I woke up, and then I remembered... Lots of people sent me messages yesterday, and I have yet to respond to everyone. Most said "You're the first person I thought of." I still can't really process. I cried all morning, yesterday. I cried in the shower at the gym. I cried on the phone with Dax, I cried this morning. I feel like I have nothing deservedly eloquent to say. Thanks to my friends for thinking of me. Thank you Prince for your brilliant licentiousness, and being the model musician, your black and whiteness, your radical gender performance, your psychedelic drum machines, your Minneapolis synth-horns, your 'flamboyant pimp' fantasies and general sense of humor, your unrepentant faggotry, the chicken scratch rhythm guitar playing that continues to confound me, your in-the pocket drumming, your otherworldly bass playing, the seduction ballads, all those 80's 'alone in the studio with my unvarnished genius' boutique jams, your transcendent falsetto, your multiple hot-as-shit bands, for consistently having women in your hot-as-shit bands, your James Brown worship, your Sly Stone worship, your loving study of Joni Mitchell, your ability to pull off imaginative/ridiculous clothing, for the times you acknowledged me in the real world, for making me understand that there was a better place than the backwards shithole of my racist/homophobic hometown of Duluth Minnesota, and that place was a multiracial electro-funk utopia called Minneapolis which I fled to by myself when I was 15. Thank you my love. I will never stop loving you...
