The greatest feminist anthem, according to Skin of Skunk Anansie
As the principal songwriter of the rock band Skunk Anansie, frontwoman Skin succeeded in injecting the burgeoning grunge scene with a dose of effortlessly cool. Her strong vocals and confident demeanour enabled her to become one of the most powerful figures in music history. As she once said: “A lot of the discussions now are standing on our shoulders. Because we started that shit.”
But Skin, whose real name is Deborah Ann Dyer, knows much more about the challenges of diversity in the music scene than that. In her view, the industry’s forthcomings can be traced back to its dichotomous thinking, which ought to be debunked. “The world is not black and white,” she explained, adding: “I have some views that I think are quite conservative. But I would say mainly my views are leftwing.”
On the subject of feminism, Dyer maintains that women should be allowed to do whatever they want to do, whenever they want to do it. In fact, Dyer has noticed a change in feminism towards a more liberal standpoint, where women can actually celebrate their sexuality and not get ridiculed for owning their confidence.
As she explained in an interview with Loverboy: “The current generation are defining what feminism means to them. I just think that women are in control of their sexuality as much as they want to be.” Although 1990s feminism may have been venturing towards these freer outlets of expression, Dyer claims we are now at a point in society where we can not only celebrate such images but call out those who remain in close contact with dated, bigoted views.
Perhaps this is why the musician appreciates one of Marianne Faithfull’s biggest tunes, ‘The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan’. According to Dyer, this song is particularly interesting as it’s written about “a woman who reaches the age of 37 and realises that she can do whatever she wants to do.” Unlike many other songs, “It’s not a preachy song that tells you how you should think, it’s just a coming-of-age song that tells you how the narrator thinks.”
Describing the appeal of Faithfull to Kerrang, she added: “It’s good to hear this from Marianne Faithfull, because when people first knew her she was perceived as a groupie, but then she became an artist in her own right. I think she’s really talented.”
The song was originally written by Shel Silverstein as a way of exploring female-specific disillusionment, making it the perfect soundtrack to the mix of realist and fantastical existence women often feel subjected to, whose minds and physical beings are constantly battling for truths about existential liberation. Some might call its use in Thelma & Louise as one of the most appropriate music cues in cinematic history.
Dyer’s gravitation to such a song feels completely natural considering her own impact as a challenger of musical boundaries and societal norms. Feminism might have progressed since the song’s original release in the 1970s, and even since the peak of Skunk Anansie’s fame, but without such fearless contributions to the industry, it would be impossible to predict where we would be now.
