Here some of our staff reflect on how the work of Prince impacted on their lives.

“Happiness is the memory I have of Prince. I was in my late teens and early twenties when he was in the peak of his popularity. Just as Bowie has dominated the 70s, Prince dominated the 80s – ever changing styles and sounds, but always with his fun, sexy, confident signature.

I was 19 when Sign o’ The Times was released in 1987. A bunch of my friends and I lived in a sharehouse in London, and we brought the record home to dissect it. The title track addressed the Aids epidemic, and there was an amazing video for that song that has always stayed with me. My favorite track at the time was ‘The Ballad of Dorothy Parker’ – because it was called Dorothy Parker and because it referenced Joni Mitchell’s song ‘Help Me’, from her 1974 album Court & Spark. Prince always made efforts to showcase talented women musicians and vocalists, such as Wendy Melvoin, Lisa Coleman and Sheila E, and their contributions to his band and albums were so important. I remember Prince’s amazing films – Purple Rain of course, and Under the Cherry Moon which starred the relatively unknown Kirsten Scott Thomas – and so many other wonderful moments from his career. One song I still love so much today is ‘Money Don’t Matter 2 Night’ from the 1992 album, Diamonds & Pearls.

Back in the 80s when I was discovering Prince for the first time I lived with a guy, Paul, who adopted Prince’s style for his own. Thank you Paul for the many great times and thank you Prince for the soundtrack.”

– Michael Awosoga-Samuel

“On a warm spring day in 1982 9-year-old me excitedly took my pocket money into the Readings on Lygon Street and bought Rocktrip ’82, one of the many named-by-their-year compilations churned out by record companies in those days. That day was significant for two reasons. First, I’d just bought my first record from a shop that in a future millennium would be my employer. And second, sandwiched on side one of the record, tucked between Tommy Tutone’s ‘Jenny’ and Charlene’s cringe-worthy mega-hit ‘I’ve Never Been to Me’, was some curly-haired dude named Prince. The song was ‘Controversy’, and it blew my little mind.

The man was no one-trick pony. He pretty much released an album a year throughout the 80s, albums of such high quality and astonishing variety that probably only Bowie’s output in the 70s is equal in terms of uninterrupted glory. He wrote big hits for other people. He danced like Astaire, played over a dozen instruments to virtuoso standard, and always looked beautiful. He paid no heed to accepted notions of genre, gender or colour. He was the consummate pop star. And, like Bowie, we thought he’d always be there, because he wasn’t of this world.

One of the first videos to do rounds of the internet in the wake of his passing was his breathtaking 2004 guitar solo on the Hall of Fame George Harrison tribute performance of ‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’. He appears mid-song as if from nowhere, effortlessly turns in one of the greatest guitar solos ever recorded – not even missing a chord when he falls off the stage – smirks at everyone because he knows he’s awesome, then throws his guitar up into a mysterious ether and casually strolls off. It’s the most rock star thing I’ve ever seen, and the Prince moment I will always remember.

In this most cruel of years for losing musical heroes, the fact Prince didn’t even live past middle age is perhaps the cruellest of all.”

– Kate O'Mara

“When I arrived at Readings about 18 months ago, I made a request that I wanted Prince’s music to be on high rotation in our warehouse’s daily playlists. I’ve always found that in the day-to-day social politics of workplace musical taste, Prince has been common ground. He brings people together.

My own first experience of Prince was a sensational compound of music and video: Cream. I was around four- or five-years-old and watching Video Hits or Rage when the video came on. I was immediately aware of his sexuality and physicality, and not understanding it entirely, it felt forbidden. I already knew Prince was too ‘sexy’ for me and I didn’t even know what that meant!

These days most often turn to Sign o’ the Times, which is a timeless album. Its titular track – possibly his greatest — still sounds like a kind of truth that we haven’t grasped yet, both musically and lyrically.

I love Prince’s legend and his legacy, his protection of his craft and integrity, his profligacy and fondness for purple and Joni Mitchell. Like so many others, I believed him immortal, and figured he’d make music until the age of at least 100. From his confluence of desire and taboo, to his macrocosmic musings on civilisation and slavery, he truly, physically, moved listeners. And although I don’t wish the use of lyrics to cheapen this tribute… Nothing compares, does it?”

– Jemima Bucknell