Holy, Glóeys latest song is a queer prayer. Their voice builds its own cathedral.
There are songs that you don’t simply listen to, but step into and inhabit. When I played Holy, the newest track by Icelandic non-binary artist Glóey, I felt as if I were suddenly standing inside a cathedral. Glóey’s voice, multiplied into a rich, layered arrangement, becomes a choir. The space trembles, filled with sound that evokes sacred chanting, liturgy and meditation. And at the same time, Holy transforms the language of religion into something entirely different: a hymn to queerness.
The song, composed entirely from Glóey’s own voice, is their second release this year, following Away, a piece about loving across distance. Their music feels like a love letter to the queer community, written with tenderness, pride and fascination for the diversity that sustains and protects.
At the heart of Holy lies a powerful question:
How is my beautiful queerness anything but holy?
It is a question shaped by lived experience. Glóey describes being deeply drawn to faith, ritual and prayer as a child, yet losing connection to that spiritual world after coming out as queer in their teenage years. Only after embracing a non-binary identity, experiencing queer love and finding belonging in a trans community did they rediscover what holiness could mean.
The opening verses of Holy explore queerness, polyamory and trans identity, asking how these realities could ever have been framed as wrong or dangerous. The song becomes a plea for a future that is simple, devoted and filled with love: a prayer for a world where queer lives no longer need to explain or defend themselves.
“Holy is my prayer,” says Glóey, about the creation process.
It makes me angry that ignorance barred queer people from faith. But change is happening.
Reflecting on the moment they knew the song was complete, Glóey adds that she’s terrible at letting things go. “I either throw things out immediately or work on them for months. This song was written and recorded over almost a year. I lived in four different apartments during that time, and parts of the track were recorded in each place, which feels significant for this chapter of my life.”
The turning point came when a few trusted friends listened to the song and urged them to release it.
“They told me: Glóey, it’s time to let this song live in the world. I let go of the idea of a perfect moment and followed my heart. All that matters is that other queer people hear it and hopefully feel the safety and joy I’m trying to portray.”
Working exclusively with their own voice was both vulnerable and liberating according to Glóey.
“It was a challenge because it feels very exposed, but also empowering. It showed me how much I can do with only the tools I carry at all times. Choirs are one of the most beautiful instruments, but the music usually performed doesn’t reflect my life or values, so I wanted to bring those worlds together.”
My dream is to record Holy with a choir of trans voices, ideally in a church, with queer people in the audience.
The most difficult part was embracing simplicity.
“I had to let go of lines I loved and ideas for dramatic arrangements. But in the end, simplicity and repetition are what make the song comforting. Honestly, Holy could be ten verses long. I have a lot to say about what I think is holy, and none of it is what the evangelical church would agree with,” they laugh.
For Glóey, the song is explicitly spiritual.
“I always enjoyed praying. Prayer was a way to meditate before I knew what meditation was. Holy is my prayer, reminding me that everything holy is already within me and in my community. Holiness isn’t reserved for the biblically divine; it’s in the love and acceptance we give ourselves every day.”
Reclaiming sacred space
Asked what spirituality means to queer people today, Glóey reflects says that queer people have been pushed out of traditional religion, especially Christianity, so many rejected it completely.
“Personally, I don’t like organized religion, but I think faith is vital. It makes me angry that ignorance barred queer people from faith. But change is happening.”
That belief shapes their vision for the future of the project.
“My dream is to record Holy with a choir of trans voices, ideally in a church, with queer people in the audience. Not just a recording, but a shared moment of reclaiming faith. Stepping into sacred spaces again means forgiving parts of myself that needed to reject faith for years and welcoming new versions of me that feel safe exploring spirituality.”
For Glóey, divinity is found in authenticity.
“Inventing yourself and living fully and loudly is truly divine. My gods are my queer role models, the people who inspire me to love myself and others every day.”
Holy has been released on all major streaming platforms.
Mix & mastering: Addi 800
Visual design: Oddný Svava Steinarsdóttir