IN CONVERSATION WITH FI MCCLUSKEY
Interview by Samo Šajn
Fi McCluskey is a singer, songwriter, and self-described “sonic activist.” Raised in Dagenham by Irish immigrant parents, her music blends powerful lyrics and emotional depth. From feminist history to mental health, she isn’t afraid to tackle big topics, all while making music that feels fresh and exciting. With collaborators like Johan Hugo and Josh Quinton, and a strong voice against AI in the arts, her work stands out. Her new single Scream takes us even deeper into her unique and powerful world.
The Scream video has such a cool, surreal style. How did you and Josh Quinton come up with the concept?
Firstly, thank you, I’m very excited to share Scream and the video with the world.
I have always been a massive fan of Josh’s work, his approach is fantastical and knows no limits. His inimitable style roams openly and freely into the surreal; I adore this, as even in my day to day, my imagination takes me on mini mystical adventures.
Josh and I also move in the same circles, so the rapport was already there, in fact we also worked together on a previous project, ‘Christmas Bitch’ with Sharon Le Grand (Sharon and I are still hopeful for that Christmas no 1 by the way...).
I love the transportive power that music possesses, meaning that this was a match made in heaven. My music also plays on the more surrealist, leftfield side of the fence.
We discussed the song’s themes and what feelings the track evokes. A dark palleted, fever-dreamscape, alongside the character confronting her differing identities were all at the forefront of our conversations.
Both of us were up for a challenge and wanted to push boundaries, which in turn got the creative juices flowing. Credit where credit is due, Josh went away to return with the most magnificent story-board. His dystopian, film-noir world was the perfect fit. I was instantly ready to throw myself in feet first - much like Mary Poppins jumping into a painting.
In Josh’s own words, “I wanted to create a moody film-noir cityscape that creates a fabricated context where this character is constantly being confronted with different versions of herself. It reflects on the way we are often trapped in cycles and can find ourselves competing with different versions of ourselves and our public image in the modern day of internet persona.’
You call your music ‘sonic activism.’ What does that mean to you in everyday terms?
There is an undeniable history and link between music and politics. When we think of any social revolution you can be sure it has a soundtrack. Musical artists and bands inspire the masses. Music is a vehicle, an anchor and the catalyst that brings people together.
A fine example of this in history is Punk. How the fashion associated with the movement came to symbolise a revolution and became symbolic with that music and their politics. When worn on a wider scale that style would instantly show that you are part of a movement, an ideology.
Music unlike any other medium resonates on a primal level. One could even observe why football fans sing at matches. Collective effervescence, the feeling of unity and togetherness is ritualistic and powerful as it transcends. Transcending is everything.
The video looks like it was made by AI, but it wasn’t. Why did you want to play with that idea?
This really depends on your outlook. Or, one could say, AI looks like the video?
AI-generated music or AI-generated art, in any capacity, is a travesty in my opinion. Live animation has been around for centuries. To quote Josh,
“The video is created all by hand with live action and paper collage animation. We wanted to celebrate handcrafted methods of creation, within an era of AI generated art. This harkens back to more tradition and old school film making which we believe is important to honour.” - Josh Quinton
Your songs talk about serious issues. How do you make sure the message stays strong without losing the music’s emotion or energy?
When it comes to music the devil is in the details. A heavy bass and kick drum will alter the mood, compared to say a soft guitar and percussion for example. Minor chords tend to have a more sombre emotional feeling; E minor is one of my favorite chords to use, for that very reason.
An interesting experiment is to take extra notice of a movie score next time you’re watching. Music sets the tone for a scene. The overall mood changes if you change the music in a particular scene, all of a sudden the scene alone takes on a completely different narrative. This is particularly fun to do with horror movies.
Equally, touches on the production side, details such as stereo panning, play a huge role in the overall mood of the track. One can be abstract in the lyrics and allow the melody and instrumentation to speak for itself.
Plus, I’m Celtic, I’m pretty sure we sing before we can speak. I guess I have my ancestors to thank for that one.
You’ve worked with some amazing people, including Johan Hugo, Josh Quinton, Honey Dijon. How do you choose who to collaborate with?
When it came to Johan, he originally agreed to produce one track with me, after we hit it off at a party. We got chatting about music, I played him some of the psych strings that I had recently recorded whilst in Mumbai and his ears pricked up. I knew he was into it as he walked off with my phone in hand to listen more intently and offered to buy me a drink. I was well aware of Johan’s work, so tried to play it cool (this is not my strong point but I knew I had an opportunity here).
Once we got into the studio and got to work, we dived into the takes that I had recorded in India. The beautiful haunting sound of the Serengi and Violin would set the tone. I knew in my bones that once Johan could see what I could do, I could try and lure him in to record the rest of my EP. Happy to report that he did, which I am beyond thrilled about as the result is a body of work that both he and I are extremely proud of.
You have to hustle, hustle, and hustle some more!
Collaborating with other creatives is hands down one of my favorite things to do. To watch an idea take shape, elevate, twist and flourish is electric. To hear other creatives’ input and witness the skills that they bring to the table is nothing short of magic.
Empty Space and Die Young cover powerful topics. What made you want to write about those subjects?
I grew up in Dagenham, Essex, the daughter of Irish-immigrant parents, which gave me an interesting perspective on the world. We grew up on an extremely multi-cultural street, there was a camaraderie amongst the immigrant community and the first-generation children there.
My father, who has a beautiful voice, would sing Irish Rebel songs in the bath at the top of his lungs. The whole street would hear him; he would sing on.
Irish culture is drenched in poetry and music. This was my dose of heritage. My sister and I were never shielded from the truth about the adversities my parents faced when they first immigrated to the UK in the late 1960’s. The signs posted around London and Britain then used to read ‘No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish,’ - these truths have shaped me and kept my eyes open.
Perhaps this is one of the many reasons I found the Essex witch trials, which featured in Empty Space, particularly fascinating.
I discovered that the Essex Witch Trials predated, and caused, the Salem trials in America, and were responsible for the widespread hatred of women who didn’t fit into the mold. When you read the stories of why the women were executed, what you find is that in essence the majority were in fact the first feminists of their time.
Women who wanted to heal, women who didn’t want to marry or women who lived on the fringes of society. They were all deemed witches and hung. I felt a strong affiliation towards these women. I believe due to my upbringing, and the woman I have become because of it.
Having grown up in Essex I wanted to honor these women and their bravery.
This also made me think of the modern day fascination, and global phenomenon, of the Essex girl, is there a link there? The endless jokes and stereotypes, when Essex women are no different from any other women across the UK.
Womanhood is present in a lot of my work as we still have a very long way to go. If I can make people think, perhaps open the floor to conversation, then I feel this is a good place to start.
You’ve spoken out about AI and art. What worries you most about how tech is affecting creativity?
Machine learning, or AI, is nothing more than daylight robbery and plagiarism. Big tech companies are stealing intellectual creative property to teach their machines, and for now are getting away with it.
AI generated art is a mockery of what it means to be human in my opinion and a total disregard for the Arts. Art in my opinion is an offering from one human to another. Art supports people through the darkest of times - Why? Is it the feeling of being understood? Solace perhaps? Or the simple knowing that you are not alone.
Mediums that have soul can express vulnerability, for example, the artist has channeled this emotion into their work, this is why, as humans, we are moved by these works. Life experience, a soul - a beating heart being the key factor.
AI and its regurgitation of past works, doesn’t necessarily pose the threat of the death of an artist per se. But in a much more accumulative, nuanced and profound way, poses the threat of the death of creativity, and the need and want to create.
We are here to let big tech know we are not just going to sit back and let them get away with this. The continuous dick-swinging from the billionaires who own these huge tech organizations and what they stand to gain by teaching these machines and ripping us all off is beyond an injustice. It’s time they are held accountable by law.
You’re part of a really bold creative scene with Jonny Woo, Sharon Le Grand, etc. How has that community influenced your work?
When I first discovered the exhilarating underground, queer, creative community of East London, it was like finding Utopia. I said to myself, ‘Wow, Ok, here it is, I found it’. I felt my whole world open up.
Like-minded individuals that were not only open-minded, and, yes, fiercely bold, but yet empathetic and layered. The level of creativity that pours out of the community is mind-blowing. It would be impossible not to be inspired by it.
There’s a beautiful resilience and authenticity to the community that lives alongside a DIY punk spirit. Community being the operative word, as people lift each other up. We encourage one another and celebrate when an individual does well. Meaning that as a sensitive creative you feel empowered to say, “Fuck it!”
One feels able to be authentic and courageous in their work and in their messaging. Being able to bounce ideas around with these incredible individuals is something I will always hold dear and never take for granted.
Scream has such a unique sound. What kind of music or artists inspired it?
I am a bit of a magpie when it comes to music. I love many genres, however, Trip-Hop, Rock and Psych tend to be at the heart.
Bands such as Massive Attack, Goat, The Brian Jonestown Massacre and Primal Scream are some of my favorites. ‘Let It Burn’ by Goat is nothing short of a masterpiece.
I’m partial to a bit of Black Sabbath - you would be hard-pushed to find a better bassist than Geezer Butler. Artists such as Leonard Cohen and Annie Lennox are also a huge inspiration, both sublime wordsmiths.
When things feel heavy in the world, what helps you keep making music?
I feel extremely blessed that I was given the gift of creativity as, quite frankly, without it I would be lost. Creating music for me is extremely therapeutic and helps me try to make sense of it all.
I am a firm believer in forming transversal alliances. Alliances that cut across different sectors, professions, generations and intersect laterally.
