SELF ESTEEM: “I FEEL EVERYTHING SO FUCKING HARD, ALL THE TIME.”
VOCAL GIRLS chats to rising pop sensation Rebecca Lucy Taylor about her powerhouse second album, being unashamedly emotional, and why Sheffield will always be “the coolest place in the world”.
Rebecca Lucy Taylor - aka Self Esteem and 2021’s BBC Introducing Artist of the Year - describes her sound in her Instagram bio as ‘wishy washy women’s worries set to music’. Although the tongue-in-cheek tagline may not be your typical self-promo strategy, it’s clear there is a huge appetite for the often witty, sometimes gut-wrenching ‘women’s worries’ explored in her work. Following the understated success of her 2019 solo debut, Rebecca’s latest album, Prioritise Pleasure, has bothered the charts and received a slew of five star reviews. Many have predicted its assured place on the highly-anticipated Album of the Year lists, with BBC Radio 6 Music having already ranked it within their top 10. Wishy-washy? Hardly.
“I’ve been on my computer today since 9am doing meetings or interviews; it’s like actually having a job!”, Rebecca laughs over Zoom as she explains the whirlwind year she’s had so far. Her anthemic track ‘I Do This All The Time’ came out in April to widespread critical acclaim, and from there the stage was set; with each subsequent single, we were drawn a little more into the mind (and notes app) of RLT. By the time of its release last month, industry anticipation for the second Self Esteem record, ‘Prioritise Pleasure’, had reached fever pitch. And my goodness, weren’t we rewarded for our (im)patience. A heady mix of surging pop choruses, driving drumbeats, and strikingly candid lyricism, the album is simultaneously an exploration, reclamation, and celebration of her womanhood.
“With ‘Prioritise Pleasure’, I think I’ve just gone a little further down the road”, Rebecca muses, referring to the path trod by her 2019 debut, ‘Compliments Please’. “I’ve realised I don’t need anything but myself, and I don’t need to people please. I used to think I wasn't a real musician because I wasn’t agonising over trying to shroud [lyrics] in metaphor or have a million and one chords in there, whereas now, I accept how emotional I am”. Rebecca says this emotional trait is something typical of her star sign, Libra: “I feel everything so fucking hard, all the time. And I guess that’s the thing that will always be interesting to me – why, and what am I feeling? Being able to explore it without any shame now is what Self Esteem is, I guess”.
Both here and throughout our chat, ‘now’ is often the operative word, hinting at how Rebecca’s music and mindset (and yes, self-esteem) have evolved over her career. Having been one half of the indie-folk duo Slow Club since the age of 18, she embarked on a solo career in 2017 to pursue a decidedly poppier direction, making music which, from the sounds of it, was as cathartic to create as it is to listen to: “With ‘Compliments Please’, I was still very angry and hurt about how bad I’d been made to feel about who I am for my whole life”. Rebecca laughs after she says this – that sort of exhale-through-your-nose laugh – and I get the impression that this might be to try and ease the sting of her previous statement. “But there isn’t some happy ever after that exists, I don’t think. I think your happy ever after is every day. So how do you make that day good?”. For her, the answer to this question boils down to the two words titling her latest work: Prioritise Pleasure. “Personally, that means going home when I want to. And saying no to somebody’s BBQ that I don’t think I’ll have a good time at. A big part of my life has been, in one way or another, putting everyone else’s needs before mine, so doing those things is prioritising my pleasure”. She grins, well aware of the phrase’s possible connotations: “it’s not as sexy as it maybe suggests”.
For those already acquainted with Self Esteem, her BBQ reference is no doubt familiar; some of the most memorable parts of the new album are the spoken-word verses of ‘I Do This All The Time’, during which Rebecca deadpans ‘This sun is making me feel like I’m missing out on something / But if I went to your BBQ, I’d feel uncomfortable and not be sure what to say anyway’. The track has drawn frequent comparisons to Baz Luhrmann’s 1997 advice-dispensing hit, ‘Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)’, with some touting it ‘the female version’, and I wonder if she ever finds it frustrating for her work to be categorised like this? “I had this idea to do ‘Sunscreen’, but today and from my point of view, ‘cos I think it’s amazing”, says Rebecca, “So yeah, I don’t mind the comparisons because that’s literally what I set out to do. I feel disappointed when it’s consistently like ‘oh, it’s Fleabag’. And Fleabag was fucking great, but the only thing that annoys me is when I have to be boxed off like that – it’s like shorthand”. She pauses, shrugging: “But, if people need to hear that ‘it’s a Fleabag-written ‘Sunscreen’ for 2021’ and that makes them listen and be intrigued, then go for it hun, I’m fine with that”.
If it’s the reviews that catch her audience’s interest and the record that keeps it, then it’s the Self Esteem live shows which reel them in – hook, line, and sinker. Inspired by Madonna’s ‘Blonde Ambition’ tour and the more subtle influence of Peter Gabriel’s ‘Secret World’ shows, Rebecca and her on-stage team are very quickly becoming renowned for their highly choreographed, all-encompassing performances. Standing still and strumming on a guitar it is not. “Oh yeah, I did too many years pretending that I don’t want [people] to look at me – it was such a motive, especially in British music, to do the whole ‘I’m a nobody’ thing”, she says, pretending to flick her hair. “So, I’ve cultivated a show because I enjoy myself more, I want to go to bed knackered, I want adrenaline… I want to be a popstar, so I want to put on a popstar’s show. Whether I’m playing at the smallest venue in Birmingham or headlining a stage at Wide Awake, I want to put on the same show in both places”.
As Rebecca talks about her shows, her face animated with enthusiasm, it becomes apparent just how highly she regards all the people who make Self Esteem what it is. “It’s like a family”, she affirms. “Saying ‘I want to do like a half-time Superbowl show at the Bristol Fleece’ with fucking no money – it was really hard to get out the gate like that, and find people that understood that”. Having found them though, little else – not even finances – can stop Rebecca realising her Blonde Ambition visions in all their glory: “Those dance moves aren’t just dance moves; they’re fucking battle cries. We’re all there, exorcising demons every night, and I think that’s what makes the show really interesting. Maybe it sounds pretentious…”, she laughs, “but it’s just an all-consuming event every night, and that is art to me”.
Having witnessed her set at Wide Awake, I’m inclined to agree. Yet still, in some circles, there remains a degree of cynicism or snobbery towards pop music, as if anything with a catchy chorus or choreography can’t possibly be truly, actually good. Rebecca nods: “I started making music in the age of The Libertines, and then the earnestness of folk, and my band was part of it – that idea that we were ‘real’ and ‘underrated’ [two of the scene’s most valued qualities]. But the sonics of pop… I remember [Beyonce’s] ‘Single Ladies’ coming out and just thinking ‘this sounds bonkers!’. It’s more ground-breaking, it’s saying more, in my opinion. But –”, she laughs exasperatedly, “it doesn’t get called ‘real’ music or whatever, and I think that’s just another way to keep women down – because it is predominantly women-led”. She breaks into a grin:“I love watching Billie Eilish just be like, the fucking tits, and also you can’t deny that she’s a musician. There’s this supremacy now in female-led pop music”.
In person (well, over Zoom), Rebecca is warm and quick to laugh – it’s easy to see why fans also gravitate towards her online presence, which works hard to portray her as relatable and down to earth. “With Instagram and Twitter, they’re an extension of my art practice – they are part of what I do, and I enjoy it”, she explains. “When I so badly want to be understood, it helps me be understood, and I’ve had 95% positive internet interactions”. However, as is human nature, it is often the less pleasant interactions which leave a stronger impression:“When there are 25 messages telling me that people love me and saying ‘thank you for the music’, and then 5 are horrible bastards saying horrible things, I’m obviously listening to the 5, aren’t I?”, Rebecca sighs, “So, it is changing – I’m on it less, and I’m looking at what people are saying less, which is sad”. Ever eager to find a silver lining, though, she also acknowledges that “part of me is thinking ‘thank you so much for this free masterclass in proving my point!’. When they’re going at each other in the comments, as long as I don’t let it get too deep, it’s quite interesting to see it unfold as a reaction to my work. Good art makes people talk, you know?”.
A quick scan through Rebecca’s Instagram perfectly illustrates this point; under one post, a couple of comments to the tune of ‘not ALL men’ have sparked a feminist debate which, quite hearteningly, concludes with the original commenter apologising and vowing to educate themself. The post in question was in relation to the video for the powerful, pissed-off single ‘How Can I Help You’, which, self-directed and shot in Islington’s Almeida Theatre, stemmed from Rebecca’s desire to reclaim her drumming. “I learnt the drums when I was a kid, and whilst learning I developed a women’s body, and that made me stop playing. ‘Cos the attention that it would draw was so fucking terrifying to me”, she explains. Especially vindicating, then, is her decision to play drums in the video wearing a sports bra and shorts, revelling in her physicality – both the way her body looks, and what it’s capable of.
At the same time as being personally empowering, Rebecca does acknowledge that “my boobs jiggling about in a video is going to make people click”. Equally, she points out with a wry smile, “those clicks mean I get more pennies”. Canny and industry-astute, she recognises that any reaction to her work – positive, negative, or just plain creepy – first requires the person reacting to engage with what she is saying: “If you’re the sort of person that wants to click on [the video] ‘cos it looks like tits, you then have to hear the song, which is sort of about malaise and how tired I am at the hands of the patriarchy. There’s some subliminal shit gonna happen there”, she laughs. “Ultimately, I thought that was funny”.
Expressive and highly engaging, Rebecca frequently punctuates her considered reflections on gender and art with dramatic gesticulation and a healthy dose of swearing. “I also just enjoy looking really, really hot”, she laughs, continuing her discussion of the album’s visual campaign. “It’s complicated though, because I’m sure we could unpick it – why do I enjoy doing that? Where’s that coming from? It may be some age old thing to do with what I think of as being my worth”. For a brief moment she seems thoughtful, philosophical even, “But fuck it, I can’t be arsed to go too far down that road. I just want my gay male fans to be like ‘yessssss!’”, she grins and puts her hands in the air, “that is my M.O.”.
Not content with putting out a widely celebrated album, preparing for a tour, and cultivating her status as a gay icon (Drag Race UK’s Choriza May is a fan), this year has also seen Rebecca turn her attention to scriptwriting: “I’ve done a play and I’m sort of devising a musical”, she says of her future projects, both of which will also be staged at The Almeida. “There’s such a difference between talking about it and seeing it come to fruition, but I think there’s something I could do outside of music that will help me… make my point”. First, though, that nationwide tour – which, given that all but a handful of dates are sold out, is essentially a Self Esteem lap of honour. A particular highlight, Rebecca explains, is playing her hometown Sheffield’s beloved Leadmill. “To have sold it out months and months in advance, knowing that it’s gonna be a fucking night – it’s a little dream come true. That’s where I would sneak in underage to go to indie nights when I was a kid, so it’s pretty profound to be playing there now”.
As a homage to these roots, VOCAL GIRLS headed up to Sheffield to shoot some pics of Rebecca in the iconic city on the day of her Leadmill show to publish alongside this interview. Sadly, a crammed tour schedule and vocal ill-health didn't mix, and our shoot was cancelled last minute to allow her some much-needed rest. Regardless, the Steel City has a long history of producing artists who are immensely proud of their roots, and Rebecca Lucy Taylor is no exception. At the end of our interview, she sits up to centre her torso in the webcam frame and points to the jumper that she (entirely coincidentally) has on that very day – a long sleeved navy number with ‘Sheffield: My Kind of City’ emblazoned on the front in bright orange lettering. “It will always be home”, she says simply. “I love it, there’s so much going on, and it’s void of bravado in a weird way. It’s the coolest place in the world to me”.
Image Credits: Olivia Richardson
