I miss Prince and his Purpleness. I miss his guitar genius. I miss his gorgeous face, and his creativity. When he covered a song, he Covered the Song in capital letters. I heard this existed, but couldn’t find it for the longest time, so when I came across this today, I had to share it. It combines the best song off my favorite Radiohead album, Pablo Honey, (note, favorite, not saying it is the Best, it is just nostalgic for me…), with a cracking Prince guitar solo. It made me supremely content. It gave me joy.
How the heck does Prince end up scoring his own drugs in a parking lot and end up with Fentanyl tainted dope, then pass away without anyone realizing he had OD’d! How! Surely he had an entourage, surely he had people who dealt with people, and made sure he had the best shit available. Surely what he ended up with that night was not usual for him. There must be drug dealers to the stars that make sure the likes of Prince don’t end up with tainted dope. I know, I know…he cooked it up, he did the shot, but come on now! How did it happen. Heck, I would have been happy to be Prince’s dope tester at various points in my life. I would take one for Team Purple.
This is the sparkliest most glittery, delicate, fragile version of this song I have ever heard, even if hearing Prince declare himself to be a creep is a little dissonant. He is gorgeous and everyone male and female adores him, and he knows it! This is creep lit as a candle in a helium balloon and set off into a dark starless sky. This is creep in amber. This is pure crystalized heroin filtered cotton wool cloud creepiness. It is gorgeous. It is perfect. It exists in a moment, never to be recreated, and all I can do is be happy and grateful that someone had the presence of mind to record it. That guitar tone! He makes his red stratocaster sing and talk and beg and shimmer. His voice is perfection, clarity and grace. He was utterly perfect as only Prince had the ability to be, plus this is the best use of a white diamante jumpsuit since Elvis socked it to ’em in Vegas.
Utter perfection. Bliss. Heavenly creepishdom. I wish I was special…so fucking special…but I am just a wierdo…just a creep….
Some endings are not storybook…though they should’ve of been.
Prince deserved so much better. He is not given anywhere close to the kudos he should be given. Prolific, inventive, talented, technically brilliant, charismatic. Prince was dynamite. It still makes me so very sad.