Another thing I was introduced to one magical teenage weekend in Chicago by my friend Bill. Tricky had certainly made the rounds of Bill's fancy pants art high school (think Fame, with more stage actors and less spandex) but he was not even a blip on the Cheyenne Mountain map.
Of course I brought Maxinquaye (named after his mom – a little weird considering it's mostly about oral sex and oppression) back with me and and all my friends developed crushes on the Bristol-born bad boy. His laid back whisper and straight forward sexual lyrics “I am she who stinks of me , Gritted teeth, fists are clutching, Breast stroke, lots of touching “; “Can I take off your clothes, Before we go out, And when you're helpless, I'll scream and shout , We finish everyday, Well, anyway, Sixty-nine degrees, My head's between her knees.” were more than enough to knock a full grown woman out–we young high school girls were helpless.
I've recently been relistening to his breakout album and wonder why we've not heard much from him since. But he is apparently opening for Tool and had a couple other albums come out, so he's still busy, just less flashy about it. Regardless of his fading star, he's a lovely man and it's no wonder Bjork had a fling with him.