
Chelcee’s dog Santiago (or Santi for short) attends all her interviews from home. “As soon as he knows I’m going to be talking he just runs in” she laughs, as he beds down in the lap of her beige tracksuit. You might expect a frantic energy from Chelcee Grimes – the trailblazing Liverpool-born footballer, songwriter, musician, broadcaster and more. But, chatting over Zoom in December, she’s a calm, warm presence, with the quiet confidence of someone who’s really found her niche.
It’s December and everyone’s winding down for the year. With everything that you do, do you find it hard to stop working?
If I need a slob day, I can listen to my body. I’m a Taurus – a home comfort kind of person. But when I’m feeling inspired, or I have a lot to say, I just have to sit down and do it – as a song writer you don’t know when that’s going to happen. I’ve done music now for 10 years, so sometimes it can feel more like a job – I feel a bit more restricted to a schedule. But if something’s there, I’ve got to just go with it. So I try to write everything down, and record it, because you just never know. I say all the time that I’m a storyteller. I love a good story, digging in, speaking to people.
What makes a good story?
For me a good story doesn’t always have a beginning, middle and end. I’m not arty-farty about things. If you listen to any record I’ve written for myself or anyone else, you might feel like it’s sad or not going your way, but by the time you hit the bridge or the mid-8, we call it, there’s a bit of hope there that emerges from any story I want to tell. It’s never over until the final whistle, I do live my life by that. It’s never over, even if we’re losing a game. It’s how I feel about life – not everything goes my way, but I’m alright with that – I’m still in it. That hope is what makes a good story for me.
You talk about honesty being the basis for your songwriting – when you’re working with lots of producers and collaborating with other writers, how do you keep that honesty at the heart of your work?
I’ll be honest right now with you (laughs), it’s difficult. I wrote a record here with my dog on my lap and now it’s starting to get traction, more artists want the record. You’re always conflicted. Music is great and it makes me feel things, but at the end of the day, it’s a business. I used to be a lot more starry eyed, if I was 21 and I’d written this song, I’d have had blinkers on, like “this song’s for me!”. But now, I weigh my options up a bit more. I’m wise to it. I’ve stopped being so controlling. I do still try to go with my heart, but now my mind comes into it a bit more.
When I was 15 or 16, going “I think I want to be a footballer, oh, I also want to be in music and a songwriter”, there was no one even close to it in my world.


On your BBC podcast ‘Queertopia’, you describe yourself as a ‘new generational girl’. Tell me more about that.
I don’t only speak for myself. It’s always hard to get a message across when you want to say you feel a bit different from someone without sounding like a complete knob. No women in my family had built success as a single woman. I’m from a working class family in Liverpool in the North, with people just getting on and putting food on the table. When I was 15 or 16, going “I think I want to be a footballer, oh, I also want to be in music and a songwriter”, there was no one even close to it in my world. I don’t know what it was, just being crazy, or having a belief that I could do it.
I was of a generation (in the early-mid 2000s) where there were a lot of women at the top in music. But at the same time, it was super sexualised RnB pop – women oiled up on beaches. I was thinking I don’t want to do this… I was a teenager and also thinking oh, I think I fancy girls now, this is going to change the whole thing. I was working in two very masculine territories with a lot of misogyny, being told not to tell people I fancied girls, to keep everyone on my side. It was ropey – the things that happened to me, the stories I was told, the way I was told to behave.
There’s so many stories where I almost had [success] and then it was taken away. It was chaos. But I sit here now in my 30s, I look at my life, and it’s just a new age of woman. I drive my car to the petrol station and people say “Oh, nice car, what does your husband do?” And I’m like… “it’s actually all me.” I’m so proud of that, because I’d never seen that. Now there’s so many women going out and doing what they want to do. It’s amazing I’ve even done this well, because I really had my flag in the sand and wasn’t budging for anyone. It took me a bit longer because I did it my way.
What was that like? Sticking your flag in the sand and refusing to budge, so young?
I signed a 4 record deal, which was pretty much unheard of at the time. It was scary. You go into the meetings and they tell you what the music video’s going to look like. I was asking if I could have a woman in the video and that was like… absolutely not. Then you don’t get your budget if you don’t agree. I was only 17 when all that was happening to me. As much as I wanted to come out and be like “this is who I am”, I couldn’t, because I’d have been sent back to having a normal job.
There were times when who I was made me not want to do music – because I feared getting famous and then having to be interviewed about my sexuality. Now I will talk about it any chance I can. I bided my time until I got to a place where I was comfortable and safe enough to come out – because ten years ago, I didn’t have any support around me. Now, my sister is 16 and everyone on her playlist is queer. It’s so good that so many artists now are just themselves.
It’s the same feeling making music and playing football. It’s the same burn, and the mindset is so similar.
Let’s talk about your new single: GIRL.
Although I’m on it, to be honest for me that song is such a Krystal Roxx record. She’d seen me working on a record with Nile Rogers, and had a Rogers-inspired track she’d written. She played it to me and in four minutes, I’d laid the whole thing down. It was such a nice moment, because with some songs you can spend weeks [writing] and it’s super intense, you’re making a lot of changes. With Krystal it was so easy, and that never happens. The song is a feel-good thing for the girls and that’s it.
You left football for music, and then came back. What was it that drew you back to the game?
Just getting kicked on the weekend (laughs). In all honesty, I just love the game. It keeps me very grounded. When I go across that white line I’m not thinking about money or music or anything else that keeps me up at night. On the pitch I’ve just got to win the header, or get the ball into the net and that’s it. It keeps me lighter. Win or lose, sport is the forefront of who I am as a person. It’s the fundamentals of me. I don’t give up, because my coaches have instilled that in me. I can send a record to someone, and they might pass, but I will get that song cut by someone, because I will not stop when I believe in something. It’s the same feeling making music and playing football. It’s the same burn, and the mindset is so similar. The only thing is with football, after 90 minutes you’re either a winner or a loser, with music you have to wait a few weeks before you know what’s up.
You got into presenting by doing vox pops for BBC Sport, talking to football fans about fashion. How do fashion and football intersect for you?
Fashion is just an expression, the same as football – the way you express yourself on the pitch. I would never dream of wearing a black football boot. I like to draw defenders in to think we’re going to nail her today (laughs). Fashion on the pitch – how do you wear your hair, what boots are you wearing, what do your shin pads look like – all that is just self-expression. You look good, feel good, play good – it’s all as one. And the fits people are now turning up in to watch a game… it’s transformed since I started watching it, the way people style their jerseys and stuff. Now I’m into collecting vintage shirts too.

You’ve written for some iconic artists – Kylie, Dua Lipa, The Saturdays. Do you find it different from writing for yourself?
I find it much harder writing for myself. When it comes to my own stuff, I’m trying to break barriers, do something different. I feel like a chameleon at times – I can flow in and out of different peoples minds and different perspectives. But at the same time, when it comes down to what I want to say, that makes me dig a lot deeper. It’s a bit uncomfortable. I’m so much happier sitting by and asking another artist “what’s going on in your life?”. My therapist said that I’m like that in dating too.
Do you find therapy helps you with creativity?
I really do. I always feel a lot lighter after. About four or five months ago I had a [recording] session straight after a therapy session – straight away I started singing this thing, which I don’t think I would have come up with if I hadn’t just come straight from therapy. It definitely unlocks different pieces [of me].
The whole thing is just belief. I was just so persistent – I got dropped from one label, went to another label and sold myself 10 times harder. I just believed in my hype and I just had it in me that this was happening.
What would you say to younger creatives, trying to forge their own path in the industry?
I don’t really remember what it was like at the beginning, it’s all a bit of a blur. It just needed to happen. I had sleepless nights where my bank account was minus, and I didn’t know if I’d be able to afford the tube to my session – I was in a constant panic. But the whole thing is just belief. I was just so persistent – I got dropped from one label, went to another label and sold myself 10 times harder. I just believed in my hype and I just had it in me that this was happening. I was at the right time – where women’s sport was just on the up, and I was writing songs for people, which gave me more credibility. It’s about finding a USP and getting a bit of weight behind you. You’ve just got to believe that you’re great. I still feel like I’m getting better and haven’t written the best music I can write. It’s not easy. There’s gatekeepers everywhere who are afraid that you’re going to come and take their place. Just be better.
You can keep up with Chelcee’s new music on Instagram @chelceegrimes





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