by Joseph Sarrington Smith
If you’d told me at the beginning of the year that both David Bowie and Prince would be dead by May, I wouldn’t have believed you. Bowie’s loss was immeasurable, and now so to is Prince’s. A creative genius who could play pretty much any instrument, often seen as a rival to Michael Jackson (even though they were both very different artists I think). He took a fresh look at pop music and blessed us with some of the catchiest tunes of the 20th century (1999, Little Red Corvette, Raspberry Beret, Purple Rain). If I could choose a favourite album, it would probably have to be Sign O’The Times.
He was also a brilliant guitarist. Seriously, the dude could shred like nobody’s business. He famously changed his name to a symbol and by all accounts he was very obsessed with sex. I even heard one story where he jerked off the top of his guitar, depositing a milky substance all over the audience… what a climax! (pun very much intended). Sure, the guy was eccentric, but that’s what kept him mysterious. He was a very private man, elusive right to the end.
Prince, Nothing Compares 2 U. RIP mate.