posted on 21 Dec 2015

Bedsit Disco Queen by Tracey Thorn

The emergence of punk in 1976 changed the world for lots of unlikely people. Not only did it give a voice to the young, formerly voiceless working class outcasts – many of them chippy and opinionated – it also allowed plenty of quieter, more reticent middle class teenagers to emerge from their suburban bedrooms and create a bit of noise.

Independent record labels were clamouring for talent and in addition to the three chord wonders thrashing out two minutes thirty seconds of sonic assault, they found a whole new stratum to mine – the art school set. Determined to experiment and show their sensitive side, the suburban tunesmiths were busily crafting a new post-punk musical identity to carry us into the 1980s.

Somewhere near the forefront of these bands was the partnership of Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt, otherwise known as Everything But The Girl. Tracey has now told her version of her rise to semi-stardom in the first part of her autobiography, Bedsit Disco Queen - and it’s an irresistible read. EBTG went through several changes of style and were able, in quite unlikely style, to stay relevant to audiences right through into the dance revolution of the late 90s when their remixed version of the song Missing was a chart favourite and Thorn was a guest vocalist on Massive Attack’s seminal second album, Protection.

Now a wife and mother, but still doing guest sets and solo work, Thorn tells her story in a diffident and self-effacing way that is positively endearing. No show-biz flashiness here; even when she’s rubbing shoulders with her own heroes and some of the biggest names in music she talks about it as if it’s all been happening to someone else. Thorn constantly understates the creative and innovative body of work she was at the centre of and she is frank to the point of being utterly disarming. Not that everything went smoothly for Tracey and Ben – the terrible illness that almost killed Watt bought the career of EBTG as a band to a premature and crashing halt – but even through these dreadful times Thorn was never resentful, petulant or self-pitying in a way I suspect other pop stars may well have been.

One of the great pleasures of this book is that it’s like spending time with a friend and someone who is resolutely normal – even when she bumps into George Michael on the school run or has to deal with her child noticing his mom is the person singing on the music playing in the shop she remains the ordinary woman in the street.

Thorn has a voice like an angel and the EBTG album Love Not Money is a particular favourite of mine. Now I know she can also write like an angel and while I’m not surprised about this I am particularly delighted that a second volume – Naked At The Albert Hall – is now available and I’m looking forward to diving back into her world.

Terry Potter

December 2015