Tricky (Adrian Thaws, half Jamaican, one-quarter African, one-quarter Welsh, raised in the black ghetto), a member of the Wild Bunch in Bristol when they became the Massive Attack, was quick to ride the trip-hop wave. He made his mark with the single Aftermath, recorded in 1992 but released only in 1994, an unmatched apex of his liquid atmospheres, with a strong dub pulse, distant blues guitar riffs, and a jazz flute that collapses dramatically. Ponderosa, with its equatorial swamp rhythm, emphasized the dreamlike element of his music.
Maxinquaye (Island, 1995), however, seems like a hastily cobbled-together mess by an amateur, aiming to capitalize on the genre’s moment of popularity. Original ideas appear only in the more aggressive (i.e., less trip-hop) and shorter tracks, like Brand New You're Retro, which draw on hip hop traditions. Overcome epitomizes everything else: boring, soporific lullabies arranged minimally. The sinister spell of Abbaon Fat Track and the disco diva funk (featuring the then-underage Martina Topley-Bird) of Suffocated Love rest on little of substance. Otherwise, aside from the singles, the only truly interesting track on the album is Public Enemy’s Black Steel.

With the album credited to Nearly God (Island, 1996), Tricky quickly progresses on both fronts: melody and arrangement. While retaining the premise of music without drive or true harmonic foundation, Tricky discovers the importance of actually “singing” something, not just whispering empty words—perhaps stimulated by exceptional collaborators (including Bjork, Neneh Cherry, and Alison Moyet). At the same time, his sparse arrangements become sophisticated and classical enough to suggest a hypothetical chamber trip-hop program.
The funeral march of Poems is programmatic, not just of method but also of mood, truly nihilistic, underlying the songs. The arrangements are always implied, barely glimpsed. It is less music than suggestions of music. At times, one senses a postmodern program, a deconstruction of genres, as in the fragmented, drained gospel of Make A Change or the Rolling Stones-style rhythm and blues of Together Now. But Tricky’s operation pushes toward total fade-out, toward obliteration of any sign.
In this sense, his covers are exemplary. Tattoo by Siouxsee Sioux becomes a Schoenberg-style violin concerto with jazz double bass. (Judas and Black Coffee are the others.) Keep Your Mouth Shut is nothing more than a remix of Bjork’s You've Been Flirting Again (from Post).
When he allows himself long introspective monologues, Tricky invents a new genre of spoken music, almost theatrical solos. I Be The Prophet employs classical string accompaniment and dialogue with female vocals.
The album is, above all, a record of duets, some masterful (like Yoga, whispered with Bjork), others a bit predictable. Secondly, it is an album of sound effects. Thirdly, it is an album of personal confessions. If he reversed the order, it might have been a masterpiece.

Tricky learned an important lesson and puts it to work on Pre-Millennium Tension (Island, 1996), his second album (drawing material from the EP Presents Grassroots): either the melody, the arrangements, or the vocals—but at least one of the three must have something to say. The album is the work of a savvy professional, making full use of the recording studio and the instruments at his disposal.
On Vent, Tricky displays the full range of vocal moves of the great blues and soul performers, from B.B. King to Prince, over a backdrop of psychoanalytic nightmare dissonances; his hoarse toasting colors Christiansands, the half-whispered rosary on Piano reaches the nadir of his despair, and a solemn zombie-like recitation makes Ghetto Youth a chilling kammerspiel. These are lied immersed in a funereal, ultra-expressionist landscape of fractured sounds. Few exceptions break the rule: faint melodic chords make Makes Me Wanna Die (sung by Topley-Bird) his version of a sentimental ballad; a tight rhythm propels Sex Drive out of the album.
The staging prevails over the performer in a few cases: in Bad Things, with ambient fades, industrial noises, and blues guitars; in My Evil Is Strong, practically an avant-garde concert for assorted dissonances and found sounds. Where the studio rat’s class shows is in small details amplified to a manic degree.
It is also a more autobiographical album, more sincerely personal, more tied to his street experiences. The atmosphere is always dark, full of fear, anchored to primal survival instincts. The (unconvincing) philosopher of Maxinquaye has become a cursed loser in the best tradition of "noir" films.
Now Tricky’s mission seems at least a little clearer. On one side is the chronicler of the moral miseries of British ghettos; on the other, the prophet of a new musical genre, starting from stylized (sterilized?) hip hop and a purified (castrated?) form of house music. In these roles, Tricky demonstrates familiarity both with the history of rhythm and blues and with reggae. The unifying element is the voice—technically and emotionally weak, but Tricky transforms this very weakness into an artistic statement. His hoarse whisper is, in fact, the one voice Prince never used.
Once again, however, the best tracks are the covers (Bad Dream and Lyrics Of Fury), and perhaps that is no coincidence.

The darkest album of his career, Angels With Dirty Faces (Island, 1998), features the usual parade of guest stars and an even broader stylistic spectrum, ranging from ambient to hard rock, from blues (Mellow) to gospel (Broken Homes), staging increasingly anguished monologues about the urban wasteland (particularly targeting gangs, guns, and the music business), with Money Greedy and Record Companies standing out. This gives him the opportunity to showcase his talent—very “white” and little “black”—in the postmodernist deconstruction of classic genres.
For the most part, however, Tricky drifts through the psychoanalytic labyrinth of lazy, sensual, slippery, and sly music, in songs like Analyze Me and especially Carriage For Two, culminating in the psychedelic, dreamlike abyss of Talk To Me. Tricky aspires to become the Tom Waits of trip hop, the hyper-realistic storyteller and refined arranger capable of unifying private stream-of-consciousness with public history.
The true hero of this record is drummer Perry Melius, a rhythmic hurricane who transforms every song into a pyrotechnic funk party. He is the one who cages the songs in that claustrophobic atmosphere. He is the one who gives meaning to the unsteady voice on 6 Minutes and The Moment I Feared. Once, bluesmen duetted with guitars, but rappers have learned to duet with rhythms.
It is difficult to rate albums so empty of content, so unlistenable, and at the same time so perfectly in step with the times.

Tricky' annoying lyrics and clumsy productions obfuscate whatever merits could be found on Juxtapose (Island, 1999), a short, 32-minute, 9-track album that left behind Angels' paranoia. I Like The Girls, Born Born Diggy (riff taken straight from Fugazi's Waiting Room) and She Said are no worse than so much of what he has done before, but luck won't always be on his side.

The EP Mission Accomplished (Epitaph, 2000) marks a shocking shift in the direction of hard-rock and blues-rock, as if Jimi Hendrix met Peter Gabriel and Lee Perry and maybe the Beastie Boys.

One day Costello stopped making music and started making muzak. Maybe Tricky just decided to follow him down that path. Blowback (Hollywood, 2001) is a collection of songs, more or less regular songs, enhanced by an endless list of famous guests: Alanis Morissette for Excess, John Frusciante for Girls, Cyndi Lauper for Five Days, etc. All tracks have their bright spots, and not only because of the guesting star. Evolution Revolution Love, Bury The Evidence and You Don't Wanna (that mimicks Eurythmics' Sweet Dreams) are formally impeccable, but certainly not too original. At least, Something In The Way dares experiment with trip-hop. The history of rock music is full of intellectual acts that one day turned to the song format and deconstructed/reconstructed it (think Ambitious Lovers and Golden Palominos). It takes more than a bunch of famous guests.

Vulnerable (Anti, 2003) is an uninspired divertissment, that surrounds a few catchy numbers (Dear God, Antimatter) and a few chill-out numbers (Car Crash) with amateurish filler.

The same critics who hailed the dismal Blowback and Vulnerable as masterpieces hailed Knowle West Boy (Domino, 2008) as a return to form when in fact it merely marked a return to the mediocrity of Maxinquaye (the uptempo, ska-infected Council Estate being the positive side, Puppy Toy being the negative side with its lame imitation of Barry Adamson's lounge music). The set runs the gamut from rock to trip-hop, but it's all dejavu, and not pretty at all.

On her own, Martina Topley-Bird launched a solo career with confused and derivative collections such as Quixotic (2003), Anything (2004) and The Blue God (2007).

Tricky continued to badly disappoint on Mixed Race (2010), a confusing collection devoid of highlights, on False Idols (2013), on Adrian Thaws (2014), Skilled Mechanics (2016), Ununiform (2017), Fall to Pieces (2020), When It's Going Wrong (2023), a collaboration with Polish singer• MartaZlakowska, the mini-album Fifteen Days (2024), which documents a collaboration with Mike Theis and guest vocalists.