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A couple of years after I had wistfully dreamed of being Baby Spice, my music consumption was a combination of school disco classics (S Club 7, Shaggy, B Witched), the Bollywood songs and Indian classical my parents blasted from the car at the weekend and, perhaps most importantly, the music channels at my best mate’s place. Here I would discover MTV Base, which would lead to the creation of a shrine to three women on my bedroom wall: Michelle Williams, Kelly Rowland and Beyoncé Knowles. It’s possible that, not understanding at aged nine that African American and British Indian were two quite different identities, they appealed to me because they were brown-skinned women – but perhaps I would have been just as drawn to any other girl group making such powerful pop songs. All I know is that they quickly became everything to me. The choppy sonics of Bug-a-Boo were like nothing I’d ever heard, and I sang along with no clue of what the lyrics meant; I was moved by

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