Neneh Cherry is best known for her 1989 club classic “Buffalo Stance.” TBH, that song (and her appearance performing it on “Top of the Pops” while visibly pregnant) would be enough to secure her legacy as a legend as far as I’m concerned. But that’s just — ahem — one thread of Cherry’s tapestry. She was raised by the seminal jazz musician Don Cherry, she sang with the Slits, she modeled in Japan, she collaborated with trip-hop pioneer Tricky, and she met Muhammad Ali on the street in New York. Cherry has a new memoir called “A Thousand Threads.” It’s really good. Lots of people write memoirs. Neneh Cherry has actually lived a life that merits one. Don’t get me wrong: As a fan of the genre, I don’t mind when a celebrity memoir is bad. But even Zadie Smith thinks this one is good. I got to speak with Cherry about her extraordinary life and career. I heartily encourage you to read the entire interview here, my Lil’ Horsies (trying out the new name for you readers!), but in the meantime, we’ve included an excerpt below. The following interview has been edited for length and clarity. In the 1980s, when lots of your book takes place, there was the rise of Thatcher and Reagan and AIDS was tearing across the world. Right now, having lived through that era, what do you feel is different? What do you see as the same? History quite literally repeats itself, doesn’t it? I spoke to my Auntie Barbara — Don’s sister — who lives in L.A. the other day. She was born in Oklahoma in the ’30s. I felt a sadness in her that made me want to cry; to look into her eyes and to see what she was still having to see in her lifetime, as a 90-year-old woman, broke my heart. I have to contain my fear a lot of the time, because I am quite terrified of the future. But I know that how I’ve survived in my lifetime is to protect the things that I love and the people that I love and the things that I believe in. I was also struck by your relationship with Ari Up from the Slits. You wrote that today she would be accused of cultural appropriation. As much as the conversations that we’re having are the conversations we need to be having, there’s also a risk that we’re becoming incredibly strict: “You can’t do that, you can’t do this.” Ari did what Ari was going to do. As her sister, I would say there was nothing about her that was about stealing culture. She was really into reggae music and sound system culture, she went to live in Jamaica, she was a dancehall queen named “Medusa.” No one questioned whether she should be there. We have to allow ourselves to be inspired, but honor what you’re inspired by respectfully and not take something to make it your own in a colonial way. But, yeah, I’m sure a lot of people today would be like, “Who is this? She’s got these long dreads.” I mean, I’ll be honest: I’m going to be suspicious of any White girl with dreads. But reading your book, I was like, “Would we have missed the Slits today?” I think a lot of us have pretty good instincts. Somebody comes at you who’s completely full of s--- — you kind of know it. But if someone is doing something with a lot of heart, you can’t just turn around and go, “You can’t do that.” You’ve got to check them out to reach a decision. It reminds me of that definition of obscenity: “I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it.” Yeah, exactly. In the book, I loved the way you wrote about being visibly pregnant in a crop top when you performed “Buffalo Stance” on British television. Why do you think that image still resonates with so many people? Because it wasn’t how it was supposed to be done. Therefore, it had to be done. Zadie Smith blurbed your book. How did that happen? The first time I met her was on the canal in West London with my husband. She ran past me and I was a total fangirl: “Oh my God, that was Zadie Smith, she’s so gorgeous.” And she came running back and came up and said she likes me and it was the best thing that’s ever happened. She sent me an email that she actually liked the book and I don’t know what to do with that information. It’s so deep. It’s very wonderful. |