On Nina Simone

September 21, 2005

It started with a liking for jazz, and namedropping, and 150 pesos spent on a tape more than half a decade ago. There weren’t enough lingering love songs to hold my attention. I felt dated, worn, like Miss Simone is as distant as any stellar entity.

Then came my own star, speaking to me, telling me how she liked Miss Simone. Since she sat in French classes, and it was rather unsurprising for literati’s to dig her, I understood. She did sing that Ne Me Quitte Pas ditty, right? I remember asking her what it meant, but was never blessed with a reply.

Do not leave me. I guess.

I leapt at the chance to get a three-cd collection of Miss Simone’s songs for cheap. Now I finally had Sugar in My Bowl. I gave my love a copy, and its always delightful whenever she hums the songs loudly over the phone.

Now, immensely disconnected, and somehow on the brink of life-senselessness, I would’ve likely added a pin to my brain-cushion why I even had second thoughts buying a Nina Simone concert on DVD. Yes, I first saw that Jeff Buckley one first, but it shouldn’t cloud my excitement in seeing Miss Simone’s 1985 performance.

She floats elegantly near my ears. I didn’t even hear the snapping of my existence.