The cover of the Cut album featured The Slits topless, and while demonstrating to an extent an empowerment of women, in an ironic way, it could be interpreted as sexual objectification and perhaps attracted the attention of men for being so.
Me, personally, I was very happy to be sexually attractive, as well. That cover, to see it in context- if someone like Taylor Swift did that now, it would still be considered shocking. Take it back to the ‘70s, when the only time you saw a naked woman was in porn magazines, for men to gaze at, and consumed by a man. We never saw naked women unless they were being laid there for a man. So it was a huge thing for us to say, ‘Our bodies are ours. What’s wrong with us being naked? This nakedness, for once in our life, is not for you, mate.’
When The Slits toured, you had the opportunity to select the other acts on the bill. I would imagine the choice of Don Cherry was not what a punk audience was expecting. Perhaps more a choice for you than your fans?
That was very much the attitude. We can either go out like marionettes playing the same songs every night to the same people, but the whole punk ethos was do what you want and learn what you can, and change people’s expectations. We said let’s make this tour work for us as much as it works for anyone else. Punk audiences at the time were used to being challenged. They had never seen girls onstage before. It was groundbreaking stuff, anyway. They were slightly primed to get something they hadn’t expected.
I felt like Sid Vicious was, in a way, your greatest love.
No, absolutely not.
Not greatest boyfriend, but someone…
Somebody who affected me deeply?
Yes.
No. Ari has affected me more deeply than Sid. And Mick Jones has affected me more deeply.
Then, maybe as a kind of soulmate, at least for a time?
No, the pair of us together, it was too awkward. I always felt uncomfortable around him. We weren’t soulmates. We were together at the very beginning a lot. Because of that, there was a meaning there, you know? We sort of found ourselves, slightly, at the same time. He’s not resonated with me in my heart. I hung out with him at a very, very important time, but I’m afraid I cannot make more out of it than it was. He’s become this sort of weird icon, which I don’t particularly sanction. I don’t think he’s someone to look up to. He had great style, but he ended up playing CBGB with a load of old, junkie rockers playing horrible old rock-and-roll. I don’t respect that. I think I knew him at his best, before he got into drugs, and he had a good, intelligent brain. He made me see things differently, but it was a blip.
So, no deeper connection even in that brief time when he was at his best?
It wasn’t long before he started going downhill. He blew it pretty young. I was sad when he died, but I wasn’t surprised. He didn’t fulfill himself, and that irritates me with people, when they don’t fulfill their potential.
I believe a benefit of punk being pre-internet was that in order for the music to be heard, it meant bands had to work with labels and, even though a large part of punk was that ‘do-it-yourself, do what you want’ ethos, the relationship with the label actually strengthened the music. How did you see the relationship with record labels?
I’m a great believer in collaboration, musically. The Slits turned down record deals for two years. We, very much, steered ourselves. When we were ready to make a record, when we thought we were at the stage where we could play what was in our heads- we didn’t want our first record to be thrashy, three-chords- we wanted to make a classic record that stands the test of time. We only wanted to be on Island Records. We were four women who utterly knew what path we wanted to take. We wanted to be properly recorded. Absolutely, it was a better record. But, many people love the John Peel Sessions more. And that I can see, as well.
Had it existed 40 years ago, how would the internet and the relative independence of making and distributing music digitally have affected the punk movement?
When the internet emerged, that gave me a slight feeling of, ‘Oh, I think I could do this again.’ It was the first time in 30 years that maybe the climate is fertile enough and open enough. It felt D-I-Y again. It felt good. I can make music, and I know I’m not going to get signed in my 50s. No one is forward enough who runs a bloody record company, even a little indie, to sign me up. Only because of the internet will I be able to reach humans. The difference is the amount of people who have got airspace now. You had to fight to be heard then. You had to be utterly committed. It was hard, hard work. Funny as it is, it has resonated for 30 years. All the stuff now, that isn’t slow and difficult to make, will not resonate for 30 years.
Is it up to the young people to change that?
I don’t want to put them down. Young people are fine. It’s the environment. They’ve got to be careful not to wake up when they are 60 and think they have lived a completely wrong life.
Do you see a punk revolution ever happening again?
You can’t invent the printing press again. You can’t invent punk again. The river has flowed on and it’s a different river now. Revolution can still happen, but it’s much more subtle nowadays. It’s a different world now. No, it won’t happen again. Nor should it. The first duty of history is not to repeat itself. It’s got to be forward, forward, ahead, what’s around the corner, and let’s make it great.
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