Prince died and a whole lot of folks lost their shit. It puzzles me. Causes me to make strange faces and forces me to do a whole lot of tongue biting as well as heavy editing on my FB newsfeed.
I didn’t like Prince’s material but that isn’t relevant. I didn’t understand people losing their shit when Bowie passed, when Lemmy passed or years ago, when Bonham died. John Lennon, George Harrison. Okay, yeah…they died and at the precise moment of their death? A child died, somewhere in the world, a mother, a husband, also died.
I didn’t know Bowie or Bonham; never met Lemmy or Lennon; listened to their music but I probably wouldn’t have recognized them in real life. I didn’t know their favourite colour or their shoe size. Never spoke to them. They never came to dinner or popped in for a coffee. Didn’t text with them or e-mail.
I’m a music lover. I cannot go a day without listening to music so it isn’t that I don’t respect good artistic endeavours but that doesn’t mean that I go all “fan mad” over an artist.
2016 has seen a few artists pass away; well yeah – they are of that age. Boomers. We are going to start dropping.
What the hell? Are people going to lose their minds every time one of the artistic community, of the Boomer generation kaks?
Are there songs that speak to me, on some deep level. Of course, there are but it is the song, the words, not the artist. The songs don’t give me some kind of magical connection to the artist. Among my family and friends, it is common knowledge that I am an Ozzy fan. I, certainly, do not believe that I have some kind of soul-tie to the dude because he performs music that I enjoy. I am listening to the “Sounds of Silence”, the Disturbed interpretation and one that I prefer to the original; I identify with the lyrics and I love the depth of the melody. I like the song. I like the band and their various offerings; they don’t have an effect on my day to day living. They don’t hug me after a rough day, or bring me roses at work. They don’t pay my bills or clean my home.
Prince is dead. Same age as me, actually. IMO, 57 is a little young to die but by the same token, my grandmother died at 55. My grandfather was all of 26. To learn of a child dying, of someone losing their life due to war or famine – that impacts me on a far deeper level.
I open my newsfeed to all sorts of wailing over Prince’s demise – come on. He was a singer, songwriter, and entertainer. He didn’t cure cancer. He didn’t walk on freaking water. He sang and made a good living at it far more money than say, a member of the Médecins Sans Frontières.
Just one more aspect of human nature that boggles my mind. One more thing to cause me to make funny faces at my computer monitor.