Diva Laydee Lisa

Long before social media turned every backstage moment into something to post, Laydee Lisa was already moving through the rooms where music was being made, promoted, argued over, celebrated and remembered.

Diva Laydee Lisa came up through a world where hip-hop was still young enough to feel dangerous and new. De La Soul were part of that world, not yet names frozen into music history but people standing beside her, laughing, working, living through the same moment. Plug Won and Trugoy became part of the memories she carried with her, and years later she could still look back at them with the excitement of someone who never stopped being a fan of the music even after she had been close enough to see how it was made.

Then came Prince.

Working in Prince’s orbit meant stepping into a world that never seemed to stand still. Musicians came through, ideas changed shape, shows became events, and the New Power Generation became more than a band name. It was a network of people, friendships, personalities and shared history. Lisa became part of that world, and the photographs she kept were pieces of a life being lived inside it.

The years kept moving. There was Julian Lennon, remembered with the kind of affection that made Lisa call him a hero. There was Gwen Stefani, caught in another chapter of music when the sound, fashion and personalities of the late 1990s were changing again. There was Pharrell, representing yet another generation moving hip-hop and pop forward. Lisa seemed to keep arriving at the next chapter without throwing away the previous one.

She could carry Prince with her and still be excited about somebody new. She could remember the early days of hip-hop and then watch that culture grow old enough to celebrate fifty years. She could look at photographs from decades earlier and still talk about the people in them with warmth rather than treating them like trophies.

Prince’s world never completely disappeared from her life either. The New Power Generation remained part of the story. When the NPG returned to celebrate Prince’s music, Lisa was still looking toward that family and wondering who she would see again. The years had changed the circumstances, but they had not erased the connection.

And time did what time eventually does. Some of the people from those earlier chapters were no longer there. When Magoo died, Lisa remembered him. When hip-hop reached its fiftieth anniversary, she celebrated the culture around him and so many others. The music she had watched grow up was now old enough to have history, anniversaries and losses of its own.

But Lisa kept listening. She never seemed to graduate out of loving music. She could work around Prince and still call another musician her hero. She could have stories most people would spend a lifetime trying to collect and still sound like somebody who was simply happy she had been there.

And somewhere during all of that, her path crossed with Felicity.

Felicity was living a very different life in Geelong, but she had the same habit of reaching toward people. She followed musicians, chefs, television personalities and performers because she genuinely enjoyed what they did. Lisa and Felicity found each other in that world of music, conversation and people.

Then one day Lisa did something Felicity never asked her to do. Felicity had trouble regulating her body temperature. Fresh ice helped her enormously, but the ice machine at home had stopped working. I could make ice, but I could never make enough quickly enough when she needed it. Lisa learned about it and helped Felicity replace it. There was no request. She simply did it.

The new machine went into our home and became part of Felicity’s everyday life. When she was uncomfortable, there was fresh ice waiting. Something Lisa did in one moment kept helping Felicity again and again long after the conversation that started it was over.

That ice machine is still here. I have it now. Felicity is gone, but that machine is still part of our home and part of the story. Every time I think about where it came from, Lisa is there too.

So the journey that began around musicians, studios, Prince, the NPG, hip-hop, Julian Lennon, Gwen Stefani, Pharrell and all those changing eras eventually reached a little house in Geelong and helped make one woman more comfortable.

Not backstage. Not underneath somebody famous on a marquee. At home. With Felicity.

Diva Laydee Lisa — music, memory, kindness and #respect.

Lisa travelled through decades of music, watched artists become legends, watched whole musical movements grow up, kept the people she loved in her memories and kept finding new people to admire. And somewhere along the way, she was kind to my wife.

I joke that I want to stay so busy thanking the people I owe that I do not have enough time left to think about the other people. LOL. So now another piece of that journey becomes music.

Diva Laydee Lisa. Her name this time. Her song. Her signal. #respect

Now you've heard both songs and travelled through Lisa's story, I want to know what you think. Which version of “Diva Laydee Lisa” was your favorite? Tell me in the comments below, give this post a star review, and be part of the Signal. #respect