On the short walk from Mabel’s photoshoot to a nearby King’s Cross bar, people stare. The 21-year-old R&B newcomer is, in her words, “serving looks”. A denim corset cinches her beige jumper, its folded sleeves making her arms look like Shar-Peis, those funny wrinkly dogs. Purple sunglasses cover her extraordinary face. She recounts the story of once stopping a catcaller’s car to teach him a lesson. From her energy, you’d never know Mabel came straight off a plane from New York. She is part of the new British R&B explosion and is currently jetting between cities to record her debut album. At home in London, she lives with her parents, Neneh Cherry and Massive Attack producer Cameron McVey, though she’s keen to create her own legacy. “I remember listening to Blue Lines and being like, ‘that’s annoying’, because my dad’s really good,” she jokes. “I just wanted to figure it out for myself.”
Asserting her musical identity was hard. Mabel stole her older sister’s love of R&B, but thinks her appreciation stemmed from family holidays at her mum’s childhood home in Sweden. Mabel never met her grandfather, the late jazz musician Don Cherry, but she grew up listening to his record collection in the summer house. “Stevie Wonder, Minnie Riperton,” she recalls, ordering mint tea. “Destiny’s Child’s harmonies remind me of Earth, Wind & Fire.” Cherry’s handwritten music was also there, and Mabel learned to sight-read so she could understand it. “I felt so proud and connected to speak his language.”
Her father also worked on the Sugababes’ debut, One Touch (a four-year-old Mabel napped in the studio during its recording), and it’s easy to imagine the trio taking on the self-possessed, 90s-tinged material on Mabel’s forthcoming EP, Bedroom. She lights up at the idea. “That record’s pop, but they didn’t tailor it to the mainstream – that sound became pop,” she enthuses. “That’s what I want to do. I’m not embarrassed to say I want to sell loads of records and be really successful and maybe win a few Grammys.”
As a child Mabel suffered from anxiety, and the family moved from London to Stockholm to manage it in a calmer city. It disappeared until her teens, when bullying reignited it. At music school, she felt isolated as she tried to fit in with her indie peers. “I remember trying so hard to get into Bon Iver,” she remembers. “I’d lie in bed listening with my eyes screwed up, like, ‘this is just depressing me’. I was so focused on being OK that it wasn’t my finest work.” She finished her studies at home, and decided to stop taking medication. “Being a creative person, I want to feel the highs and the lows.”
When Mabel was 18, the family returned to London. It boosted her drive – after laid-back Sweden, she found the city’s hustle “shocking, in an amazing way”. Her mum encouraged her to take any creative jobs going: a photoshoot for i-D caught the attention of Skepta’s creative director, Grace LaDoja, who cast her in his video Shutdown. The experience helped restore Mabel’s cultural identity. “I’d been really confused because I left London when I was really young,” she says, “and you have to know about where you’re from to really know yourself.”
She also found a manager, who connected her with Athlete frontman Joel Pott. They wrote the trip-hoppy Know Me Better, which went viral. She signed to Universal a month later, aged 18. The past three years have been, purposefully, a slow burn. Supporting Years & Years last year, she was worried about making mistakes. “But that’s not why people pay to see you,” she realised. “They want energy and good vibes.” Despite her ambition, she’s uninterested in competing with female peers such as Jorja Smith, Nao and Ray BLK. “It’s a male construct that powerful women should fight. Why are somebody else’s blessings my curses?”
On Bedroom, Mabel explores different sides of control. The title track recounts a toxic breakup. Sampling Diwali Riddim, Finders Keepers is about no-strings sex, her perspective recalling Salt’n’Pepa, TLC and of course, her mother, who taught her to “own everything you do”. As she stirs honey into her tea, Mabel says she has tried to change herself for men in the past, and regrets it. “Love without ownership would be ideal. Is that possible?” she asks. If anyone can figure it out, it’s this smart, endearing woman. “What gives you real power is when you know your power,” she says. “And I feel quite powerful.”
