Even with the strangeness and the tragedy, Klaus Nomi's life and music were so unique, so full of underlying joy and optimism, it seems wrong to end these posts with his death in 1983 from AIDS. After all, that's not what I think of when Nomi comes to mind, or when I listen to that almost inhuman voice.
More than anything, I think of a man on a stage, doing what he loved most, in just the way that he wanted, and having the time of his life.
Klaus Nomi should be remembered for what he did and how he lived, not for how he died. And if there's one lesson I take away from Nomi's life, it's to be the person you really are, whoever -- or whatever -- that might be. And to live life not just on your own terms, but as if there's no tomorrow.
I've lost sight of that more than once in my life, including very recently. And of all the people who have reminded me about this lesson I'd somehow forgotten, Nomi has been one of the most unique. And definitely the most unexpected.
Klaus would appreciate that, I think.
January 24, 1944 -- August 6, 1983