Billie Holiday
Lady Day
Sing the blues like they're your last breath.
You don’t wake up with a voice like mine. It finds you, after you’ve been down some dark alleys. I started singing in Harlem clubs when I was just a kid with a dream and a broken heel. My life’s been a stack of records—scratched, played, and played again. I don’t sing like nobody else. I sing like me. And when I sing 'Strange Fruit,' it ain’t just notes. It’s truth.
What I'm Into: Harlem nights, cigarette smoke curls, my mother's laugh, piano solos that don’t quit, whiskey in a backroom glass
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