Prince

I doubt I will write much over the following few weeks. I am fatigued through simply coping with grief, it is the third anniversary of Ruby's death in two weeks. In addition I am very concerned about a friend who has cancer and is undergoing aggressive chemotherapy. 

I have also been affected by the death of Prince, my favourite musician throughout my life and the only celebrity I have cried about when he died a few days ago. He was the first musician I ever really loved, he was always playing on the stereo through my formative years, he was there through my first kiss, my first girlfriend (and every one since), when I was a spotty, fat, bullied teenager he was the one musician who let me know I was right. I was right even though I felt weird and sometimes disconnected and an outsider. He wasn't androgynous, he didn't have a brand of studied playfulness around gender and sexual stereotypes like many other musicians but instead he was introspective in his exploration and was encouraging others to do the same. I understood this. He gave me permission to appreciate boundaries as being arbitrary and showed that borders always need pressure for positive change. He sang about AIDS and safe-sex when I was starting relationships, he sang about hip-hop, the Internet, the destructive drugs of the day and the impotence of international politicians compared to the extraordinary energy and love between normal people, worldwide, irrespective of supposed differences. He sang about pure and simple fun. He stood for many things that I stand for- he wanted to be funky, to be silly, to be supportive and loving and to be kind to everyone, friends and strangers alike. Prince was there when I needed to feel seductive, when I had a broken heart, when I felt alone, when I was happy too. 

I have played Prince to help me through my grief as Ruby was also a fan. She and I would play "Raspberry Beret" driving the car, singing as loud as we could. We would dance in the kitchen to "Housequake" or "Kiss", perfectly funky pop classics. 

I am thinking about Prince for hours each day, I am revisiting his music, I have been watching his films and documentaries on TV, I have been talking and talking about him to my wife, my friends, my work colleagues. I am, in truth, grieving for him. Slightly. But genuinely. 

The deepest reason I am sad though is that his death has made me aware that there will never be another musician in my life who will mean as much as him. No other musician will ever be able to say the things he said at the times he said it.

Musically, my life is only travelling downhill from here and any pleasure I get from music from now on will be for reasons other than a deep personal connection. 

This is my Elvis or Lennon moment, the events that hugely affect the generation above me (although I was only four years old when Elvis died I remember my mum being very upset- she still talks affectionately about him and always will). But at least I can say I was alive at a time when Prince was on Earth with the same pride as when Mozart was here or Jimi Hendrix or Miles Davis. 

And I have the music and the memories.