Charlotte Plank is taking us on a girls’ night out
Charlotte Plank is more than part of the drum and bass renaissance. With angsty lyrics, a “squeaky pop topline” and a thundering bass, she’s carving out her own lane with tunes that embody the essence of raving then crying in the club bathroom. Plank may only be twenty-three, but the steely determination behind her icy blue eyes is perceptible. She’s already collaborated with some of the industry’s biggest names, like Rudimental and Hybrid Minds — artists from her mum’s university mix tapes that Plank grew up listening to — but she’s insistent that she doesn’t let those projects define her. Like many female artists, she’s wary of getting stuck in the feature lane. After all, she didn’t moonlight at a supermarket, living her so-called “Hannah Montana life”, to only be recognised for the male artists she’s worked with.
To speak to, Plank is equal parts tenderness and edge — a self-confessed girl’s girl, who often weaves female- specific idiosyncrasies into our conversation. Curled up on her boyfriend’s bedroom floor, Plank’s video-call background evokes a feeling of teenage nostalgia. It’s a fitting setting to discuss the artist’s debut EP. A coming-of-age, chaotic record, Clubliminal is about the messiness of growing up. And the more she speaks, the clearer it becomes that Plank is just like her music — animated, introspective and refreshingly unfiltered.
Clara Taylor: Tell me about your recent debut tour!
Charlotte Plank: I wanted the experience to be like your favourite club night, while also watching your favourite band. Growing up, I saw The 1975 and London Grammar, but I was also going to these weird, random squat raves. I loved the feeling of both, so I wanted to bring them together. We had some crazy shows, like when we performed on a boat. The whole thing was shaking. It was probably the sweatiest show I’ve ever done. A bit of a white wine blur, to be honest.
CT: What went into the decision to tour with an all-female band?
CP: It was never a premeditated plan. It just fell into place. Gabi [King] is an amazing drummer — she also drums for The 1975 – and is an absolute machine. It was always a dream of mine to have a cellist, so having Kristina [Rhodes] was great. We became this girl-power crew in this male-dominated industry. Things are getting better for women in the dance space, but there’s still a long way to go. Female DJs still get so much shit and they don’t get taken seriously. That’s why it’s so great to see this new wave of female artists smashing it and hyping each other up.
CT: You’ve collaborated with some big names like Rudimental. What was it like working with people you grew up listening to?
CP: I first met Rudimental when I was a guest vocalist for them at Brixton Academy. I was still working in a supermarket at the time, so I performed at my dream venue and then went off to my 6am shift. I was living a Hannah Montana life. But I’m glad I had my own stuff out beforehand. A lot of female artists get stuck in the feature lane, and it can be quite difficult to get out of it.
CT: You’ve described your music as ‘melantronic’. Do you think having that emotional edge helps listeners who wouldn’t otherwise connect with the genre?
CP: One hundred percent. There are a lot of pop-girly fans who had never really listened to dance music that I picked up supporting Caity Baser. I guess that’s what I do — I bridge the underground with the mainstream.
CT: Was it a conscious decision to fuse those worlds together?
CP: I used to sing a lot of soul music, but then I was going out to raves and listening to that kind of music, too. In lockdown, I saved for a laptop and started messing about — like what would it sound like if Nirvana, PinkPantheress and Goldie had a baby? My first ever song, ‘Hate Me’, was my first proper attempt at mixing drum and bass and a squeaky pop topline. It ended up being the song that got me signed.
CT: Your EP, Clubliminal, feels like a coming-of-age project. What inspired it?
CP: Stories of stuff that happened to my friends and me when we were younger. It’s like a coming-of-age fairytale that romanticises the trials and tribulations of growing up. The most personal song is ‘Ellen’. Ellen’s my middle name and it’s a letter I wrote to myself just before I got signed. The lyrics, “Ellen, if you can make it past twenty-seven”, reference the 27 Club because Kurt Cobain, Amy Winehouse and Jimi Hendrix were big inspirations of mine. It’s about going through tough times and wondering how I’m going to make it work.
CT: Were there any surprising parts of writing such personal records?
CP: I’ll go into a session and my subconscious just bleeds out. I was in a toxic, jealous relationship and didn’t realise how much it affected me until I wrote about it. I guess it’s a diary of the subconscious.
CT: Did you have a specific feeling in mind when making the Clubliminal?
CP: Clubliminal is about club music with all the subliminal thoughts and feelings. It’s designed for any point of the day — whether you’re in your room coming down from a night out, or suddenly sad about something you didn’t realise upset you. But equally about the euphoria of being on the dancefloor and lost in the moment. Like, when you meet someone in a club bathroom and you’re telling them your life story, crying. Alone-together kind of vibes.
- PhotographerRankin
- StylistEmilia Batory
- WriterClara Taylor
- Make-Up ArtistFreya Paxton using DIOR Beauty
- Hair StylistEmma Small at Stella Creative Artists using HAIR BY SAM MCKNIGHT
- Fashion AssistantPhoebe Joy Mason
- RetouchingAlice Constance
