Interview: Carleen Anderson

Carleen Anderson is best known for her impact on the charts in the 90s. Apparently Nothing, with Carleen singing alongside the Young Disciples, is still a song I sing around the house, and is one of the few I don’t get told off by my kids for doing so.

Now, however, she has moved way on from the land of commercial RnB and has chosen to immerse herself deep into her heritage. I caught up with her before her gig at St George’s to talk about her roots, what it means to be female in the music industry, and how she overcame the struggles of motherhood through music.

Tell us about Cage Street Memorial, your new ‘Tribal Opera’…

My grandfather built our family home on Cage Street in Houston, Texas. They raised me there. People tend to focus on my ‘celebrity family’ (ed. James Brown is her godfather and his first bandmate Bobby Byrd is her stepfather) and whilst there is that link, celebrities weren’t around me growing up. I wanted to write this album to focus on my grandparents and give them a tribute that I haven’t been able to write whilst under the influence of labels. They’ve done so much for me. I was abandoned, but they showed me joy and love in a very dark time. I also wanted to set an example to my son (ed. Bobby Anderson of Fortune Drive fame) to show you can outgrow difficult situations.

My grandfather was carpenter and a minister. On one end of Cage Street, we had the first area where freed slaves had settled. The end of slavery took a long time and we all witnessed the tail end first hand. It was basically swamp land. My grandfather built the houses and churches for them.

My auntie sang at Emmett Till‘s funeral which was held in Chicago – he was a 14 year-old black boy who went to Mississippi to visit relatives. While he was there he apparently whistled at a white woman. They came and took him from his uncle’s house at 2am and beat him, dismembered him and then lowered his parts into the river. It was a huge deal regarding protests. Martin Luther King did the eulogy, my auntie sang at the funeral. My auntie’s involvement in the civil rights movement was very important. My grandfather was the opposite. He wasn’t in the right generation for fighting.

How did you transition into music?

I had no intention at all to earn my keep from singing. I had studied music and literature and creative writing with aims of being a school teacher. Then Ronald Reagan became president and took arts out of schooling – at that time black people weren’t hired at private schools. So when he came into office and made these cuts, my dreams of becoming a teacher ended almost instantaneously. I was in my final year to getting my degree. I had one semester to go but it was cut from me.

This opportunity came to open a show for my stepfather – god bless him, he was a beautiful man. He convinced me to open a show for JB Allstars. It was there that I met and later joined The Young Disciples. I hadn’t set out to do it at all, but they obviously saw something in me that I didn’t, and the rest is history as they say.

It was more for my son at the time. The political climate wasn’t great and I saw this as a way of being able to support him properly. Raising a black boy allowed many concerns to approach me. How do I give him the best shot at life? I saw these men of African descent here in England who had a really strong sense of self, and to me it was because they could touch their background, without the cloud of slavery immediately on their backs. Their kinfolk who came from the motherland and had a greater outlook on life and their shoulders rolled in a different way.

Racism is still rife here, but to a different degree. My son grew up around people of all colours but my worry was that he would always be classed differently if we stayed in the South. I was just trying to figure out where we could stay for more than six months – somewhere where I would be employed and be able to send my son to school. From where I stood, as an American raised in the sixties, the UK was a far better option in terms of racism. It made sense. My son would be around all these different cultures which in itself is an education. I moved here in 1990 and did all I could to save my money as a clerk and make that move.

How do you feel about the music industry now compared to when you first started out?

I was always held back by the industry when it came to what was released and written about. This album is already being hailed as my final piece but for me, in my soul, it is my first album. Its fully self-funded, every note is mine. The creativity has been a completely different experience. I have had an amazing platform in the industry but it wasn’t my forte. This album is my affinity.

The industry isn’t kind to women who have their own ideas. If you cater to it then you aren’t helping women. I don’t think I ever really bought into what they wanted me to be and what to sing. You still see it. Women are very rarely allowed to use their brains.

I did have very supportive male mentors, Paul Weller and Nigel Kennedy. They never saw me as a ‘girl musician.’ They were never condescending. I was their equal. So as many that weren’t like that, there were some who were. It’s still there, though. I went to parliament with a company called ‘Women Make Music’ specifically to address these issues. You just get told ‘you are eye candy’ and that you couldn’t possibly do all of the elements to become a musician. Men in music don’t generally believe women have the capacity to produce and be real musicians. Because of that I did forfeit a lot of my beliefs to get my son through school. I saw the big gigs go when I let the sexist elements go from my career. I self-funded everything when he left school but it has been worth it. I’m struggling in terms of where I was to now, but I am at last myself within my art. I turned sixty this year, and I should be retiring – but I’m just getting started.

Thank you Carleen.

The album is a vocal painting of her true history. The audience soaked up her story in total awe. She has the ability to command her band in an effortless ways likened to Nina Simone and Ella Fitzgerald. Looking around the room during Be No Puppet, I could feel a surge of emotions fill the room. She told everyone to know yourself despite any troubles, and Carleen has known troubles. She is one of the greatest voices of our time and is now a superior writer. The ability to trace almost 100 years into your family’s history and present it in such an articulate and beautiful way is spectacular and commendable. Carleen is mesmerising, humble and beyond any artist I have seen this year.  Welcome back Carleen, or should we say, welcome.

Cage Street Memorial is available on Spotify or online at www.cagestreetmemorial.com