The Collab

Terrell Kingston couldn't help wondering what he had gotten himself into.

It had been four weeks since the executives at Roppongi Records had been approached by Elisa Donahue with the idea of teaming with Terrell on a collaborative album. Elisa was nervous that Roppongi wouldn't go for the idea, but they were immediately receptive. Terrell, on the other hand, wasn't entirely sold.

Zachary Oshima, the powerful and charismatic head of Roppongi, held several meetings with Terrell to convince him to work with Elisa. "You don't see the possibilities?" Zachary exclaimed, jumping around his Manhattan office with the energy of a 13-year-old in a 53-year-old's body. "It's funk meets folk! It's hip-hop meets dreampop! It will be revolutionary! And..." Zachary suddenly calmed down and placed a firm hand on Terrell's shoulder. "If this becomes as big as I think it could be, no one will ever call you just an 'urban' artist again."

Terrell sighed. "Look, man, I don't know. This is, like...a bad idea that you're trying to make sound like a good idea."

"No, no. This is a great idea that only sounds like a good idea!"

--

On the flight back to Atlanta, Terrell debated whether to say yes to the idea. A part of him wondered if Zachary was just trying to use him to make Elisa a star in the States: the word around Roppongi was that Zachary had gone on vacation in Australia, heard a couple of Elisa's songs on Triple J, immediately became infatuated with the 23-year-old singer's voice, and signed her to a record deal as soon as possible. A few college stations had played her music in the States, but she was otherwise a complete unknown.

Terrell tried listening to a few of her songs. It wasn't his style of music at all--it was dark and introspective indie rock, with lyrics about scorned girlfriends, rough childhoods, arrogant politicians and the plight of First Nations people in Australia. He read a review of her latest album, "Absence of Grace," on the Daily Telegraph website; the paper called her lyrics "angry, militant, man-loathing feminism." Wait a minute, Terrell thought to himself. I make party music, dance music, music to make love to. How the hell is this going to work out?

Yet he knew Zachary had a point: the music industry still saw him as an "urban" artist. He was now 29 years old, with four albums and a decade's worth of tours behind him, and he still hadn't shaken that label; he didn't want to be trapped in that box forever. Working with someone who was the opposite of "urban" might turn out to be an important step in his career.

Once Terrell arrived at his condo in Buckhead, he called Zachary.

"How soon can she come over?"

__

Three days later, Elisa arrived at his condo just after midnight. Terrell had expected her to be severely jet-lagged after flying for the better part of 28 hours from Adelaide, but she had plenty of energy, and greeted him with a big smile.

Terrell had braced himself for the dour, troubled woman he had seen on the cover of "Absence of Grace," but this a different lady with the same name--high on life and full of vigor, with long, silky reddish-blonde hair that fell to her waist, bright blue eyes and very soft pale skin. Terrell felt a strong and immediate connection with her; he was shocked by how quickly she turned him on.

"So I had a couple of ideas I wanted to run by you," she said, handing him a notebook that he quickly grabbed to hide his hardening cock. "It's not fully fleshed out, but I hope these can work as a starting point."

Terrell read through the notebook and was stunned silent by the raunchiness of Elisa's lyrics. He had anticipated that she might like to write some deep romantic songs with him, but this was far beyond just romantic, with graphic descriptions of how she wanted to be licked and sucked and fucked. The lyrics described BDSM, threesomes, foursomes, voyeurism, sex toys--she had even written a song entitled "Tongue in Cheek," about her fondness for rimming.

"Holy shit!" remarked Terrell. "You're not--uh...you're not known for this sort of stuff."

"That's why I wanted to work with you," Elisa replied. "They might not buy it coming from me, but if I'm singing it with the guy who wrote 'Get Your Mouth on It,' people might give it a fair go."

Terrell laughed. "Don't you think it might be...you know...too much for some of your fans? I mean, your songs aren't usually about getting fucked."

"Look..." Elisa moved closer to him, and he was stunned anew by her beauty. "I know my fans, OK? Almost all of them are young women...yeah, the occasional guy, but mostly young women. Yes, they want equality. Yes, they don't want to have to deal with creepy guys when they're out at night. Yes, they don't want to be mistreated in their relationships. Yes, they want Parliament to listen to them. That's all true. But you know what they also want? Unless they're not into guys, do you know what they also want?"

"What's that?"

"They want the stick," she whispered, "and they want it good!"

--

"The Stick" was actually considered as a title for the album, before Terrell and Elisa settled on "Black Diamond/White Pearl." The album was largely recorded at Electric Lady Studios in New York and Studios 301 in suburban Sydney; the engineers and studio staff all noted how well Terrell and Elisa worked together, as well as how noticeably aroused Terrell became whenever Elisa showed up in one of her increasingly tight outfits.

After the recording sessions ended, the two singers traveled to Los Angeles to shoot the album cover with photographer Raymond Vox. It was Elisa's idea to appear topless on the cover, her breasts hidden by Terrell's arm as he stood bare-chested behind her. "Oh, wow," Raymond remarked as Terrell stood behind Elisa, his large, muscular and very dark frame contrasting with her smaller body and milky complexion. "This is going to be incredible!"

Raymond took nearly 100 photos before he finally shot what he believed to be the perfect one. Terrell and Elisa agreed. "I'm so glad we're done," she smiled, playfully touching Terrell's shoulder. "You just spent the last hour poking the shit out of me!"

__

"Black Diamond/White Pearl" wasn't the massive worldwide hit Roppongi Records had expected; sales in the United States, the United Kingdom and Australia were merely OK, though the album did noticeably strong business in Germany, Sweden and the Netherlands. Most reviewers found the album too weird, too experimental, too explicit. The tabloids did find it a bit odd that Terrell and Elisa were spending so much time together, since it reminded the public of the album's tepid commercial and critical reception. Rather than tour behind the album, Terrell and Elisa decided that it might be best to continue their careers separately.

Several weeks later, Terrell had just woken up when he received a call. It was Elisa, dialing him from Adelaide.

"Hi," said a groggy Terrell. "Is everything OK?"

"Yes, for me, and I hope so for you too!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I was in the bathroom just now and I came up with an idea--I think we should make another album together."

"Really?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Elisa, looking back at the bathroom sink from the hallway. "The only thing is, this time, all the songs have to be nursery rhymes and lullabies!"