weep weep. PRINCE

‘What a loss…’

‘SPEECHLESS’

‘absolutely crushed’

And, like a pack of cards, we folded into social media with devastating words of mourning. The purple man had been confirmed: No Longer.

I was part of that pack of cards.   Honestly, it felt weird to think that (our) Prince had left our lives.

But, by the time I woke up the next morning – despite Absolute Radio emotively blaring out Sign O’ the Times – I was a little concerned at my sense of loss. Yes, I saw him in concert, yes I obsessed  over his every word, tune and high-heeled boot… but because I didn’t actually know him. At all.

What I have now worked out is that feeling of loss is called nostalgia. And I was heavily indulging in that nostalgic mood. Diamonds and Pearls isn’t just a song. There are properly personal images (in my very own image bank) which go with that sound track. For example, those ridiculous teenage parties where we were all growing up and becoming us. Larking when we should have been sleeping. Making those unsuitably brilliant friends. Being young.

And the point is that Prince’s passing is reminding us all (that is, if you too feel this way, ) of what we are now no longer. His tunes were such a huge part of our lives back then that the only way we can mourn him is to mourn our past. He had symbolised for us hope, emotion, escapism, friendships and probably so much more.

Some say that a sudden death announcement can remind you of your own mortality. But that’s not the point here. It’s about a universal human connection via music to a moment in time. You see, that time has passed but that doesn’t mean we don’t still want to be that girl/boy dancing around their best friend’s living room singing your heart out… at 4am. And that’s what we’re really saying goodbye to.