The official story is that
Billie Holiday lived
a sad life. She was abused and

grew up to abuse alcohol and drugs
as part of her escape. She peaked, then
crumbled, then died broke and

losing her voice and
all well before the age of 50.
But Billie used every interview

to point out she’d had a hell of a
life – she’d gone from nothing
to being one of the queens of jazz.

She had any man she could and many
women too – she loved drinking and
taking drugs. And had a very good

time. And the self-destructive streak
was a switch somebody else triggered.
But she owned it all. Never apologising.

She sang her heart out and burst open
her soul. But we need to remember her
as something tragic. Something sad.

It was tragic. And it was sad. But we
have this White Knight guilt when
we remember the story of Lady Day.

She wanted to go out with a bang.
And she did. She loved her life and
her songs and the music lingers longer

than anything else she might ever
have offered. Her voice all celebration
and heartbreak.

Her soul broken before
she had even started. It’s a triumph she
even made it; gave life a fair fist.