The year seemed to murder pop stars like a mafia bullet spree. It mowed one down and then another and then another. One by one, the heroes of our youth shuffled off this mortal coil and it seemed unfathomable that we continued to live in a world without David Bowie, without Prince, without George Michael.
We think – no. It must be a joke. And I suddenly understand why the idea bubbled up of Elvis Presley being seen around the world – not dead – alive and in secret. It’s like, people couldn’t imagine a world without Elvis in it – so they imagined him alive – but underground – under cover – in disguise. That’s a world we could live in, a world where our pop heroes COULD come again – even if they were under wraps. We dream that it’s a hoax and that Prince will stage a surprise resurrection concert in a secret underground cave. That world would a better one to live in. That’s the one I’ll imagine.
