Remembering Prince

It’s impossible to contemplate recording these words on a blank screen, almost as if doing so makes it real—“Prince is dead”—but it has to be done. Not that he won’t be remembered as one of the greatest entertainers whether I write those words or not. But to me he was everything. Like so many others, music has been my constant, and sometimes only, refuge. There are many great artists, but Prince is (was) Prince. There are no others.

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Prince was able to cut through daily anxieties, depression and drudgery. His genius, his often frustrating mercurial ways, his wicked sense of humor, his astonishing versatility… his music was from another world that inhabited his singularly gifted mind. Prince was first and foremost an escape. A purveyor of joy. Not just to me, but to millions of fans and admirers who are now in the same state of stunned disbelief. We all mourn together, just as we all love and loved together.

After all, Prince was indestructible. At 57 he looked 20 years younger. He took care of himself. He famously disparaged drugs and cigarettes. He was the consummate workaholic, whether on stage—touring constantly—or in the studio, where he was a relentless wizard, a musical machine that seemed to be driven by an irresistible compulsion to create. And create he did, endlessly. Much of his recorded work remains unreleased.

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But oh, what he did release! Read more: http://www.popmatters.com...ng-prince/