The Artist: Nico
Nico was born Christa Päffgen in Cologne, Germany. Before she was Nico, she was a fashion model, a Fellini actress and a Warhol superstar - the icy beauty with the heavy fringe who sang on The Velvet Underground & Nico.
But Desertshore is years after all that.
By 1970, she’d turned away from the spotlight, swapping Manhattan art parties for harmonium drones and scorched-earth poetry. Her voice - once ornamental - had become something elemental. She no longer sang like she wanted to be heard. She sang like she had to be.
Produced by John Cale, Desertshore is the sound of exile. No longer part of a scene. No longer trying to be. Just one woman, one instrument and a deep, unflinching glare into the void.
The Record: Desertshore (1970)
Janitor of Lunacy begins the descent - minimal, mournful and already beyond rescue.
From there, things only get more beautiful and brutal.
The Falconer reads like medieval scripture, slow and ceremonial - the harmonium a kind of ritual gravity.
My Only Child might be the closest she comes to tenderness - but it’s still cold, unforgiving.
And then there’s Afraid, where Cale’s piano emerges through the gloom. It’s devastating.
Her voice doesn’t plead. It pronounces.
And behind it, no drums, no texture, no escape - just drone, ache and an overwhelming sense of consequence.
This is what happens when you reject commercialism completely.
This is what’s left when you strip everything away.
Play Now:
🔊 Spotify | Apple Music | YouTube
Start With:
- Janitor of Lunacy - A minimalist spell
- Afraid - Sadness, stark and shivering
- The Falconer - Mythic, frozen, forever
🛒 Buy the Vinyl:
• Domino (or summon it by chanting into a dark mirror)