Prince and the Soundtrack of My Life

"We're gathered here today,

To get through this thing called life..."

---Prince

 

Prince was a musical genius.  Like him or not, it is hard to deny that he was something special.  He could play the hell out of a piano and was one of the best guitar players of his generation.  Listen to him in the clip below and tell me he wasn't a wizard.

 

 

But losing a talent like that at a relatively young age isn't why I find myself feeling his loss so much; though that in and of itself is tremendously sad.

 

Prince carried me through a large swath of my youth.  His death carried with it the death of part of my past. 1999 came out when I was in high school.  Cruising North Shore beaches with my friends, senior dances and trips to Fenway Park were all soundtracked by "1999", "Little Red Corvette" and "Delirious". 

 

In college, Purple Rain stepped in and picked up where 1999 left off.  The week I moved into my dorm at American University in the summer of '84 to start a summer internship in Congress was the same week "When Doves Cry" hit number one.  The week I went back to Colby College for my sophomore year is when it was finally toppled.  That summer was one of the greatest on record and Prince's Purple Rain, along with Springsteen's Born in the USA, provided the music. 

 

Purple Rain was part of the soundtrack of my college years.  Parties, road trips and even the romance of my friend Dave and his wife were all soundtracked by Purple Rain.  I still know every word to every song on that album. 

 

As I write, Heather and I are watching the movie Purple Rain on MTV.  No, it wasn't a classic, but it means a lot to me.  While the music and live segments are tremendous, the fact that I watched it with my closest friends at the time in a dorm lounge on laser disc is what is special. It was also shot in and around Minneapolis - a fact that meant nothing to me then but means a whole lot to me now.

 

Friendships have come and gone.  Hell, friends have literally come and gone: two of my best friends, one from the 1999 years and one from the Purple Rain years are in heaven to greet Prince and I find myself mourning fresh again for them both.  Both young men lived the soundtrack with me.  And like Prince, they are gone.

 

These songs and this music is part of the soundtrack that is my life.  Music is woven into me like a tapestry.  I can't play a note.  I can't carry a tune in a bucket.  However, I have music in my head nearly all the time. Songs take me to a time and place very vividly, much like smells do to most people. 

 

The music and the memories of course remain but they are now different, inexorably altered by recent events.  Prince's passing has taken a part of my youth with it and I mourn for them deeply.