Brownbear frontman opens up on racism in Scotland and Black Lives Matters movement

Discord, misunderstanding, fear, resentment, hate.

Racism does not always lead to violence and most of the questionable comments posted on social media and said in daily life are likely the product of ignorance and not malice. It is also fair to say the race relations have taken huge steps forward in recent years – more and more have turned their back on the outdated thinking of a dying generation. More, but not all.

Yet, Matt Hickman looks at his phone screen and begins to see the same arguments playing out, with the same brick walls being put up. The same words, recycled and exhibited, over and over. They serve the same purpose – to force division.

Over the last month, the Black Lives Matters movement has returned to the fore with tensions often erupting into violence. The tinder was the killing of George Floyd in the United States which then led on to a greater examination of how black people are treated by police and other institutions in America.

The conversation spilt over in the UK where racism is, without a doubt, prevalent. Scotland is no exception and reminders of this country's shamed history of slavery was highlighted as evidence. Much like south of the border, demonstrations have been held and calls to remove prominent civic statues have been made.

Discourse remains fractured – often the discussion is hijacked by toxic rhetoric. An exchange of ideas is poisoned by the intrusion of hateful discrimination, cloaked in the guise of equality. There are many who would like to understand the issue better but are often belittled or accused of being racist for trying to ask questions in good faith. They then become defensive and even antagonistic as a result.

Hickman sees these conversations online and hears them in pubs and on the streets. He has seen threads deteriorate at the mention of 'white privilege'. No doubt, the posturing on both sides do nothing to further the discussion and Hickman would appeal to everyone involved to take greater care about the words they use.

In a series of interviews with The Weekender, the Brownbear frontman reaches out to all those who are taking part in debates about the Black Lives Matters movement in the hopes of nurturing a more positive model for discussion.

"It's empathy," he says. "That's what is missing from the conversation – empathy, education and understanding. And I hate when people just shout 'racist' at something they see or read and then try to tear others down. That just won't work.

"I always try and speak to people: 'I hear what you are saying but have you thought about it like his?' A lot of people will ignore you or shout you down because they don't want to listen but for as many that do that, there are some who will say: 'You know what, I hadn't thought about that and what you have said has changed my perspective'.

"We need to appeal to people's humanity; that's the only way we change. I reckon that 95 per cent of the comments that teeter on the realm of offensive or racist are said out of ignorance. We need to remember, then, if someone says something out of ignorance and they are branded a racist then we are in danger of alienating that person and making them racist and making them hate you. We should be bringing that person in and talk to them as people rather pushing them towards a negative.

"It's counter-productive and we see it so often. Someone will shout another person down for something they have said, but never really take the time to talk to them and explain why it is wrong."

He adds: "Pulling down statues – I can understand it and I'm sure it's cathartic – but we can't equally erase history. I think we need to educate on them; we need to have these statues in museums and plaques under certain street names; and a slavery museum in Scotland just like there is in Liverpool.

"Understanding the history means we don't repeat it – we can heal and move on. In Germany, if they had tried to tear down proof of history about the Nazis and the Holocaust, people would be outraged. We can't be outraged by one thing, rightly, and not the other, wrongly. We have to, all of us, as a collective society, be outraged by injustices."

Privilege is a term that regularly sparks conflict. For many working-class people in Scotland, it is an insult. To have toiled and sacrificed for a lifetime, only to be equated with the ruling elite is a volley to the gut. Perhaps the term relative privilege is more appropriate as when the black community argues that all white people, including the working class, have privilege, it is simply to say that a white person typically has fewer barriers to opportunity, not that they are as privileged as, say, the ruling elite.

Such is the loaded nature of the term, conversations about race relations are derailed before progress can be made. For Hickman, white privilege is not a phrase he would use during any discussion about race. However, he does find some peculiarities in the debate.

"Privilege is a funny thing," he reflects. "If you are self-aware and you understand what you are then you shouldn't have any shame in that.

"I have privileges in life, for instance: I grew up in Largs, which is one of the better off towns in the area; I came from a working-class family but never worried about where our next meal was coming from; I am male so I don't have to live through any gender bias and am not spoken down to by other men in the way women are; I am mixed-race so I have lighter skin and so am a little more accessible than, say, someone with very dark skin; and I have a Scottish accent so that's also less intimidating and more accepted.

"Even people with darker skin have privileges but I feel they are a little better at acknowledging it.

"One thing we should note is that everyone in Scotland has access to free education. I understand part of this argument is ignorant because it doesn't take account of all social circumstances, but everyone has the ability to gain an education to remove themselves from the situation they have been dealt.

"That's not the same in every country, especially for university. If I had lived in England then I wouldn't have been able to afford to go to university, but I lived in Scotland so I was given a free education.

"But I know who I am, and I have learned to be proud of myself. If someone was to tell me I was privileged because of all that then I would feel no shame – because it's true.

"It doesn't mean I can't care about other people's experiences. Having been through all I have, I can empathise with someone else's struggle. I don't what it was actually like for them, but I can understand how it feels.

"And people who are defensive when others say they have privilege and they reply: 'How dare you! I've been through this and that'. Well, my big question to those people is if they have really struggled in life, can't they empathise with someone else who is also struggling?

"It can be so hard to have these conversations, especially if something like privilege comes up – particularly in the west of Scotland. Because a lot of these places are working-class towns and there is not a lot of privilege enjoyed there, in comparison to other places.

"People will hear that word and feel it is an attack on them and answer: 'Well, I'm not privileged; how dare you say that about me?' Race and class are different issues, but they are of the same issue – the same system from the top down. The people at the top don't have to worry about race or class and don't understand it, whereas the people at the bottom are defined by those things.

"And those at the top – their biggest fear is realising that the working class have more in common with black people than the likes of Boris Johnson. Because that's the day that everyone realises that our differences are put on us by the same people.

"People have said that if you take race out of it then we won't have divides anymore, but that puts the onus on the people who are divided and not the system that divides us. It excuses the people that are responsible for those divisions.

"Someone suggested to me that if I were to stop using the terms 'black and white' then there would be no division. But if we were to stop using the terms rich and poor, it won't mean poor people would be any richer, nor would the rich become less wealthy. All it does is suppress the truth and we would become part of the oppression. The truth is there are inequalities, but instead of addressing them head-on we would then have dismissed them out of discomfort."

...we have to talk and learn and heal, so we can move on."

Hickman was born and bred in Ayshire, spending his formative years down by the west coast of the country. He was a young man when racism reared its head for the first and came as quite a shock. Since then, incidents have been intermittent but nevertheless present.

He says: "I spent the first eight years of my life without really realising I was a different colour, if that makes sense. I didn't have to be anything other than Matt. I wasn't a black kid, I was just Matt.

"One of the first times I had to address race, I was about eight or nine years old and a boy who was a little older than I was punched me on the face and called me a n****r. At the time, I wasn't offended by what he said, because I didn't know what the word really meant.

"I remember asking my mum and she was heartbroken – I think she hoped that I'd never have to encounter those issues. She thought it was all done; something that she had lived through and that I wouldn't have to."

As time wore on, the singer began to understand more about how black people were perceived in Scotland – it is not an overt prejudice, not something you can recognise and identify at once. Instead, it is more pervasive and ingrained.

"Racism in Scotland is subtle," he continues. "It can be hard to tell. It can be a look, the way someone speaks to you or even asking you where you are from – where you're really from. It's those little things, they crop up every so often to remind you that people see you differently.

"I was born here; I am Scottish. I grew up with this love of a country and then I got old enough to realise that love is not reciprocated. It is not a two-way street. And it can be an odd place to be.

"I hear it from time to time, even in the pub in Largs. Someone said: 'The good thing about Brexit is that we won't have to get any more darkies'. And I challenge them and say: 'Excuse me?' Because that's ignorant, it's disgusting and it's irrelevant. And their response is something along with: 'Well, not you, you are one of the alright ones'. Things like that just remind you that you are viewed as nothing more than a colour."

"I don't define myself by my race, but I am proud of what I am. Society shouldn't define someone by their race and say they must be this that and the other thing because they are black. We should recognise people for who they are and if they are black, then cool, amazing, I celebrate that.

"And it can't be tolerance – tolerance is not progress. You can tolerate your neighbour and not mind him living next door, but it doesn't mean you like or would ever let him in your house. It's not enough to be tolerant, we have to celebrate each other."

As a musician, Hickman has also witnessed a striking lack of diversity in the industry and an overwhelming tendency to pigeonhole black artists into so-called "black genres". Brownbear is an indie rock band and came from the mind of a man who likes rock music and grew up listening to rock and metal acts. But too often he feels the industry baulks at the idea of trying to promote a black man in that scene.

He says: "The music industry has become so lackadaisical – they'll say things like: 'We don't know where to pitch you [in terms of genre]. But if your job is marketing then your job is not to go out and find something popular and put it out, you are supposed to know how to market things.

"You see white artists being pushed into those supposed black genres, but not so much with black artists being pushed into genres other than hip hop."

Hickman's musical journey, at its core, is no different from any other artists on the Britpop or indie circuit.

A lot of people say: 'Oh, you define yourself by your colour'. But really, my colour was given to me. I was never black – I was told I was black; I was defined by colour and spent a life having to justify it."

He was inspired by bands he listened to as a young man and took up an instrument. That said, his penchant for writing came as a bit of a fortunate accident.

"I was always just obsessed with music," Hickman recalls. "It was always just my thing. I didn't come from a musical family, but a family of music lovers. From a young age, I was listening to everything and it started a lifelong fascination.

"I just wanted to play the guitar and my friends were into Green Day and Blink-182 and Nirvana. For me, it was always Nirvana – they were straight to the point and there was something about that mentality that was amazing.

"I had a wee band with some guys, but at first I just was not good enough at the guitar so I thought I would try writing. I was always pretty quick to come up with something, usually to make people laugh. But then I thought that maybe I could write something that would make people think or even cry so I started to write songs for the band.

"We didn't have a singer so we all drew straws and it fell on me and I could not sing; I really sucked. And I knew nothing about singing, so I just tried to sing in the same way I speak, which is really low. So, I sort of got lumped with it, but I took it on the chin, and I ended up getting really into writing."

A few years later and Hickman started a new project – Brownbear. It is a six-piece with Hickman out in front and supported by vocals from Wendy McAuslan and Sabrina Mandulu. Andy Quinn plays bass with Stirling natives Sam Waller and Andrew McAllister on the drums and guitar, respectively. Waller and McAllister were formerly members of Miniature Dinosaurs, well-known in the Forth Valley area. However, the origin of the band name is, more or less, lost to pages time.

He said: "I tell people a different story every time, it just came out of nowhere and it stuck. I love it, though, it's become our thing and we all take pride in. But I'm not sure where it came from.

"I know that when I was younger that I had a small brown teddy bear that was my favourite thing in the world, and I took it everywhere. His name was Sammy Lucky and I remember thinking that would be a class name for the band. I reckon, that if the band gets big enough and we want to do a surprise show someplace then we'll bill ourselves as Sammy Lucky and only hardcore folk will get it – all The Weekender fans will get it."

The band released a handful of singles and later an album – they were beginning to make a name for themselves in Scotland, supporting huge acts including The Libertines at The Barrowlands in Glasgow. But as soon as things began to pick up, down came a sickening reminder for Hickman.

He says: "A lot of people say: 'Oh, you define yourself by your colour'. But really, my colour was given to me. I was never black – I was told I was black; I was defined by colour and spent a life having to justify it.

"It's tough to not define myself by my colour because everyone around me is doing that for me."

"I remember someone who was working with us on our first album and he was discussing who he would take it to, label wise. He was black, too, and he mentioned that he 'knew this one guy at this label' who was 'a brother' and the safest place to get someone to listen to our record.

"That was 2014-15 and we were talking about taking the album to a brother because they were more likely to hear you out. That's not the attitude we should have; that's wrong. We should be able to go into any label and have them take us on the merit of who we are and as an artist.

"Throughout the industry, there is a lack of diversity out there – from the top-down, through management, labels, and on the road with crews.

"We applied for funding at one point for the band and we were told that, you know, it was a great application but maybe we would be better suited applying to a Mobo (Music of Black Origin) fund.

"I am glad we have support available for black artists… But the Mobo award was half the amount as the other one. It's just not right.

"There is so little representation for black people in rock and indie, and that goes back to that Mobo award where they were looking for hip hop and R'n'B artists and it was so stereotypical. So, I'm too dark for the other fund, but not black enough because I play indie music.

"I really don't want there to even be a need for black funds or even black genres – we, as artists, should be seen as equals and have the same opportunity. That's why representation and diversity in the music industry is important; it's not about artists being black, it's about people in these organisations being black or Asian, mixed or ethnic because artists need to see themselves in those people and those people need to see themselves in the artists."

A month ago, as the fallout from the death of George Floyd was arguably at its height, the music industry – or at least some prominent parts of it – colluded for the purpose of highlighting the contribution of black people to the arts.

...those at the top – their biggest fear is realising that the working class have more in common with black people than the likes of Boris Johnson. Because that's the day that everyone realises that our differences are put on us by the same people."

They called it Blackout Tuesday and it called upon musicians who were not of colour to stay silent on social media for a day to help amplify the voices of black artists. Many were encouraged to post black squares or show their support for Black Lives Matter.

For Hickman, however, the whole episode felt like an empty gesture. The singer felt that the industry had been more focused on trying to get things back to normal that it had been on hoisting up the black voice.

He reflects: "It was a bit of a gimmick – I don't even know why they called it Blackout Tuesday. What was that? It seemed like the industry only wanted people to stop talking about the issue so they could go back to their release schedule.

"The whole thing was a bit disingenuous and I don't think anything has changed at all. But I'd love to be corrected on that.

"It's just a trend. I honestly can't figure out what the industry's plan was – they are committed to doing better? What does that even mean? It's so open-ended, they can just say it and move on.

"I don't think we should stop questioning that because we are letting them off the hook.

"Republic Records came out and said they would drop the use of the word 'urban' to describe music and acts. So that's someone who has genuinely went and thought we should erase this because it's not positive. But that's one of the few examples of a company that has thought of something and put it into action.

"Everyone else is basically just saying they are being committed to being nicer to black folks – wow, that's nothing to be proud of. You should be f***ing ashamed if that wasn't the case to begin with.

"Maybe I'm not looking in the right places, but I don't see how anything has changed," he added.

"People at record labels basically want bands to do their jobs for them and they'll get involved when the job is done. Bands will struggle for years and labels will come in at the end and take the credit.

"They are supposed to be able to create superstars and the fact they are only able to create one maybe once every two years is an absolute failure – those in that industry should bow their heads in shame. Their sole role in this business is to do that.

"Too often we excuse that and say: 'Well it's difficult these days – there's no money'. But there is money in music, but it's used for the select few."

A little more leadership remains high up on the list of things Hickman would like to see more of in the industry. He reckons too many acts play it safe and shy away from difficult conversations, especially ones that may cost them parts of their fanbase.

Many indie bands have used their voice to support Black Lives Matter and Hickman is grateful for that. Black people are just as welcome in the indie crowds and the fact that there are some bands speaking directly to black communities is a bright light in the maelstrom. It is a small gesture, but one that could easily divert an entire generation of black musicians into indie rock and not other genres.

Hickman says: "It's amazing that acts like Reverend and the Makers and Sam Fender have been speaking out and supporting [the BLM movement] and saying that if they lose fans for it then it's not an issue. Because if they have young black fans, they will look at that and feel they are welcome there. It doesn't matter if that artist is not black, they belong there if they want to be. Maybe they'll be inspired to get up on stage and do it themselves.

"Rock and metal was my first love – Nirvana and Metallica. But you don't always feel like you are a part of that. There is not a whole lot of black people in metal; it is so rare. It's not enough to have a tokenistic person, it has to be representative."

The debate on race relations is dynamic and will last well beyond lockdown, the current government, into the next decade and beyond. While steps forward can be found, there is always a danger of damage being caused by reactionary clashes that erupt on social media, in political discourse and in public forums.

Hickman is hopeful that, over time, people will begin to take a more reasoned approach to the issue and learn to listen to each other. He tasks both sides of the argument to do the same. The last thing he wants is to spend his days staring at the same words on screens or hearing the same arguments play out over and over.

The Ayrshire man says: "Healthy differences are fine – we should all be individuals and it would be boring if we were all the same. But those differences should not be offensive to anyone. And if someone is reading this and they have a problem with someone being different, then that is on them. If that's your issue, then you have to go a figure that out. I am so sick of people having to justify themselves – they shouldn't have to do that; it's on other people to understand.

He adds: "What I would say to people, if your genuine position right now is that you've seen all these things being said – whether it's racism in music or racism generally – and you are affected by it but don't know what to do or say, then just say that. I think that could be the best thing to post because others might be able to help you or give some suggestions, but there will be so many other people thinking the same thing. Then the discussion is then out in the open and we can take it forward. If we all sit there and think: 'I don't know what to say' then nothing changes.

"That's why I think you can't say the wrong thing. If you have the best intentions, then you can't say the wrong thing. It might come across wrong but if the person you say it to is reasonable it should be OK. And we have to be reasonable with each other. The black community cannot ask white people to be reasonable but not reciprocate if they say something wrong. You can't just jump down someone's throat and shout racist, we have to talk and learn and heal, so we can move on – the only way to do it is to be honest and to listen to each other."