"If you need therapy, get therapy" - Ezra Furman is here to enjoy himself.

Concorde 2, Madeira Drive, Brighton, Thursday, February 18

On the face of it, Brighton, a place known for celebrating non-traditional sexual and gender identities, should embrace Ezra Furman, a charismatic songwriter from Chicago who has written freely about his own gender fluidity and bisexuality.

Yet – to his surprise – he was once the victim of a homophobic slur at a bar in the city.

While clearly the comment has stuck with him, he reasons that “sometimes the gayest towns have pretty strong backlash.”

Aside from that unsavoury incident, Furman says that some of his favourite shows have been in Brighton and he would like to spend more time here – an objective he can fulfil around his gig at Concorde 2.

As a performer who is “pictured in a dress on posters in major cities around the world,” Furman has previously said that his unorthodox gender identity has "dovetailed" with depression as some quarters of society refuse to accept him for what he is.

“It takes some very enthusiastic self-acceptance to overcome the messages thrown at me from all directions that I am aberrant, embarrassing, hideous, whatever,” he says today.

“Yeah, it can trigger some serious depression to hear those messages. But I am f***ing beautiful.”

As artistic evidence of this defiant stance, witness the single Body Was Made from last year’s breakout Perpetual Motion People; a multi-instrumental record by turns tormented, hyperactive and ultimately life-affirming: "Your body is yours at the end of the day/don’t let the hateful try and take it away."

The ‘hateful’ in Body Was Made is "directed at the wider world that generally rejects gender non-conformity and is riddled with many kinds of hate,” says Furman.

Yet Body Was Made – and the whole topic of gender fluidity – is not as simple as merely reclaiming an unorthodox identity for yourself despite the haters.

There is a paradox in the song: yes, your body is yours, but it’s also been given to you whether you feel it suits you or not.

Furman sees this as the song’s “greatest weakness…but it also reflects a difficult in thinking about gender in general. I wanted to insist on accepting my body as it is, but if you’ve got gender dysphoria that’s not always what you need to do.”

Constantly shifting identity is a recurrent theme on Perpetual Motion People, with Furman musing that his "personality’s cut up into pieces" on the simultaneously anguished and glorious Lousy Connection. The song, amongst other things, is about “not having a true self…wondering how an omniscient Judge would judge me. Asking, what’s actually real about me?”

While Furman, like a lot of us, is prone to such identity crises, his music has impacted many listeners in a meaningful way, from the relatively high profile – Guardian writer Michael Hann has written about how Furman’s music, and specifically his energetic live show, helped him in a time of great personal depression – to the scores of young fans that flock to his shows.

“It is literally my favourite part of what I do,” says Furman of seeing these kinds of reactions. The Chicagoan, however, refutes the idea that music can be therapy.

“If you need therapy, get therapy. If you need medicine, get medicine. Music is not helpful with regard to mental health except as a way to enjoy yourself and have something to do. The answer to problems of gender and of mental health are going to come from people who love you and, for a lot of us, including myself, getting help from professionals. And if it looks like there’s no one around who will help you, let me assure you, there are places you can go where people will adore you.

"Stay strong and find those people and places as soon as you can.”

If music isn’t therapeutic for Furman as such, playing live clearly offers him some form of release.

He goes at his shows with the energy and colour of a young Jonathan Richman – as critics have noted – and says there isn’t another place he “can get that kind of high.”

“There’s sometimes a fear so strong, telling me not to do what I’m doing, to just be quiet and not draw attention to myself. Pushing against and through that gives me a wild momentum onstage, like when you batter through a locked door.”

Edwin Gilson

Starts 7pm, tickets £12.50/£14.50. Call 01273 673311.