I was really hoping it was just a hoax. Now it appears to be real. How can you be gone? Do you have any idea what your music did to
me? How much it moved me?
I have the most vivid memory, a collection of them actually,
of my 14 to 17-year-old self, night after night, lying in bed in the dark
listening to the Purple Rain soundtrack.
It was our time alone together. I
never met you, but you were speaking to me alone. There was The Beautiful Ones, my favorite,
which simultaneously made me weep and turned me on. Purple Rain and When Doves Cry. Physically, you did things to my body without
ever having touched me. How on earth did
you do that? How did you incite such
intense, frenzied feelings of lust and loss, things I was too young to have
experienced yet? Your shrieks and
screams were like a wild animal, but at the same time, gave voice to the human
experience. As an artist, you were the
real deal. Everything about you was
androgynous and strange, yet still aggressively masculine. You didn’t need a loud voice or even size to
convey your power. It emanated in
tsunami waves. I can’t believe how much
I miss you already.
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