When I first moved to the UK, I became hooked on The Smiths, despite the lead singer's history of racist remarks. It felt odd, being a Black artist inspired by someone like that, but I had to make the music mine regardless. "Big Mouth Strikes Again" made me feel emboldened despite its sad subject matter, which mattered because I'd arrived feeling like I knew nothing. I had to learn public transport for the first time, having grown up sheltered and strict, and felt I had no right to take my place in the human race. But in that fear I found unexpected strength, leaning into a kind of Joan of Arc spirit, because no one was around to help me. I had to learn how to make friends, survive corporate life, scared constantly, like I'd bitten more than I could chew. But I had blind faith in myself to follow my own madness anyway.

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