INTERVIEW: Miki Berenyi on "bothsidesism," parenting, trauma, suicide, success, fame and her life as an alt-rock icon
The former Lush frontwoman and I spoke for two and half hours prior to the Stateside release of her riveting memoir, Fingers Crossed. (Also, I unveil my EPIC GODDAMN Lush playlist.)
There are moments during Miki Berenyi’s autobiography Fingers Crossed where her candor hits you with a jolt, as if you’ve just been doused with a splash of cold water to the face. When Berenyi visits upon some of the more hair-raising details of her childhood, for example, readers are left with little recourse but to gasp and let their jaws drop — unless, of course, you happen to find yourself equally jolted by Berenyi’s crackling sense of humor, not to mention her resilience and empathy. (Order the new U.S. printing here; signed original UK edition here.)
In one-on-one conversation, as you’ll see from my brand new interview with her, Berenyi comes across like a crude — though endearingly warm and thoughtful — truck driver who’s just gotten off work after a long week and wants to let her hair down at the local pub. As you’ll see, Berenyi is not one to button her lip and tiptoe around what she wants to say. In fact, the very first thing we hear from her in the clip above is a bellow of “FU-CKING HELL!” which of course gets our interview off on the right foot, where it stayed for the next two and a half hours.
On the page however, the elegance of Berenyi’s prose belies her accessibility and willingness to carpet-bomb a conversation with “fuck”s. And, as I say in the video, I most want to stress that this is an exquisitely written book. I hope that the depth of composition, the finely threaded embroidery of words and images, and the emergence of Berenyi’s voice as a writer aren’t overshadowed by how chatty, unpretentious demeanor.
Best known as the one-time frontwoman of the iconic alt-era band Lush, Berenyi is currently promoting the Stateside publication of the book, which of course devotes a good chunk to the part of her life where she was most visible to the public. Berenyi (pronounced “b’REN-ee”), who was born and raised in London, came of age in the midst of a then-burgeoning music scene (later christened “shoegaze”) that included bands like My Bloody Valentine, Ride, Slowdive, Pale Saints, etc. And, through a series of events chronicled in the book and elsewhere (like the official 4AD Records site), Berenyi fell in with Emma Anderson.
Together, with Anderson’s strong-willed sense prodding them along, Berenyi and Anderson would form Lush’s creative nucleus, their intertwining guitar lines and vocal harmonies coming together to create what is, in my view, some of the most hauntingly sublime music of the period. To this day, the pair’s ghostly vocals on tunes like “Nothing Natural,” “Monochrome,” and a slew of others hit me with such profound force that it practically knocks me over.
Eventually, Lush would find themselves right in the thick of the alternative zeitgeist, landing the opening slot on the 1992 edition of Lollapalooza — putting them in the unenviable position of going on before Pearl Jam, whose fame was cresting right at that moment. Looking back on Lush’s live show, it was a lot more hard-driving than the impression you get from their studio recordings, and they weren’t actually out-of-place on a bill that also included heavy acts like Soundgarden and Ministry.
I love how you can hear Pearl Jam in the background during this interview filmed at Lolla:
From a retrospective review I wrote in 2016:
If you're hearing Lush for the first time via this five-record retrospective box, bear in mind: the feathery jangle of leadoff track "Sweetness and Light" is going to sound somewhat anemic measured against the sensory-bathing production favored by Lush's modern-day successors like Beach House, Painted Zeros, and Dum Dum Girls. Conversely, back in 1989-90, when Lush's debut EP Scar first made a splash, it was tempting to dismiss the English quartet's music as a Cocteau Twins knockoff—but only if you focused on skin-deep similarities rather than the character underneath the sound.
Lush's music was naturally defined by its seemingly endless ripples of delay, reverb, flange, and chorus. But the almost-supernatural power of frontwoman/guitarist Miki Berenyi and lead guitarist/vocalist Emma Anderson's vocal harmonies and intertwining guitar work set Lush apart from the shoegaze pack on a number of levels. As the band's sole songwriters, Anderson and Berenyi each took unorthodox approaches to melody, chord structure, pacing, lyrics, and even guitar strumming. With Lush, they wove their idiosyncrasies together into a sound whose rough edge belies its delicate outer lacing.
The pair was especially fond of inserting odd notes into chords that draped even their most [frail-sounding] songs in a haze of dissonance. And if you refer to bootleg recordings from the band's heyday, it's evident that Lush packed a punch in concert that none of these records quite capture. Most unfortunately, you can listen to [their whole recorded catalog] and never get a sense of the assertive, even forceful playing of late drummer Chris Acland, whose suicide in October of '96 stopped Lush's career in its tracks just as Anderson was contemplating quitting and collective morale had begun wane.
On re-watching the footage of our interview, I was struck by the casual ease with which she just sat there and vaped, waiting for me to finish my thoughts while I took upwards of five minutes to unpack my questions in spots. Whenever I watch someone talking as I do in the video — whether it’s me or someone else — my instinct is to cringe as I’m jabbed all over by an uncomfortable awareness that the person talking is going on too long and seems oblivious.
I was, I must say, quite aware of it in real time, though it was worse on playback than how it felt in the moment. That’s because I was also put at-ease by Berenyi’s patience (or at least what appeared to be patience). And the more relaxed I am during an interview, the less of an effort I make to be clipped and surgical in my choice of words. I was also experiencing some pretty acute anxiety symptoms right beforehand, the unease rolling through my forearms and causing them to shake uncomfortably right up until go time.
There are times I feel completely relaxed before interviews, and other times where I feel “in-command of my fastball” and READY to take the pitcher’s mound and start throwing fastballs, with an almost-destructive hunger to GO FOR IT. For whatever reason, this wasn’t one of those times. I’m proud to say, however, that you can’t tell when you watch the video. And after about 40 minutes or so, I remember realizing that I’d managed (as always) to keep a grip. It was smooth sailing from that point on.
I would also recommend that you check out my new Lush playlist, the latest in my EPIC GODDAMN playlist mix series.
<3 SRK