Suzie Q!

American singer, bass guitarist, songwriter and actor, Suzi Quatro on her five-decade-long love affair with the UK, her adopted country

By Suzi Quatro

October 9 2024

Let’s start at the beginning, which was 3 June, 1950. I was born and raised in Detroit, a city without compare (as anyone from there will tell you). The vibe and energy simply never leave you, no matter how long you’ve been gone. I’d been in bands since I was 14 and by 1971, at the age of 21, I had two offers to go solo, both in one week! One was from Elektra Records, which wanted to turn me into the next Janis Joplin; the other from the famous English producer Mickie Most, who wanted to take me to Britain and make me the first Suzi Quatro. It was a no-brainer! I packed my bags, jumped on my first jumbo jet, and landed on British soil on 31 October, 1971, where a driver was waiting for me at Heathrow. The card said ‘Susie Quantrell’. I couldn’t get over how small everything was: the roads, the cars, the shops, the food portions in restaurants. Then there was the lack of TV stations; the absence of rock’n’roll on the radio; the strange sense of humour; and that accent. It was truly an alien country. On my first night in my Earls Court hotel, The Aston Villas, I went up onto the roof and looked at the Moon, thinking how far away from home I was, feeling lonely as hell, and wondering if my family could see the same Moon as me!

Time passed. The recording wasn’t going well and I kept extending my stay. Finally, I formed my own band, singing my own songs, and then things started to make sense. The rest is history. As I became familiar with everything British, I realised what a wonderful sense of humour you Brits have. It’s mischievous (when I arrived the driver told me the Thames was pronounced “Thaaaames”) and hilarious, clever, insightful, and often subtle or wry, different to US slapstick. You are also a very private people, not easy to read (and given that I like to think I can read most people, you’re a challenge). You don’t share every problem or seek psychiatric help whenever you fall off the edge. I like that about you. And when you make a British friend, they are a loyal and caring friend for life. Oh, and another thing: I love the British sense of fairness. It is a rare trait, and one you should be proud of. But even after a decade of living here, I was still easily surprised by quirky British behaviour. It must have been the Eighties — I had just appeared on the Michael Parkinson show, which was quite a big deal at the time. The night after the show aired on TV, I attended a society event — ladies in long dresses, blue rinse hair, pearls; the men in dinner jackets. All very posh, and I felt very out of my depth. And before you ask, no I didn’t wear my leather jumpsuit!

Suzi onstage in a trademark leather jumpsuit, c. 1975

Guests were gathered in groups of threes and fours. At one point, a very grand older lady came over to me. I felt the room go quiet. “I saw you on the Michael Parkinson show last night,” she said, in a very posh accent like The Queen. There was a pause and then she said: “I didn’t realise you had a brain.” Another long pause. Finally, I ‘answered’ by raising my glass of champagne. “Well, f*** me,” I muttered to myself as she walked away and the party resumed. Was she giving me a compliment? Knowing you as well as I do now, I reckon she was.

To say I have embraced your country is an understatement: I live in an Elizabethan manor house built in 1590. My two children and granddaughter were all conceived and born here, and they are Essex through and through. But the cultural differences remain, and every now and then I am reminded that I’m not yet a bona fide Brit. One day, while I was driving down my local street, I saw an open bakery, parked the car and went in. There was a long line and people recognised me, so as I stood there, I became increasingly uncomfortable. When it came to my turn, I asked the lady behind the counter, in my best Midwestern accent for 12 “open bread cakes”. She gave me a blank expression, which irritated me because I thought she was pretending to not understand my accent. “I’d like 12 open bread cakes, please.” This time I was louder and clearer and very pronounced but she still kept staring at me and a few people in the queue began to giggle. Finally, the penny dropped. I had been asking for the shop sign, which read “Open Bread Cakes”. My humiliation was complete and I left the shop empty-handed. Oh, and to this day I still don’t know why I ordered 12.

With (from left) YolanDa Brown, Ranald Macdonald and Jools Holland, winning Album of the Year for Face to Face at the Boisdale Music Awards 2023

So there we have it. I was supposed to stay for three months, record an album and go back home to Detroit. But I am writing this piece on 11 March, 2024. I have been here for more than 50 years. Wow. How did that happen? The learning curve — getting to know the country, the people, and their ways — has been wonderful. I love my house and I love being here, even though I never stop missing my roots. I am and always will be “the girl from Detroit city”, albeit one who’s still living in England.