london (1994)

De: Cérebro.
Para: Coração.
Prezado, faça-me o favor de não se entregar ao primeiro sorriso lindo que lhe encantar, pois quando esta pessoa for embora caberá a mim juntar todos seus cacos. Francamente? Já estou cansado de tanto trabalho.
—  O menino que roubava sonhos.

On this day in music history: April 18, 1995 - “Maxinquaye”, the debut album by Tricky is released. Produced by Tricky and Mark Saunders, it is recorded at Tricky’s home studio, Loveshack and Eastcote Studios, Notting Hill, London from Early 1994 - Early 1995. Formerly a member of the Bristol, UK sound system Massive Attack, Tricky (birth name Adrian Nicholas Matthews Thaws) strikes out on his own, with his then girlfriend Martina Topley-Bird singing most of the vocals. The albums’ title is a contraction of “Maxine Quaye”, the name of Tricky’s late mother who committed suicide when he was only four years old. The songs are a mix of live instrumentation and sampling, creating unique sonic soundscapes. It spins off two singles in the US (five in the UK) including the albums centerpiece, a cover of Public Enemy’s “Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos” (with the abbreviated title “Black Steel”). The album proves to be highly influential, and is regarded as a landmark release in the Trip Hop/Electronica genre. “Maxinquaye” peaks at number three on the UK album chart and number eighty four on the Billboard Top 200.

Today in Prince history 4/30

1990 - Prince previewed his upcoming “Nude Tour” in Minneapolis. The proceeds went to the family of his former bodyguard, Charles “Big Chick” Huntsberry. Huntsberry had died on April 2 of heart failure. 

1994 - Prince’s “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World” hit #3 in the U.S. 

1994 - In London, England, the NPG Store opened. 

2001 - The Jill Jones album “Two” was released. 

Chapter 26 Part 3

Author’s Note: an extra long Easter treat, given the long time since I’ve posted last. And here we go…NSFW my dear readers…there is one more part after this one, which will deal with the emotional aftermath of this part’s events.

January 10, 1994

London, England

Jimmy slowly opened his eyes, pulled out of his slumber by the throbbing in his head, lingering behind his reddened eyes. Groaning, he reached over, intending to wake Ari to go get him something to dull the pain of his aching hangover, only to find his bed cold and empty. Fuck, his heart sank, wondering if she’d gone back to her flat or worse, to someone else’s flat. Serves you right, you know, getting sick all over her and making a damned bloody fool of yourself, he recalled in disgust. You promised that was in the past. 

The house was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of the bustle of the London morning. He reached over, switching on an antique lamp that provided just enough light to see in the room darkened by the heavy velvet curtains blanketing his sanctuary from the outside world. It was then that he noticed the glass of water, the bottle of aspirin, and the toast with jam (strawberry, his favourite) sitting on his bedside table. He swallowed a few aspirin with the water, finishing the toast, cold yet soothing to his long empty stomach. Sighing, he fell back into his pillows, wishing that she were there to comfort him back to sleep. Where have you gone, my lady?

Keep reading

I Write to You

I write to you

but fire

leaps out of the stone of my heart

and destroys the paper.

I write to you

but water

wells up from the rocks of my eyes

and dissolves the paper.

Should I, then, write

with the red lines of my tears

on my parchment cheeks?

Or rather

give the grey ashes into the wind’s hands

to carry them to your porch?

After a while


you will hear my voice

in the dried-up leaves

in autumnal dusk


you will read my words

on a peacock’s tail

sparkling on summer lawns.

They are always there:

in the poppies’ sleep

in a toad’s golden eyes

in a kitten’s fur.

     Why do we need words

     to tell the endless tale

     of Beauty and Love?

 - Annemarie Schimmel, Nightingales Under the Snow, (Khaniqahi Nimatullahi Publications, London and New York, 1994), pg 18.