I’m not sure if I’m—even still—ready to talk about when SOPHIE died. She was the mother of hyperpop, a pioneer of a kind of revolutionary, envelope-pushing production we only see about once a generation. Her movement was massive and prolific and real; as cultural as it was musical. Suddenly a woman was spearheading music production, and she wasn’t just dominating it—she was transforming the entire industry. Pop music became different; meme-y, experimental, exciting. Sharing her name was—and is—such an honor. 

I’ll say this simply: her death devastated me. In a male-dominated industry—and yes, it is absolutely male-dominated—SOPHIE was revelation. She was authentic to the very end. She was fearless, brilliant, chaotic, and unbelievably strong. I think I’m going to spend a long time grieving that loss. 

I’ve never produced a song before—I barely know how to hook up mics—but sitting in front of a laptop for hours recording each string loop, comping each rough vocal pass, and placing each drum sound felt like, in the smallest, most insignificant way, my gift to her. All the drums are SOPHIE samples; the beautiful words, chords, and message are hers. She says it so beautifully: “it’s okay to cry.” It’s okay to grieve at our limits, at our gender, at the unfairness of life and relationships and industries and mental illness. Her voice has, over the years, provided such comfort to me: “just know you’ve got nothing to hide; it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to cry.” I want to echo those words, now, to you.