Pauline Black: A Two-Tone Story — That’s Not My Age (2025)

A Two-Tone Story is the film of Pauline Black’s autobiography. The title’s double meaning refers to both the multicultural music scene she was part of in the late-1970s and early-80s, and her mixed heritage. The lead singer of ska band The Selecter, is the daughter of a Nigerian man ( who she later discovers was a Yoruba prince) and an Anglo-Jewish woman; as a baby she was adopted by a white family in Romford, Essex, in the 1950s. Everyone knows Pauline Black as the lead singer of The Selecter, but what they might not know is her remarkable background story. ‘Some of my family had casual racist views…’ she explains about her upbringing, ‘ You had to build a bit of armour around yourself.’ In the documentary, she describes feeling isolated and lonely as a teenager; and with her identity being shaped by her adoptive family, says, ‘I wanted to find some black people’, and so starts to look for role models.

Moving to Coventry to study for a science degree, in the 1970s, changed her life. There she meets black people, like-minded people and her husband of nearly-45-years, Terry; becomes a radiographer in the NHS and joins a band. The film documents Pauline Black’s powerful story, from the feelings of isolation growing up, to success in The Selecter, discovering her birth family and finally accepting her identity.

I spoke to Pauline about the documentary and her remarkable story, she is an incredible woman. An absolute star. Oh, and perennially stylish, too.

AW:  I want to ask you about the sense of belonging and those feelings of being isolated and lonely that recur throughout the film. When you were a teenager in Romford, you say you were living in your own world and you turned to books, and then it happens again when you’re on tour in America, you start to feel very isolated. Later when you go into acting and you go for castings and again, feel like you’re being excluded. How have you dealt with that and tried to overcome it?

PB: I suppose I’ve dealt with that by, one, growing a very thick skin! And, two, by just putting myself out there, I guess. I am quite a gregarious person given the chance. But I’m not necessarily gregarious in some situations, where maybe you’re being made to feel at a disadvantage for whatever reason. I mean, the problem with racism is it’s very, very hard to pin down. You can’t turn around and say, well, I didn’t get that job because I’m black. The ‘is it because I’m black?’ question that comes up all the time.

So you’re always slightly on the back foot, unless you’re with other people who look like you, to a certain extent. And that can make life difficult, but I learned from an early age that it was going to be like this, so I learned how to navigate my way through. If you’re constantly being reminded of your colour, which you were growing up in in the fifties, you’re going to become very, very conscious of that and wonder why that’s such an impediment to you. But, once I got away from home, when I moved to Coventry to study and met other people, and other black people, then that feeling started to get whittled away.

It is such a moving story, personally and also politically. Did you find filming A Two-Tone Story a cathartic process?

It wasn’t like a cathartic process in those terms. I’d already gone through that when I wrote my book, Black by Design (in 2011), which this film is very much based on. And, that was what Jane Mingay the director, and Nikki Parrott the producer were most interested in. We knew what we were going to do before we set out to do it, but it was kind of organic. It just took shape in a way that I hadn’t expected it to.

The first third of the film really is me chattering on, about what had happened and my thoughts and feelings about what had happened; about my childhood and into my adulthood and what made me make certain decisions. Some subliminally, some quite consciously, about what I was going to be involved in for the rest of my life. And, everything had to be filtered – all my career choices, or whatever – had to be filtered through that prism.

Growing up, I was very aware that I was in a racist society. Making the film, well, I just felt that there were other people like me from mixed race parentage who had been adopted, who probably didn’t know their roots, and didn’t know where they had come from or how they fitted into things – that maybe hearing another person’s story might help them.

Did you, did you learn anything new about yourself ( making the film)?

Oh, I learned lots of new things about myself. I suppose the main thing is that, I had quite a close relationship with our manager Juliet DeVit, because we were the only women on board that huge bus that was trundling through America. We bonded – I think she was very aware of what was going on even if we didn’t discuss it at the time – but hearing her viewpoint 45-years later was quite illuminating. So, that taught me quite a lot about myself; that yeah, I did actually feel that way, and she was very perceptive to have seen that.

At the start you mention ‘growing your identity over time’. Could you tell me a bit about how you’ve changed and grown throughout your life?

At the end of the film, when I discover who my father is, I turn around and say it was then, for the first time ever, I felt comfortable in my black skin. I think that it’s kind of identifying that somebody else went through this. I have a sister (my father’s child), who had scant association with him during his life. She grew up in Switzerland. But, we look a bit alike, we have different mothers, obviously. When I met her, which was quite soon after I went looking for my family, it began to ground me a little bit. I began to think that there is somebody else like me. And then I found that I was the oldest of 17 (!) it all proliferated from there.

People say that everyone’s got to know their roots before they can find themselves. I do think that there is some truth in that. When you know where you come from, even if you didn’t necessarily have an association with that place (or are going to have an association with that place), it really helps you to define yourself and your place in the world.

I really like the section on style and music and how at that time it was really important for working class people. Don Letts talks about your image, ‘Pauline Black was a Rude Boy/Girl, she had this androgynous thing going on and rocked a fedora like no-one else.’ You have always looked really cool!

I didn’t necessarily feel that cool at the time! I remember being on tour in America with the band, we went to New Orleans – I’d always wanted to go to New Orleans and so I was very excited. On the first morning, after we arrived there, I went out walking in full stage gear. The stares that I attracted were quite bizarre! – but as soon as somebody knew I was English, it seemed to trump everything (I hate to use that word, ‘trump’) but anyway… There I was, this English woman in New Orleans dressed in rather a strange way but it was fine. And I thought, yeah, fashion does work!

Do you have any style signifiers?

Well, wearing black and white. I stick to a black and white palette because I’m a bit dyslexic with colour, if there is such a thing! So, give me something that’s pink, or yellow or orange, and it’s too much for me. I just can’t manage it. Give me black and white. I know what to do with that. So, that’s very much my thing. And hats. I just love hats. It doesn’t have to be a fedora. It can be anything. I happen to suit hats, and you never have a bad hair day, which is great.

 And do you think your style has changed over time? It feels pretty consistent to me…

I guess that I have stuck with it, but a lot of that is because I’m still performing. So, I think it has evolved over time. There’s a great pair people, Shaka Maidoh and Sam Lambert from the collective/label Art Comes First, they make men’s clothing but they adapt designs to give to me. It’s very cool. They’re so generous with their time and they just like the fact that I walk around in their gear, and the fact that it’s an older woman wearing their stuff. I just love showing off their clothes, particularly on stage.

There’s a point where you say nothing prepares you for failure (when the new romantics appear and ska/ Two-Tone music isn’t as popular )…

Well, I think all musicians have that problem. It doesn’t matter who you are, everyone’s gone through the doldrums at some point in time. The hits dry up. Even David Bowie had his Tin Machine period, didn’t he?! But he very quickly got back on board. So, I just rolled with the punches. And, there was always someone who would come along saying, ‘Well, why don’t you try this? You ever tried acting? Well, we’ve got this part we think you’d be good for. Well, what about this TV programme to present?’ And I thought, ‘you could do this’, so I just tried it all. Eventually I came back to the thing that I actually love, which was being in a band and singing.

 Tell me about finding the press cuttings and all the magazines that your adoptive mum Ivy had kept, was that a surprise?

I didn’t realise how proud she was of me at the time. She never said, and it was only after she died…The mere thought of her going into newsagents to buy the NME when she was 60-odd, makes me think, oh wow. But I look at it from her point of view; she was born in 1911. Even if your name was in the newspaper in those days, it was a cause for celebration. And you kind of forget, I think, particularly when you’ve been in a band and it’s had some success. It’s like, oh yeah, we’re in the NME again… You can become a bit inured to it.

What would you say drives you?

I  think the thing that drives me is that racism, sexism and all of these -isms still exist; but they’re not based on the human race. The human race is a wonderful and varied animal, isn’t it? I think we have better values than that. And who needs a bigger spur, really, than what’s going on across the pond at the moment? I’m hearing stuff I haven’t heard for years – it makes our movie look a bit tame, now! It’s a source of wonderment to me that we are back here again, and it looks as though other countries are going to follow suit ( to follow what happened in America in November 2024). That’s what’s extraordinary. I find it strange that we have not evolved a little more than that, with everything we’ve been through. I  mean, how many lessons in history do we need?

 What’s the best thing about being 71?

The best thing about it is that I feel much more at ease with myself. I feel much more confident in my opinions and putting them across. Less, ‘Should I say that? Should I not say that?’ Well, if I can’t say it by now, I don’t know when there’s going to be a good time to say it! You get a bit more self-assured. Now I know if somebody wants me to do something, they actually want me to do something because of the way that I am, or what I say.

If you’re going to ask me, what are the negatives… They’re legion, aren’t they?! You get to this age, and you think, actually, I can’t do quite as much as I used to be able to and there are aches and pains. So, you begin to understand people a little bit more – and with understanding comes wisdom.  I used to be able to come to London and you know, whizz around all over the place and go to parties, now I come to London, do one thing and then get on the train and go home. You just don’t have that kind of energy, but you do have energy to do quieter things and more introspective things. I quite enjoy that about being older, the introspection and just changing your habits to enjoy the things around you a little more.

 What quieter things do you enjoy?

I walk a lot in the countryside, and read whenever I can. I write, not hoping to be published, I just write my thoughts and feelings. I try and do that every morning. And I try and get up early every morning because you waste half the day otherwise. I’m not a teenager anymore!

So how’s the film tour going?

It’s just tremendously exciting. I wasn’t expecting this. I was absolutely knocked out that the London Film Festival was interested in it; partly because there were so many other good ones last year.  We had two showings there, both of which sold out. And, we thought, oh that’s quite good! We’ve shown this film 32 times since it opened at the festival in October – and there’s another tranche of dates coming up (schedule HERE). I’ve been as far afield as Edinburgh, Glasgow, down to Exeter, all over. It’s an opportunity to connect in a way, to put my story out there – and it doesn’t feel like work.

I’m constantly happy about the film’s reception. And, in terms of when it dropped into the discourse, it couldn’t have happened at a more appropriate time. I mean, it was shown in October and then the whole American election happened in November. All of those subjects that I’m talking about are right at number one on the agenda again – and being acted on in ways that I didn’t think were possible. So, it’s timely.  It just tells a personal story, but through that, it also makes you wonder what the hell is going on in this world?!

How would you describe yourself in three words?

Happy at last.

The film is currently screening in cinemas across the UK, featuring in-person Q&As with Pauline Black.

More details here:Doc’n Roll Festival –Pauline Black: A 2 Tone Story