I grew up on the Spice Girls. Wearing awkward crop tops, jelly shoes and glitter lip gloss, while my sister played Pac from the bedroom. Cassette tapes rolling as I dance to “sweet like chocolate boy” with a Gameboy Colour on charge, waiting for my hips to stop swaying. I lived for Nirvana, looking back on yesteryears and ‘real’ music. I was skateboarding before it was cool and I would ride my bike for hours with the boyz in the hood, watching old films when we got back, tired, suntanned. Sunny D on deck.
Oi! I was practically a member of More Fire Crew, you know my brother knows them right? Freestyling comes easy on the field at school, I can roll with the best of the boys, with beats playing through a Nokia built for war. My Mum came from Disco and my Father loves Luther Vandross, they’re the soundtracks to Sundays cleaning. I would roll out of bed to watch My Wife and Kids, That’s So Raven and Kenan & Kel – because you know I love that orange soda, “I do, I do, I do-oooh!”. American shows had the best bedrooms, always cooler than mine. Then I’d run to school, forever keeping those edges slick, shimmering in the bleak of London.
I am one generation — many voices.
Words by Cherée for 94Five
Photos by Thursday