The gossip: Beth Ditto and her band were indie rock's most explosive little secret. Now the cat's out of the bag

Yes, she looks like she walked out of a John Waters movie. Yes, she's barely over 5 feet tall. And, yes, she likes to strip off her clothes onstage and contort her full-figured body like she's involved in some punk-rock version of Cirque du Soleil. But as the lead singer of the Gossip, 26-year-old Arkansas native Beth Ditto has established herself as a force of nature in what's left of American underground music, a woman who's got pipes, passion, and ideas--and is not afraid to wave them (among other things) in your face. Now, after eight years, three albums, and one widely circulated photograph of Ditto out clubbing with Kate Moss, the Gossip are finally beginning to inspire the kind of widespread chatter that their name implies. This is due in no small part to Standing in the Way of Control (Kill Rock Stars), the trio's frenetic and soulful album, the title track of which has become a de facto anthem for the movement to legalize same-sex marriage in the United States. The Gossip, though, are definitely not a one-note band--their songs, like rock stars, come in all shapes and sizes.

STEPHEN MOOALLEM: How does a woman like you from a place like Arkansas get to be where you are now?

BETH DITTO: It's simple: My friend Kathy Mendonca's credit card. There was a solid group of us in Arkansas living in this little town called Searcy, and Kathy was the oldest. One day she announced that she was going to Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington. When you're college-age, credit card companies bombard you with applications. So Kathy applied and got one. She paid for our friend Nathan [Howdeshell, aka Brace Paine, the Gossip's guitarist] to move to Olympia with her and helped my friend Jerry move there too. Then, when I graduated from high school a couple of years later, she paid for me to come out there. When you're 18 years old and fresh off the truck from Arkansas with your best friends, and two of you are gay--and not only that, but there's the ocean nearby and there's saltwater and feminists and a college and a mall and a bus....It was the best choice I ever made as an 18-year-old baby dyke. That's when we got the band together. Kathy was our drummer. She's not in the band anymore. On our next record I'm going to write a song called "Kathy's Credit Card." I think she's still in debt because of that card--it was totally maxed out.

SM: When did you start singing?

BD: When you're a kid, especially if you're a girl, so much of what is put on you depends on your looks. People go, "Oh, my God, you're such a cute girl." But I didn't really have that going for meal was a chubby little girl. I never got to wear a bikini when all of the other girls were. The only thing I got any little bit of encouragement for as a kid was singing. So I was always like, "Well, if it cuts me some slack, I'll do it." I sang at home. I sang at church. I sang at school. I grew up in Judsonia, which is on the Little Red River. It's even smaller than Searcy. My brother liked honky-tonk music and he would play drums with my cousin Kenny Kidd--who was this amazing, self-taught, genius piano player--while my dad ran sound for them at these honky-tonk clubs. So I grew up kind of dancing on my dad's feet at all these honky-tonks. That's what music was like in Arkansas. Kenny Kidd--we have amazing names in my family. Ditto is my real last name, by the way. My dad's name is Homer, and my mom's name is Velmyra. [laughs] Amazing.

SM: I'm assuming that you were into punk rock at least on some level. Was there any way to get that stuff where you lived?

BD: There was a WaI-Mart where you'd go buy your records. You couldn't buy a Nirvana tape there, but you could buy oldies compilations--that's where a lot of the soul influences in the Gossip come from. You couldn't get MTV in my town either--it was banned because it wasn't Christian, and our whole county was ruled by this Christian college nearby. But Nathan's dad had satellite cable, so he had this whole other window on the world. He also made these mix tapes with the Ramones and the Germs and Sonic Youth. Then he started putting on shows and writing things and creating this amazing, queer-friendly, feminist-focused scene in the middle of Christianconservative Arkansas.

SM: What was it like, then, discovering who you are and the things that appeal to you and realizing that they're either banned where you live or that there's no open diaIogue about them?

BD: When you're a kid you don't know anything better. Your yard is the end of the world. Then, as you get older, you get to go across the street--and when you're a little older, across the tracks. Where I grew up the choices were God, babies, or drugs--and I didn't want any of those things. In high school I had a boyfriend, and I remember thinking that I just wanted to get pregnant, so I wouldn't have to make a decision about my life. I didn't want to come out of the closet because I'd have to deal with, you know.., one of the hardest things I ever had to do was tell myself that there was no God and go on with that idea. I refused to hold on to a God that hates me. So it was really scary to come into your own as a person. Now I can't even believe that fear was there. I'm still afraid of the devil, though, in a weird way. [laughs]