Kelli Ali on Spirituality, Sneaker Pimps, and Finding Purpose Beyond Fame
Emerging from Birmingham’s gritty streets to international acclaim, Kelli Ali has become one of music’s most quietly radical forces, conjuring everything from the dark, seductive allure of ’90s electronica to the haunting intimacy of stripped-down folk.
After rising to prominence as the distinctive voice of Sneaker Pimps, Ali helped define the unmistakable sound of late-’90s trip-hop. Tracks including “6 Underground” and “Spin Spin Sugar” became emblematic of a generation searching for beauty in darkness, pairing brooding beats with Ali’s otherworldly vocals.
But rather than remain tethered to the genre that made her an undeniable star, she embarked on a fearless solo journey, exploring new sonic territories with each genre-blurring release.
Her 2003 debut solo album, Tigermouth, showcased a shift toward dreamy pop and introspective songwriting, while later works such as Rocking Horse (2008) immersed listeners in lush, acoustic soundscapes inspired by folk, classical, and world music traditions.
Through the years, her music has grown increasingly more intimate and personal, often grappling with themes of transformation, mysticism, and inner strength. Albums including Band of Angels (2013) and Ghostdriver (2020) reveal an artist defiantly unafraid to reinvent herself — blending cinematic arrangements, poetic lyrics, and haunting melodies that weave rich, immersive sonic experiences.
Always drawn to the edges of the mainstream, Ali has also collaborated with experimental producers and ventured into fine art, creating work that reflects a restless, boundary-pushing, and radical free spirit.
In a creative industry that’s often overly dictated by formulas, Kelli Ali remains a fearless rebel — boldly forging her own path and proving that true artistry means breaking the rules on all your own terms.
KP: You grew up in Birmingham, a city known for its rich musical history. How did that environment shape your early sense of identity both as a person and as an artist?
KA: It's interesting because it's a very different place now from how it was back then, you know? It was pretty gritty, and there was a lot of poverty. To me, it was an interesting time because it was a beautiful struggle growing up in Birmingham. There was a lot of depth to it and a lot of love. We didn't really have much growing up in terms of material stuff, but there was a lot of good spirit. I really hated school and I kind of hated growing up in the environment that I often found myself in. My dad was an alcoholic, so it was hard times, you know?
I had to struggle with a lot as a young kid, but there were some beautiful females in my life — my mom, my sister, my niece, and my grandmother. We had this brilliant story, when I think back on it. It was a long time ago now, but it did shape me in ways that I didn't really understand when I was growing up there.
I hated it — I left when I was very young, and I came to London because that was always, to me, what a city should be, you know? I felt like that was what it should have been like to live in a city, but Birmingham always felt so downtrodden and small and dirty. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to eat, but what was great was that there were a handful of brilliant music bars that you could go to and listen to the Pixies and all this great punk music. There were a lot of places to go see live music at, too. I went to Sonic Youth when I was about 15, for the Goo album. Seeing them really made me feel sure that I wanted to be Kim Gordon, but I ended up on a much different trail. [Laughs]. I was so into Nirvana and punk, too.
But yeah, Birmingham shaped everything, as wherever you grow up typically does — in both good ways and bad.
KP: That sounds amazing, really. The UK from the ‘70s to the ‘90s always seemed like such an incredible place filled with the most interesting culture.
Throughout your career, you’ve navigated the very male-dominated worlds of trip-hop and alternative music — what did that teach you about agency, boundaries, and voice? Is there anything that you’ve learned that you’d like to pass on?
KA: That's such a great question! It's interesting, because the entire world is male-dominated. There's no area that isn’t male-dominated in a system that's male-dominated, but for me, I always had to have a strong voice because I was always being pushed around as a kid. I was little, and I couldn't really fight, but I often had to fight at school because I always wanted to learn stuff. I used to get bullied because of that. I had to have really thick skin, you know? So by the time I entered that world, to be honest, I had been through so much as a teenager and a young adult that the music business was nothing. It was almost laughable — there was nothing that anybody could do or say to me that hadn't been done ten times over in my early life already, so it was actually a walk in the park.
In the music industry, if somebody spoke to me in a way that I didn't like, I'd quickly put them in their place. It was kind of to my detriment in some ways, because I had such a huge wall around me in terms of having to protect myself — I always had to fight for my space and to validate myself. I always had to push my way to the front of things, so I didn't really have too many problems in that sense. If I felt injustice, I quickly called it out. At the same time, I understood later how that kind of ostracized me in many ways, because you have to be diplomatic to get on in this world, no matter what area you're in and whether you're a man or a woman.
But I've seen injustices on both sides, you know? The world may be male-dominated, but men still suffer in a way as well. It's a push and pull. There are some great things about the music industry, and there are some great things about the world, and there are some terrible things about the music industry and there are some terrible things about the world. No matter who you are, you'll have to fight for something, whether it's the patriarchy or whatever, you know? To live is to struggle, so I never took it too seriously — and I still don't.
Women can be real twits just like men can; I dealt with some real idiot females in the music industry as well. There are quite damaged people at the top who, for whatever reason, use their power to keep people down. There was a lot of jealousy as well, so it wasn't just the male-dominated industry that I had to grapple with. It was just people in general — it still is, and it will always be.
KP: There are certainly key differences between your work with Sneaker Pimps and your solo discography. As you said, “In Sneaker Pimps I was mainly just the singer, so when I decided to write my album, I wanted to draw on things that have influenced me, like the Pixies, Sonic Youth, The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, people like that.”
Some people find the process of going solo daunting, and others find it incredibly liberating. What was that time like for you? How did you seek to view that transformation?
KA: Wow, you are such a great thinker. You have a beautiful, very insightful way of looking at things.
KP: Oh, thank you! That’s a huge compliment coming from you. I just started conducting these conversations regularly this year, and it’s been very enjoyable for me, but I’m certainly no journalist! [Laughs]. That’s such a kind thing to say; I really appreciate it.
KA: No, it's very true. You can really see things. I know that we would have great conversations as well, because you can tell when a person is intellectual — you know when a person thinks about things in a certain way. But back to the question!
Going solo wasn't really a choice for me, you know? There was a time, actually, that I wasn't going to do anything. I sort of went into this hibernation mode because I was a bit shell-shocked, if I’m honest. I just figured that I was going to do what I hadn’t had time to do for years while I was on tour. I just wanted to take things in and listen to all different kinds of music, really forcing myself to listen to very avant-garde work and maybe even some things that I didn’t even necessarily enjoy. I started exploring because I think I'd had a massive time of output, putting a lot of myself out into the world, and I think it’s very much about yin and yang as an artist — knowing when to take things in and knowing when to put things out.
I took some time, about two years I think, and then I just naturally started writing. I got myself a little synthesizer and just started putting down ideas, and then my beautiful friend, Derek Birkett at One Little Indian Records, reached out and asked how I was doing. I said that it was kind of a difficult time for me because I was on the dole, pretty penniless, but I was also sort of in this creative element again. I think the times I loved the most were when I didn’t have too many commitments — when I was just able to read and go to galleries. But I was really kind of poor when Derek got in touch. I was starting to wonder if everything was just my fifteen minutes of fame sort of thing, you know? But he gave me a deal, and that was it. I went in to record Tigermouth with Rick Nowels.
Being solo obviously is a great privilege, because you get to sort of call all the shots, whereas a band is much more of a… I'd like to say democracy, but it's a bit of a dogfight, you know what I mean? I enjoyed my solo career thoroughly, although I know that it never really attained the sort of commercial heights anywhere near what Sneaker Pimps did.
KP: Well, speaking of — we’re not a gossip rag, so I’m not looking to get into the specifics of all of this — but when it comes to your departure from Sneaker Pimps, a lot has been made of the fact that you were asked to depart due to your gender in some way, shape, or form — being the highlight of the group in the press, them not wanting to be seen as a “gimmicky” female-fronted band, or the fact that they didn’t think that female vocals would suit the music that they wanted to produce moving forward.
So without getting into specifics, do you feel that the break was due to your gender in any way, shape, or form, and if not, have you ever felt that you being a woman has impacted your career, for better or for worse?
KA: It's really tricky to know. We're friends — I'm really good friends with Liam, and I haven't spoken to Chris for a long time, but that's not because I don't love him. I think you'd have to ask them. I personally think that it was just that we were kids, you know? We all had massive egos. It was just one of those things… I mean, a lot of people could look into it and say that it was because of a lot of things, but I was a bit tricky to be around as well. I wasn't the love and light kind of person back then that I am now.
KP: Well, we all grow, right?
KA: Exactly. Well, hopefully we do! But when it comes to an exact reason, I think I’d be remiss to go into that because it was a long, long time ago, and I don’t think that it would be fair to them to say that I thought it was this or that when at the end of the day, we were just young.
I'm just glad it happened because it freed me, you know? It really freed me to do all of these things. What it taught me the most was that a lot of artists become artists because they want to be free. They get commercial success, and then they become slaves. You see it time and time again.
I didn't become an artist because I wanted to do interviews 24/7 or wanted to be on tour playing at venues but never even seeing the countries, just being shipped in and out of arenas. And then before you know it, your show's got to get bigger and bigger. You start becoming some kind of moron who just has to keep up with everybody else.
Actually, that would never have been right for me, so looking back, it was a ticket out. I'm absolutely delighted that things panned out the way that they did. It taught me that there's a game to be played. When you look at all of the greatest rock bands, they're playing a game. They're all pretty much chained to this — it's not a 9-to-5, it's 24/7 — and that's why so many of them lose their minds. It's a total juxtaposition to their true natures as artists. You should be free.
KP: Success is a trap.
KA: Yeah, it's a honey trap — that's so right. Commerce is a great enemy of art. It's really a sign of the times where what’s constantly force-fed to us is that money is the aim. As I've gotten older, I've realized that for a system to exist, it requires a pyramid — lots and lots of people at the bottom end struggling to get to the top. Of course they never ever will get to the top of the pyramid, but the struggle keeps the pyramid intact. This filters into everything. People with the great dream of doing something incredibly brave and interesting are becoming artists — even they get sucked into it. At the end of the day, it becomes about how many albums you've sold, how many people will view your next video, and, of course, your social media. I'm so glad that I saw it for what it was and went in a different direction.
But anyway, I love those guys. They were like brothers to me, so whatever reasons they had, I know that they've looked back on it all and thought about things as well. We've spoken about it, me and them, and it's just life, you know?
KP: I definitely understand. There's a lot of conjecture about that online, so I didn't know if there was any truth to it, but it's so nice to hear your take, and I'm so happy that you guys are all on great terms.
Beyond all of that, though, I don’t think that anyone could open a music publication in the ‘90s without you being touted as a “trip-hop singer” or a “female vocalist.” Did that ever feel reductive or limiting to you? How did you move past it, especially through your solo work? I imagine the way you moved past it was through your solo career, in which you got to expand beyond that, right?
KA: Yeah, yeah. But the thing is, again, it comes down to commerce, you know? It's the way that the world works, the way advertising works, and the way that industries work. It's simpler to put things in a box and package them to sell them, so I always knew that's what those labels were for. Because I knew that, I never really felt personally limited by it — I knew that it was very much what I was doing at that point, you know? I wasn't a punk singer; I was in a true pop band, and they were selling true pop records, so that's what it was all about. Obviously, as I grew as a person, I became influenced by lots of other things, like folk music. The music had always been inspired by Jimi Hendrix and David Bowie and things like that obviously, so I had the chance then to bring that into my world. I'm like this I with my painting as well… I love so many different things.
KP: I get into that later. I'm very curious about that, too!
KA: I mean, you probably understand that yourself. I think that most creative people are the same — I think that they like many, many, many things, and if anybody ever tries to reduce anybody down to anything, it's really because they need to generalize for whatever reason. To be honest, it is interesting, because you do get people who are happy to fall into stereotypes. It works for some people — they just do what they want to do. There are some people who just love punk, and they just want to be punk rockers for the rest of their lives, and that's it! I guess it's a big old world. Van Gogh said something about that. I love him. I've always loved him, and his words go beyond art — they can be very valid for living as well. But he said, “In order to know the world, you must love many things.”
KP: I love that.
KA: It's so true, you know? One thing just leads to another, and you get to know more and more about the world altogether by loving all different kinds of things. It's all out there for you, isn't it, if you want it… I think it's up to the individual if they want to examine just one aspect of something so closely. There's also a beauty to that as well.
KP: There definitely is, I certainly agree.
But to go back to the press… I think a lot of them also sensualized you in a way as a woman that male vocalists never had to face.
I spoke with Gaye Black of The Adverts not too long ago, and her band experienced a lot of tension due to how attractive people found her — it reached a fever pitch when she was the only one featured on their now iconic album cover. But it led to a lot of turmoil within the band, and as a result, people never took her skill as a bassist quite seriously — something that, of course, men never have to face.
Did you ever feel that sort of objectification, and how did you deal with it?
KA: You know, it's interesting because I was a pretty strong personality in that way — people just didn't seem to mess with me. Interviewers and photographers and stuff, I had a laugh with most of them!
KP: That’s refreshing! That’s a good thing.
KA: Yeah, it really is. That's one thing coming from Birmingham — I’m pretty straight-talking.
KP: I'm a native New Yorker, so I get it! [Laughs].
KA: Right! So you get it. There is definitely, definitely a commonality there. You just grow up with this real streetwise sense of “do not mess with me, and I will not mess with you,” you know? I think it came through because they were so used to, I suppose, talking to a lot of art student types, so when they met me, a lot of people really wanted to delve into my past because I think they realized what an anomaly I was. It wasn't very often that you got kids coming up through the turmoil that I had to get through to actually secure a record deal.
Besides that, I must admit that I was a very sexually electrified youth. I was really into sex with everybody, you know? Men, women, everyone — that was my journey. My goal was to just have sex with as many people as I possibly could. It didn't always work the way that I wanted it to — I was sorely disappointed on many occasions.
But I actually found everything very boring. It just wasn't enough for me. I was this explosion happening in my own mind — I suppose in my own world — and I always felt like the kind of coverage that we got was a little bit drab.
KP: That’s so interesting. You wanted it even sexier! [Laughs].
KA: [Laughs]. Yeah! I saw a woman being sexy and sexualized by her own permission as a rebellion because — if you were looking back to the ‘60s and ‘70s — my mom came from a time where they were smacked across the face for just putting on a miniskirt! I think that I was always interested in pushing the pendulum to the very edge while still trying to have a bit of decorum and class. Now I see that the pendulum has really swung, but I think that it had to. For women to be truly free and equal, I think we have to go to the very extreme of exposure and take control of our own bodies.
And we also need to accept men's bodies as equally beautiful. There's always been this thing: What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice and all things nice. And what are little boys made of? Snips and snails and puppy dog tails… It's so fucked up, you know? I think in an insidious way, men and women suffer equally, but in very different ways.
So for me, no, I never ever felt exploited in any way. And also, with the photographers back then, there was only so much that they could even get away with, so I was always trying to push the boundaries myself. I mean, I went topless for the Tigermouth album cover, against everybody's better judgment! [Laughs].
KP: That's my next question! It's such a good cover.
KA: Oh, thank you! So there was me, trying to get my top off, and there's everybody else saying that they didn’t think that I should be doing this.
KP: [Laughs]. I think it’s so amazing because everyone else didn’t want to be objectified, but you were like, “Bring it on!”
KA: [Laughs]. Yes, exactly!
KP: Well speaking of Tigermouth, I just added “Inferno High Love” to my girlfriend’s playlist not too long ago. When you look back on that record now as your first solo album, what comes to mind? Do you have a favorite track off of it?
KA: Oh god, that was one of the most amazing times in my life, making that record. It really was. I lived in LA for almost two years at the Mondrian, and then I think it was Le Parc. I mean, I don't even know if Le Parc is still around — I think it all changed the last time I knew, but it's where Ozzy Osbourne lost his marbles. Back in the ‘80s, it was such a rock and roll place. It was like I had gone from being in a trip-hop band playing lots and lots of tours — but it was very unglamorous — and then I was living in LA, making a record with one of the world's greatest record producers, who is Rick Nowels, who produces Lana Del Rey now. He did all of our albums, and it was so glamorous. I always, always loved LA — it was sort of my spiritual home, you know? Like Topanga Canyon… always a gorgeous place. It was phenomenal, and it was one of the most expensive albums that One Little Indian Records probably ever made. There was no expense spared on the album — John Densmore from The Doors came and played; it was unbelievable. I learned almost everything that I needed to know about making records from Rick Nowels — he’s an absolutely genius producer and writer. I look back on those nights and days with such fondness.
As for my favorite track, it’s definitely “Kids,” which John Densmore played on. It was one of the earlier songs that we wrote together, me and Rick. It's kind of about a crazy fan — it's about everything that I was grappling to get my head around, the whole adoration from fans and stuff. It turned that on its head and thought of one lonely fan who just became fixated. I could get fixated on my heroes as well. I was fixated on Jim Morrison for about four years. I used to take acid, trying to get him to walk out of the posters…
KP: [Laughs]. Did you!?
KA: Oh, yeah! That obviously never happened, but I was trying to evoke and do all of these spells and stuff to get Jim Morrison to appear.
But anyway, yeah, I suppose I was sort of coming out of my youth when I made Tigermouth. It's still magical if I listen to it. I don’t really listen to my own records now, but if I do find myself listening to it for whatever reason, I'm immediately transported back to LA.
KP: That's amazing, and the cost was well worth it because it's a great record.
KA: Thank you so much. I hope that One Little Indian felt the same way. Maybe they'll make their money back one day!
“The entire world is male-dominated. There's no area that isn’t male-dominated in a system that's male-dominated.”
KP: I think that they definitely should.
You’ve cited this fantastic Bowie quote before: “Religion is for people who fear hell; spirituality is for people who have been there.” As someone who wouldn’t label herself as a religious person, what does spirituality mean to you, what beliefs do you hold true, and how does it influence your work, if at all?
KA: Wow, yeah… I love that quote. I really love Bowie. It just gives me goosebumps whenever I think about it. He obviously had been to his own kind of hell — I guess most of us have, you know? I think that if you really have been through what you feel like hell is, the dark night of the soul, then you understand that.
KP: Definitely.
KA: I've explored many different philosophies and religions from a very early age. I was always interested in magic, and that’s what took me down that path.
KP: Me too.
KA: Yeah, I mean, right? It's just such a cool thing. It's part of being human, I think. If you don't explore magic at some point, even trickery or illusion, then you're missing out on what it is to be in the world.
But I feel that I am now at the point where I see a common thread in all philosophies and spiritual doctrines. I'm reticent to say it, because whenever I do say it, a lot of people seem to be very shocked, and I suppose it could get somebody into trouble saying something like this…
KP: Say it!
KA: I actually think I’m at a place now where I think that we need to move past any idea of organized religion as a human race.
KP: Oh, yes. Absolutely.
KA: Oh, wow! That's great.
KP: Yeah, no. Absolutely. When we think about all of the lives we've lost in war — how many religious wars have we fought? It's ridiculous when you think that they're all fighting over the same higher power, right? Regardless of what you want to call that. I’m not necessarily religious, but I’m very spiritual myself. I was born Catholic and raised Catholic — I went to Catholic school my entire life until college, but it's not something that I ever related to on a deep level. So when I got to college, I started really getting very much into all different kinds of spiritual beliefs — every single one is so beautiful, and every single one is also so very flawed. It's hard to imagine anyone thinking that they're right, you know? I’m very much an omnist.
KA: Yeah, that's it, isn’t it? I feel like there's a lot of darkness in all of them, too, when you really pick them apart. It's strange — it's like we are these animals that separate ourselves from the rest of the animals, and we're searching for these answers, but for some reason we keep getting hoodwinked almost by choice, because obviously the answers are so complex that it's almost too much to fathom. We keep following the wrong road signs and, I think, like you said about the wars, the thing is that the people who fight them don't even believe in the doctrines that they are fighting over! That's the really horrifying thing, you know? But they've subdued millions and millions and millions of people — who also probably don't really believe it either — for power. It’s a very thin veil, you know? It's a farce. You had the Spanish Inquisition — I mean, there's no way that they believed what they were being force-fed, but of course if you're going to have thumbtacks pushed in you and your arms and legs pulled off, then you're pretty much going to say that you believe anything, you know? It seems to be the tried-and-trusted method for religion to be hoisted upon us all, but, interestingly, for the first time in human history, because of our access to technology, we are now able to see that these stories are human stories. The best part about religion appeals to the best part of people — the general kindness, love, and tolerance that most of the big religions have.
But the question of religion is obviously very separate from spirituality. Spirituality is interesting; I no longer hold any beliefs whatsoever. I went to India — I was absolutely intrigued by the guru mentality that exists on quite a large scale there. I thought about how simple we are, you know? How easily led we can be into following. I realized that there are a lot of people saying to “speak your truth,” but I don't believe that your truth has always been your belief, you know? The belief can change, as people's beliefs often do, but truth cannot change. Truth is just the truth, and I think it's out there.
Ultimately, we're only at a toddler stage of our understanding of the universe, so I have no beliefs now, and I don't even know about a soul or about energy. I simply feel that there's this beautiful, dark mystery that's just out there, you know? I obviously don't know what it is, and I don't believe that anybody else does either. If anybody else says that they do, you better run as fast as you can. That's what’s wrong — we know absolutely nothing. So that's where I'm at with it, which I'm really happy about, I must say. I'm really happy that I actually know nothing after my many, many years of thinking about it and researching. I think that this is the greatest quest for human beings to discover and explore. There's something eternal in all of us, but I don't know whether that's just human trickery to keep us interested in life. I really have no idea, but I guess we're all going to find out at some point, so yeah.
KP: One day, hopefully later rather than sooner, right? [Laughs].
KA: I don't know! Because I mean, yeah, in a way, but you know… One thing I really believed that helped me even just as a philosophy was in India, one of the teachers of yoga as an example held a pot out in front of him, and he said, “Do you know how old this pot is?” And people were saying “100 years,” “120 years,” and so on. Then he sort of held the pot up, and just said, “It's billions and billions and billions of years old. You're looking at the vase, and that's its shape, but if I smash it now, it goes back to the billions and billions of years of rock and clay that it was.” I thought that was super cool, you know? That actually is a fact. whichever way you want to look at it.
No matter what you believe, it's all in the blink of an eye. I don't worry too much anymore about how long we have, because I also see old age and what that means, and I just think it’s not necessarily about quantity, you know? It’s quality for me.
KP: Absolutely. I agree with that, too.
And on the topic of aging, you’ve often explored themes of transformation and duality within your work. Do you view your personal life as having chapters or incarnations? What did you find to be the most difficult inner transformation that you’ve had to undergo as an artist or as a human being?
KA: Oh, definitely alcoholism. Definitely, definitely. It was a constant struggle, you know? It's almost foretold that if you've got an alcoholic parent or two — which luckily I just had one — then you're probably going to have some kind of struggle ahead. Most of my life I struggled with that, but luckily I've always had people who really, really loved me and saw through any kind of demonic transformations that happened. The more I drank, the more they stuck with me. I’ve been sober for 10 years now.
KP: Wow, 10 years! Congratulations, that’s major!
KA: Thank you! I almost can't believe it myself. That was definitely the toughest thing in my life, you know? It was interesting because through becoming an alcoholic, I actually learned to understand my dad, which I never had before. I think I needed to go through that whole thing to do so. Luckily, I was never the kind of alcoholic who had to drink every single day and who suffered massive health problems because of their addiction — well, hopefully I haven’t, touch wood. I'd have months where I didn't drink at all because I was always actively fighting against it, but I would be really awful. I have a real, real dark side that alcohol is like a poison to — it's almost like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation. It would emerge and terrify me when I was back to my real self, but for some reason, you still struggle with it. It’s dangerous and it's horrible, so you wonder why on earth someone would ever do that to themselves, but there's just this thing to it that constantly drags you back in. That was the biggest struggle of my life, definitely.
But then as an artist, I’ve been lucky because the art helped me heal, you know? There are all sorts of great minds — reading Anaïs Nin’s journals and psychoanalysis like Carl Jung — I’ve always turned to all of these great, great thinkers in hard times. Other people such as William S. Burroughs and Bukowski, too — people who either understood addiction, that darkness, or people who simply understood psychology. That's always fascinated me. Art has definitely saved me.
My music always saved me, too, because I could never make it drunk, you know? It's just never ever worked for me. I always had to be relatively sober to write and record, so that commitment was the only thing that really distracted me from it. I suppose also the compulsion with which one goes towards their addictions is usually the same compulsion with which an artist approaches their art, so if you have an artist who's been an addict and now just completely focuses on their art, it can be helpful. At least you’re no longer sabotaging yourself — you simply put everything that you've got into whatever you're creating now.
KP: That’s a great way of looking at it. Art definitely does save.
You’ve had a very long and storied career, and that tends to shape someone personally in many ways. How do you feel your sense of self has evolved since you first entered the public eye in your twenties?
KA: I think that I was briefly in the public eye with Sneaker Pimps, but then I was kind of out of it. People have to remember that the Internet didn't exist back then — it was just beginning, you know? So I kind of quickly fell into obscurity, but there's something nice about that, you know?
KP: I would still say that you are well regarded as someone highly profound, but I do know what you mean. When I got started in the fashion industry, I was 14. I received my first press in 2008, which is right on the cusp of the digital era, where all of the magazines were shifting to online-only formats. But what's so fascinating about that time for me is that all of those print articles you got, they just disappear, right? Today when you do press, it kind of lives on forever, but back then it was so ephemeral. So with all of my earliest press, it’s just like it never happened. It’s a relief in a way, right?
KA: It's all gone... Yeah, yeah, that’s so true. I know that I would have found many more supporters if social media existed then — things would have been very different. As I said, I dropped out of the lightning into a very obscure place. I was lucky; I signed on the dole almost immediately, and the guy who was working was super cool. He was this young kid — he saw me and he just could not believe that I was signing on for benefits. He was like, “What was your last position?” And I said, “Oh, I was a singer.” He said, “Oh, yeah? For which band?” And I was like, “Oh, Sneaker Pimps!” And he just looked at me and was like, “You are not her! Oh my god!” And he was like, “You know what? You don't even have to come here; I'm just going to sign your book, and you don't even have to come to all these stupid appointments.” He was super cool. That kid was just a delight — he was kind of like an angel, you know? It meant that I didn't have to go to those stupid meetings. So that was tough and scary — it was a bit like, Boy, I'm kind of back where I started all over again.
I think that sometimes people make the mistake of believing is that just because you've been an artist or in magazines and stuff like that, then you somehow had a richer experience than everybody else, or a more meaningful evolution, or something. Having been just touched briefly by that kind of world and knowing people who are famous, it’s not a special joy — this is the beauty of what makes us human. So I think that having a dream come true at a really young age showed me that it didn't really mean that much, you know? It wasn't what I thought it was going to be.
I think what it taught me as well is that everything that I've experienced — thinking that I wanted to be famous when I was a kid — was this hankering, this insecurity, because I didn't understand things. I was just a kid. But now what I realize is that the most important thing is that you're loved by the people that you love, the people around you. Everyone can be a rock star without the trappings and the rubbish that comes with being a commercial success — if you treat the people around you with love, then the love that you experience will make you feel like a rock star.
I feel like I'm really, really lucky to have made it out of that sort of illusory world and into a place where I feel that I'm truly loved. My dreams are realized, and all of those things are lovely — they sort of guide you to a place that you need to be. But now that I'm getting older, I don’t think that I need so many dreams now. I just enjoy seeing what's going to happen every day, you know? And that can be a cat that's gorgeous that sits on my lap for a couple of hours in the day — that makes me really happy. That's the same happiness as when I learned that I was going to be on Top of the Pops or something, you know? It's all happiness.
KP: Yeah, it’s very interesting. I spoke to Ezra Furman recently, who's also an incredible artist, and we were speaking about how the craving for fame usually comes from a place of rejection, insecurity, and emptiness. Growing up gay, I definitely felt very misunderstood, and I certainly self-soothed with press and attention. I substituted the love that I didn’t have in real life with love from abject strangers all over the world. It’s incredibly unhealthy.
It’s funny — I got really sick at the age of 21 with Lyme disease, and I was bedridden for nearly a decade because of it. What those 10 years taught me was that none of that matters. None of it. It was the ultimate ego death that I definitely needed. Now I don’t want press at all, unless it’s to promote a positive, worthwhile cause — and that definitely doesn’t include just getting myself seen. [Laughs].
The love of fame comes from a place of lack. When you get there, you think that it’s going to be this great thing, but the parties are the most boring things that you could ever go to, right?
KA: [Laughs]. They really are!
KP: They are! I always say that I had much more fun shooting pool at dive bars on the Lower East Side than I had at any “exclusive” fashion party. They can keep them!
KA: I bet you did! The death of the ego is an essential part of living. I can imagine how that would have been really, really hard to deal with in your twenties, but it's great that you're only 31 now, wow!
KP: Yeah, I hope so! I'm really trying to make up for lost time. I missed 10 years that I'm trying to get back, but in more meaningful, productive ways. One day at a time, right?
KA: Absolutely.
KP: You’ve supported Garbage on tour, which must have been incredible. Shirley is the best. Who are some other women that you look up to, either personally, musically, or culturally?
KA: Oh, well, Lana Del Rey is just incredible. I adore her. I think she's done more for music herself than most people have done in the last 20 or so years.
KP: It's funny; I was just talking about her with my girlfriend a few weeks ago, and I said, “What's your favorite Lana song?” And then I said, “No, no, wait! Your top 3!” And then I'm thinking more, and I said, “No, we have to make it a top 5… No, sorry! Top 10!” I couldn’t stop! She is so prolific.
KA: I mean, she really is just incredible. Thank god for her because I'm always listening to music. I always listen to new bands and stuff, but there was a real lack of heroines in the music world. She’s truly a one-of-a-kind artist. I love her; I adore her.
I love so many female artists, obviously. I grew up listening to Joan Baez — my mom used to play vinyl records, so I actually wanted to be a folk singer like Joan at one time, and doing Rocking Horse was sort of a nod to that whole era. I adore Kim Gordon, of course! And Madonna was a massive icon growing up. She changed things in a huge way for pop music and music in general. Nina Simone, of course. There's a brilliant Japanese artist called Coppé, who I met years ago while I was on tour — she's an underground electronic artist, but she really introduced me to a whole world of music that I didn't really know existed, so that was quite important. And then, obviously bands like X-Ray Spex, all the female punks… L7, they were really influential! I loved Courtney Love at the time, too.
KP: Poly Styrene, L7, and Courtney — impeccable taste!
I want to go back and put you in the hot seat for a second… Do you have a favorite Lana song?
KA: I've been listening to “A&W” a lot recently, which is genius. To me, it's a masterpiece — a modern masterpiece. So “A&W” has to be way up there, but there's also obviously “Born To Die” and all of those other tracks. I don’t think that I could ever choose among them!
KP: I don’t think that it’s possible, either! I went with Ultraviolence as my favorite record, and my reason for that was simply because I love the guitar on that album so much. I think that they killed it on “Pretty When You Cry” — it’s one of my favorite guitar pieces ever. I learned to play it, and I riffed on it all the time. It’s so sexy!
But perhaps you really do have to say Born to Die in terms of an album. I saw her on her first US tour that she took as Lana Del Rey at Irving Plaza when I was 18. It was such a tiny little crowd because she had just come out with the album. It’s one of the nights that I wish I could go back to.
KA: That is the coolest. She's so special; I just love her. She's a true artist. I don't know; it's like Elvis Presley, isn't it? You get those artists every now and then… It doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, you just know it.
KP: I definitely agree.
So very quickly I wanted to just go back and touch on your fine artwork, which seems to channel a lot of the same dreamlike, mythic qualities as your music. When did visual art first become part of your creative identity, and what does it mean to you?
KA: Well, I think it always has been, as it always has been in most of us actually, because we grew up in such a visual world. I loved painting and drawing when I was a kid — it was always an escape. In fact, before I even joined Sneaker Pimps, I was going to be doing the foundation at an art college in Bournville.
KP: Oh, wow!
KA: Yeah, that place doesn't exist anymore, but it used to be a great, beautiful, old-fashioned art college. I kind of got in by the skin of my teeth, really — I was taking an opening for underprivileged kids and everything. I completed this course in photography that then enabled me to take the foundation course, but the music took off, so I never followed through with that. I just followed the music because I loved music equally as much, and that was definitely more exciting to me at that point — going around the world, being on stage, and doing that whole rock and roll dream. So that love for the visual arts was always there, and then, of course, as a musical artist, you have to create a lot of record covers and videos, so it's always been active! I always knew that my musical career was going to be over after Ghostdriver, but then when COVID struck, I figured that I had some time, so I was just going to start painting!
KP: You're an incredible painter! I mean, truly — your work is amazing.
“Everyone can be a rock star without the trappings and the rubbish that comes with being a commercial success — if you treat the people around you with love, then the love that you experience will make you feel like a rock star.”
KA: That is so kind of you; thank you so much! I mean, I'm learning, you know? I'll be honest with you, I started when I did because I figured that it was going to take me about 10 years to get a grip on it, so if I started then when I was around 45, maybe by the time I’m 60 I’m not going to have to grapple with all of this learning.
I'm not sure if you know, but I made a film when I started making Ghostdriver some time ago, so around the time of COVID, I figured that I’d divide my time between painting and finishing the film. I'm still working on finishing the film, but most of my time now has just been spent painting. It ended up now where I'm mostly just painting, and I'm sort of halfway into what I see as my studies — I think I've got about another 5 years before I can truly grasp it. This is all very much a learning phase, you know?
KP: I would not have guessed that, because I just think that they're all phenomenal.
KA: I can’t thank you enough for saying that.
KP: It’s the truth!
For our final questions, what is one thing that you would tell your younger self?
KA: I don't know if my younger self would have listened to anything that I have to say, to be honest. I was such a twit back then! [Laughs]. Maybe to be nicer to people.
KP: I think that’s really great advice for everybody.
KA: I suppose I should say to be better to people, not just “nicer.” Just be better, because you can be nice and still be an asshole, you know.
KP: That's very, very true.
What is one piece of advice that you would lend to women about life, work, or love?
KA: There’s a very good Native American saying, and it’s along the lines of, “Never judge a man until you've walked a moon in his shoes.” We're each on this very unique journey and path, and I think part of what separates people is a sense of judgment. You might have done some difficult things in life, or you may not have, but that's your path, your journey, and I'd always say to refrain from judging your brother or your sister. If you can’t be there with love, then maybe try to hold back, because you really never know what someone else has been through, you know?
KP: I think that's really great advice.
And lastly, what do you feel makes a provocative woman?
KA: So many things, right? I'd say, for me, I guess what makes somebody provocative is… I'll go for the sexy way, I think.
KP: Nobody ever goes that way! I really think that you’re the first! [Laughs].
KA: Oh, no! [Laughs]. Really?
KP: Yes!
KA: I'm such a rebel, even when I don’t even know it! [Laughs]. Now I've really set myself up.
KP: You could change your answer!
KA: No, no! Don't worry, I'm not going to back out from this challenge. I've got to find out for myself — you know, I'm 50 years old; I should know the answer to this bloody question by now. Well, there's a huge open void, and I think that I've just discovered something quite interesting, but it doesn't really answer your question.
KP: Go for it!
KA: It's that I think I'm in love with the world, you know? That sounds so cliché, but when I was flicking through my head about all of the people that I've found truly provocative, irresistible, or anything like that, they're all completely different. It's like flicking through a Rolodex of all of these incredible people and hearts and souls… So yeah, I guess that's a mystery. It's a mystery to me. I don't know.
KP: Maybe what’s provocative is anything then.
KA: Okay, well, I wouldn’t say it’s anything — I’ve got my standards, you know! [Laughs]. I’ve certainly turned a few dogs away!
KP: [Laughs]. That’s so funny. Okay, very true. Well maybe it’s an essence then — something elusive that you can’t quite put your finger on.
KA: Yeah! I just don't know if that’s a sufficient answer to the question.
KP: It’s funny — about a year ago my best friend brought up the fact that none of the people that I’ve dated are especially alike, and they’re not! I suppose there’s a common thread somewhere, but I honestly don’t even know if they’d like each other as people! [Laughs]. Maybe I’m the only common thread. So perhaps I’m the same way, too.
KA: I suppose that's a thing, though, isn't it, if you're more open to seeing the beauty in many things? So I guess what's provocative to me now is different than what was provocative to me when I was 20, you know? I can’t even try to simplify it further. I think that it's one of the greatest questions.
KP: And our most unique answer yet — from you! I wouldn’t want this to end on any other note.
