The city that never sleeps. NY.
I miss it terribly
I keep coming across pictures of Grace Jones on my Tumblr feed and they keep sparking memories of when I coached her for a short stint. Grace was in Miami working with Island Records. The label paired her with two young turks who were the techno geniuses of the time as producers. She was quite unhappy with them for they had no idea who she was. Crazy I know, not to mention pretty uneducated.
I offered to work with her at the studio, which was housed in The Marlin Hotel, but she chose to come to me. I met with her for a couple of weeks and was always astounded by her outfits. One time, she actually wore jumper cables as a belt and pulled it off beautifully.
Her range was that of a tenor more so than a contralto. She had a resounding C3. It was a strong voice with immaculate pitch. She just wanted to warm up and exercise her voice. We never got to the material she was recording. I knew something was up. It was obvious she was not getting along with the production team by the tidbits she would throw out in conversation. Soon enough, there was a message left on my voice mail. It was from her personally and I kept it for a short while because it was kind of surreal to hear her deep voice with the unmistakable Jamaican accent saying, “…aah Rita…I’m going to have to cancel today’s session…”
She took advantage of having to leave Miami due to a hurricane that was threatening to make landfall and swiftly severed ties with the project. I never saw her again.