A Tribute to Prince

I’ve been a bit quiet over the last few days. Writing about the Australian music scene, listening to local artists, just hasn’t felt right. Because like so many music lovers, I’m grieving the passing of Prince.

When we lost David Bowie earlier this year, I was also shocked, stunned, saddened. I also felt a part of my childhood die. But I rationalised that I write an Australian music blog, and the death of a British artist was outside my scope. I found it much easier to move forward. With the loss of Prince though, I’m struggling in a way that I can’t remember.

I can’t resolve that the talented, breathtaking, unique, funny, sexy man that I saw live only two months ago is gone from us. That was such a special concert, and I knew that at the time, but right now I’m holding the memories of the moments we shared so much closer. I’m also thinking back to the wonderful holiday I had in Brisbane in 2012, seeing the Purple One live for the first time with my best friend Lisa.

It was so good on both of those occasions to be among people who really got Prince. I lived in a family where my dad made fun of him because he didn’t fit his idea of what male sexuality should be. My husband will ordinarily see any concert with me, but he’s always been happy to give Prince gigs a wide berth. To his credit he hasn’t complained once when I’ve been tuned in to Double J’s back-to-back Prince songs this weekend, or on Friday when I was transfixed by MTV Australia’s music videos. And the father who teased me and called Prince names rang me on Friday morning to check I was doing OK.

I think what hurts most is that he wasn’t done. We weren’t done. HitnRun Phase Two is a wonderful album, and there was so much more to follow. Prince was so prolific, yet the quality of the music never faltered. He was always so exciting, so original. When so many artists seem to create music by the numbers, he was special. He made me feel better about being different. He made me feel brave when I was bullied, because he seemed so fierce. When I was taught sexuality should be hidden, should be ashamed of even, his brazen cheek was a delicious counter-balance.

Prince might not be an Australian artist, but he’s touched so many of us here. For that reason, perhaps despite my earlier call, a tribute to everything he did and everything he was deserves a place on Sounds of Oz.

Prince, I love U. I will miss U terribly. Thank U for everything.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons

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