So I had an almost finished track with a beautiful title and no ending.
Years went by and, one day, I came across a newspaper article about a French writer, named Albertine Sarrazin (another way of spelling sarrasin). The article was a review of her most famous novel, L’Astragale, inspired in facts of her own life.
Albertine’s story was both moving and terrible. A life in perpetual danger. Abused as a child, a prostitute and bank robber in her teens, escaped from jail… and, at the same time, with an unquenchable thirst for literature and art.
After living so dangerously she found a relative peace with her literary success, but died from complications after surgery. She was only 29.
The book has a preface by Patti Smith, and just that preface justifies buying the book. One can vividly imagine Patti’s loneliness in the Brooklyn of the first 70’s, vagabonding the streets, choosing between buying a cheap lunch o spending her little money on a book (L’Astragale), and feeling so identified with that French writer that had died so little ago.
Sarrazin lived her life at such a fast pace and everything ended up so abruptly. I felt like writing an end of the track in contrast with the beginning, with resemblances of the past, peaceful and unsettling at the same time, both requiem and hommage.