the queen of rock and roll, and I take this role seriously. However, I also remember that she never took herself too seriously. It always makes me roll my eyes when people say, ‘You’re no Grace Slick and you never will be!’ Sure, that’s true, but it doesn’t mean I don’t belong here. I feel supported by the band members like Paul Kantner, Donny Baldwin, and David Freiberg. We’ve built a solid foundation through outstanding performances and by playing the songs that our audience loves. Our objective has been to restore Jefferson Starship to its former glory, and we are making remarkable progress.

READ MORE: When Grace Slick Blasted Off During Jefferson Airplane Live Debut

What does being part of a band celebrating its 50th anniversary mean to you and how do you uphold that legacy?
On one hand, it feels surreal if I reflect on it too much; on the other hand, it feels entirely right. I believe I am meant to be here. Long before I entertained the idea of joining the band — which was never a goal of mine, mind you, as I always aimed to be my own artist — I was simply a fan. As a kid, I would plead with my mom, “I’m 14, can I attend this concert?” even if it was a school night. She reluctantly agreed, and I went with a friend’s older sister to see Jefferson Starship in Indiana. I remember being in the last row, wishing I could meet the band. The first time I saw them was in 1983, featuring the lineup I adored as a child: Paul Kantner, Grace Slick, David Freiberg, Donny Baldwin, Craig Chaquico, Pete Sears, and Mickey Thomas. It feels utterly mind-blowing that I have become their singer.

You co-wrote a song with Grace Slick in 2017 titled “It’s About Time.” Back then, you were motivated by the ongoing women’s marches, but given the political and social changes since then, how do you feel about that hopeful message now?
I still struggle to comprehend that Kamala Harris didn’t win that election. It felt like we had the momentum, the movement, and the support, and then suddenly, it was gone. Waking up that morning was an incredibly harsh reality. Now, I feel like we are regressing toward a Handmaid’s Tale scenario.

The situation is genuinely terrifying, especially as a gay person. Since January, the day after the election, I’ve been on edge because I am aware of what is outlined in Project 2025 and how it’s currently being executed. They can deny it, claiming, “I never read it,” but others have seen it, and it’s a six-month plan that leads us up to July, which is fast approaching. One significant aspect of that plan is the potential eradication of gay marriage.

As a married individual with two children, who is listed as a co-parent on their birth certificates in Illinois, I am concerned about what might happen if the government acts similarly to how they did with Roe v. Wade, reverting authority back to the states. This shift makes traveling across the United States increasingly unsafe, which is incredibly surreal. We fought hard to achieve what we have, and to see it threatened by people who don’t understand how it impacts others is profoundly unsettling. This agenda is damaging, creating unnecessary suffering for those simply trying to live their lives. Life is already challenging enough, given the economic climate and other pressures, without the added concern for your health, civil rights, and citizenship status. It’s genuinely frightening. I’ve even started making plans, contemplating when the moment will come that I decide, “Okay, family, it’s time to move to Canada.”

When you began your professional journey, there were artists like Indigo Girls, Melissa Etheridge, and Tracy Chapman—now icons within the LGBTQ community—but back then, the landscape was quite different. Can you share your experience entering the music industry during a time when being openly LGBTQ was not as accepted?
I thought to myself, “Heck yes, I’m staying in the closet.” I had already spent so much time there. I mustered the courage to come out to my parents, but I wasn’t prepared for the public scrutiny. My upbringing was very sheltered. Living in the suburbs of Chicago felt restricted, and that was our escape to the big city, where we would sneak off to the Rock and Roll McDonald’s. It was a predominantly white and conservative environment, so I was content to remain in the closet. I didn’t want to be labeled solely as “Lesbian Singer Cathy Richardson.” Sure, I’m gay, but I’m also a singer, and my art encompasses a wider range of topics. I didn’t want to be pigeonholed. When I first heard Melissa Etheridge, I felt an overwhelming sense of depression, thinking, “Oh no, she beat me to it!” But I was also inspired by other artists like the Indigo Girls, Bonnie Raitt, Michelle Shocked, and Tracy Chapman.

I was eventually outed by the press in Chicago, although it wasn’t much of a secret. I had built a considerable lesbian following, but I wasn’t performing at exclusively gay venues. I played wherever bands typically performed, and my shows often attracted a diverse audience. There were always many lesbians in the crowd, and I had been in a long-term relationship for 12 years. Everyone knew my partner was essentially my wife, even though we weren’t legally married, as she handled my merchandise. One day, during a radio interview, I mentioned why I hadn’t come out publicly. I explained that people could face severe consequences for being gay, and that was why I had kept it a secret. The following month, I found myself on the cover of the local LGBTQ publication with the headline, “Cathy Richardson Comes Out.” I thought, “Well, I guess I’m out now.”

After over 30 years in the music industry, what advice would you give to aspiring young LGBTQ artists trying to make their mark in 2025?
The industry remains perplexing to me. I can offer insights on running a band and navigating touring, but the main advice I can give is to focus on creating the best music you can. Pour everything you have into producing high-quality recordings and then take those songs to the stage. Some artists achieve success through algorithms and other digital means, but I’m a bit out of touch with that, so I can’t speak to it. What I do know is that performing live has been my way to sell records. Playing even 100 shows a year in your local area helps build a following, and then the media will take notice. When you sell tickets and records, you’re establishing your business. That’s really the best advice I have.

Experience Cathy Richardson Performing ‘White Rabbit’ with Jefferson Starship