Jodie Harsh releases debut memoir You Had to Be There: ‘The vulnerability dial is turned way up’ (EXCLUSIVE)
"These were traumatic moments, and I’ve carried them through my life," says Jodie as she speaks candidly about her debut book
By Aaron Sugg
DJ, drag queen and nightlife extraordinaire Jodie Harsh has published her first book, a memoir entitled You Had to Be There. Released last week via publisher Faber, the book is a thrilling retrospective of London club culture from the early 2000s to the financial crash of 2008 and beyond, all from Jodie’s perspective.
From her friendship with Amy Winehouse, to falling out with her dad and never reconciling before he passed, to battles with addiction and moments of success, one thing remained constant: her love for music and performing. This 17-chapter life story tells it all with “no room for regrets. The book is honest” revealing that even though there are heavy parts, Jodie did not want to do her readers a disservice.
Jodie spoke exclusively to Attitude the day after her book released, still in disbelief that her whole life was now on bookshelves across the country. Describing what it felt like for the finished product to be available to the world, she said: “Surreal, because obviously, I’ve lived with the writing for a couple of years.”
What makes this memoir so vulnerable?
It feels different from what I’ve been used to. For years, I’ve stood on stages hoping people would come to a festival stage, buy tickets to a gig, or whatever. There’s vulnerability in that too, any creative work exposes a part of yourself.
Writing this book is different because it’s so personal, the vulnerability dial is turned way up. When I’m performing in drag, it’s a performance, but this book is more metaphorically taking off the wig and saying, Here’s the real truth. It’s a story of someone running away to a big city, navigating life, and finding their way. I’m the character, but it could be anyone’s story. It could happen in any city, though it happens to be London because that’s where I lived. I hope readers from Manchester, Glasgow, Sydney, anywhere, can relate.
What made you decide to write a memoir, why now?
There’s so much talk about clubs shutting everywhere. I realised I’d always talked to friends about nightlife, about places that don’t exist anymore, and there’s almost no record of many of them… I thought, someone who went to five clubs a night for a decade is perfectly placed to tell that story, having experienced it as a punter, a clubber, a promoter, a DJ, even working the door.
I never thought I’d write a book because I’m quite private. But someone on my team suggested there might be a book in me. My first reaction was: “Who cares? People just want to come and dance. They don’t need to know my life.” But then I tried writing a couple of chapters, the Camden chapter, and chapter one over Christmas a few years ago. When I shared it, my team said: “Oh my God, I need to know the rest of the story.” That’s when I realised I had to write the whole book.
What is one story from the memoir that was hardest for you to share?
Chapter one, when I’m 15 and running away from home, doing things I shouldn’t be doing, taking drugs in clubs. I thought, gloves off, I’m not holding anything back. Writing that way brought up emotions, especially about my dad. We fell out twice: once because I’m gay, once because I’m a drag queen. He discovered both by accident. These were traumatic moments, and I’ve carried them through my life.
Towards the end of writing, my dad died before we patched things up. That was a huge shame. The book isn’t particularly kind to him, but he wasn’t particularly kind to me. That’s life. Friends and clubs also pass away; some people in my book, like Amy [Winehouse], died after the era I write about.
Were there any experiences you initially considered leaving out but decided to include in the end?
Not really. I mean, there are definitely some bits in there, you know, there’s a dodgy teacher, there’s my dad’s stuff, there’s lots of drug stuff. It gets quite unpleasant with drugs. But to withhold things, I think, would be doing a disservice to my story. Yeah, it all had to go in, really.
I just thought, look, if I’m doing this, I’m doing this. I don’t want to put a book out there about my life and then, in five years’ time, wonder if it would have been better had I been honest about certain things. The book is just honest. It’s all in there. Some of it is quite sad, some of it’s a bit disgusting, some of it’s uncomfortable, but that’s life. Sometimes life’s a bit gross, sometimes it’s a bit uncomfortable, sometimes it’s a bit shit, and sometimes things happen that you have no control over. And they had to go in. There’s no room for regrets. It’s all in there.
Which chapter or moment do you hope will resonate most with readers?
Chapter one is where I walk into a club called the London Astoria, on Tottenham Court Road, which isn’t there anymore. The book opens with me stepping into a nightclub for the very first time. That feeling of being young, feeling like the odd one out and alone, and then suddenly walking into this huge room and seeing 2,000 people like me, with the music I loved playing, it was such a relief. I just thought, oh my God, I’m not alone. This can be home. I’ve found my community, I don’t have to be alone anymore. That’s really what Chapter one is all about, and I hope people get a lot from it.
Where did the title come from?
Well, I was sat with my manager and we were chatting about phrases you might say when talking about a last night kind of thing. This was before I even started writing the book. I was throwing out some rubbish suggestions, and then I think it was my manager who said, how about, you know, when you’re like, You Had to Be There, it was so good, and I was like, oh my God, I can see the whole book.
Looking back, what part of your journey are you most proud of?
I’m proud of sticking with what I do, making myself the odd one out, making myself visible. It doesn’t get queerer than a bloody drag queen, right? Especially because I play in a lot of straight spaces too, and I’m glad I can bring that visibility. I’m not saying I’m flying the flag for all the gays and queers of the world, but I am proud of showing up in those spaces.
I’m basically saying: I’m here, I’m about as queer as you can fucking get. Now let’s dance, let’s all come together, let’s have a party. We’re all a bit different, we’re all a bit weird, let’s celebrate life, especially because it’s dark out there sometimes.
I’m also really proud of writing the book. I’ve been listening to the audiobook this week, I got sent a link just before it drops, and as I listened, I realised I didn’t want to change a single thing. That’s amazing for me, because with music I’m often self-critical.
Who inspires you musically?
So many people. I listen from classical to techno, 70s to 2000s. If I compare my music, maybe Armand Van Helden, party starters, big dance tunes, not too dark.
Who inspires your writing style?
I read a lot of memoir and fiction. Recently, I’ve been reading He’s the Devil by Toby Coventry, a thriller horror but very descriptive. I want my writing to be immersive, to make readers feel like they’re in the club with me.
Did writing the memoir change your perspective on any past experiences?
It makes me appreciate all the different experiences I’ve had and how mad life has been for me, in a good way. I didn’t come from money, and I didn’t have famous parents. I’m not a nepo baby like so many of my friends. So I hope people see that this book is about someone who started with nothing and thought, right, let’s take life by the horns, let’s fuck it up, let’s have a fucking party with it. And honestly, that’s always been my mentality.
What is one thing from the memoir you think might shock or surprise readers?
The amount of drugs I took… I really went there, and it was the noughties. It’s a long time ago now. I haven’t touched anything in years, but that was part of my journey.
Do you have any regrets?
No, like I was saying, I’ve really tried to go through life with no regrets. You can’t change the past, it’s all about growth and development. I could sit there and say, oh, poor me, but what’s the point? It doesn’t solve anything. The past is the past. What is useful is sharing it, talking about it, and understanding it, because once you understand your past, you can move on.
Are there misconceptions about you or your life that you specifically wanted to address in the book?
That I look like that all the time, as in always in drag. I think people assume that because I don’t really show another side of me. But me sleeping in that wig, oh, can you imagine?
The biggest lesson you’ve learnt in life?
Keep going. Just keep going.
What is your message to your younger self?
Would that be your message to your younger self? Yeah, just keep going. You’ve just got to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep going. And then you’ll end up where you are now, writing a memoir. I know, I can’t believe it. I still can’t believe I’m in the book.
You can order You Had to Be There through retailers like Waterstones, via Faber’s official website or on Amazon UK.