A Year With(out) SOPHIE

SOPHIE’s influence lives on all around us. It’s in the music she made; in the drips, crinkles, and shimmers she created in her electronic masterpieces, those bespoke sounds she willed into existence one sine wave at a time. It’s in the energy she shared in the spaces she performed, venues the world over, where we got to swim in the exuberant, unrelenting ecstasy of her art — even if just for a night. It’s in our veins, as queer and trans folks inspired by her work to realize truer layers of ourselves. She’s in our hearts, too, for reasons that hardly need rehashing here.

Last week, in commemoration of the one year anniversary of SOPHIE’s passing, we asked the readers of them. to share tributes to our beloved songstress. Written and visual submissions arrived from around the world, from folks of all ages and identities, all united by an abiding love for SOPHIE. Whether through watercolor paintings or vintage fan mail, homemade glass tears or a drag cover of “Immaterial,” your offerings were beautiful, deeply affirming, and reflected great care. They brought us as close to the producer as we’ve felt since before that terrible day last January. And so to everyone who submitted a picture, a performance, or just a memory — thank you. And to everyone else — reading this wherever you are, feeling however you’re feeling — we’re with you, in sadness and in love. In one way or another, we always will be.

I didn’t really like OIL OF EVERY PEARL’S UN-INSIDES the first time I heard it. It seemed like a bunch of loud noise, far too different from the fun, bubbly bangers on Product. But then again, how could I have liked it back then, when I was still so deeply in denial about my own transness.

When I came out this summer, I started listening to OIL again. A LOT. It felt like she knew me, knew what I was going through. Every song on the album felt like it was about me, about my journey. It was relieving; someone understands what it’s like.

During that time I gained so much strength and support from her music that when I decided to choose a new name for myself, the answer was clear: Sophia. (I had to change it a little bit — can’t have anyone calling me a copycat). I wanted this new name, this new chapter of my life to be just like SOPHIE — bold, fearless, kind, without a single care for rules or conventions. FREE.

Below is a watercolor on canvas painting I did recently in honor of SOPHIE and where her music transports me: spaces of haven, wonder, curiosity, ecstasy. She did it all, and every time those sonic waves she constructed blast out into this world, her spirit pierces and weaves through time and space.

I love and miss you dearly, SOPHIE, forever.

This is a screenshot of an email I sent to SOPHIE in 2017. Even though she never responded, sending it helped me realize things about myself I had never understood.

When I first came out as trans, SOPHIE’s album OIL OF EVERY PEARL’S UN-INSIDES was a huge inspiration and comfort. “Immaterial” reminded me of the joy of trans shape-shifting, as did “Faceshopping.” “It’s Okay to Cry” gave me permission to stay vulnerable and honest through my exploration and transition. I made this bracelet and wear it daily to remember her and her shimmering, lovely, view of the world, complete in its harmony and dissonance.

I miss her — I know everyone does —and I hope we comfort each other and keep her music alive.

When the news about SOPHIE’s untimely passing broke one year ago, I began to understand just how much she had been a part of my life without me even knowing it. I was astounded by the number of artists I admired who she had worked with throughout her career, let alone those who merely drew inspiration from her work. That's when I understood what a phenomenon her existence within the music scene was; more than an incomparable artist and producer, she was like a ripple, powerful beyond comprehension, whose motion affected everyone around her. In spite of having left the physical realm, her legacy is — just like her — immaterial. Her songs help us remain in touch with her mystique, genius and charisma. Her message and essence will live on forever.

Last year, I was doing my MFA in photography. One night, as I was working on my master project, I found an image of SOPHIE in a magazine. Since my project was about my relationship to magazine culture and queerness, I would cut out images to later use for collages, installations, etc… The next morning I heard the news about her sudden passing. Her image was still next to my bed. In that moment, I knew my artistic work needed to be as bold and brave as she was.

I dedicated the whole project to her. It is titled, "I GET SO LONELY, LIFE IN MAGAZINES" after a lyric in her song “OOH.”

SOPHIE changed pop forever, but more importantly, she changed us forever.

SOPHIE gave me a soundtrack for staring into the void of self-creation and the bravery to step forward. When the pandemic began, I started doing narrative writing and would listen to OIL OF EVERY PEARL’S UN-INSIDES while working. I don’t know that another musical artist has ever created work that so closely resembles how I see my own queer soul. I am still devastated by her loss and by the idea that I will never be able to thank her in person for what she has given me. There was a billboard of her where I used to work a very early morning job in the Silver Lake area of L.A. I gave her my thanks every morning as the light of the sunrise was just starting to hit her face. I like to imagine she could feel my gratitude.

SOPHIE was a visionary. A trans icon. An otherworldly being. We were blessed to have been graced by her work that rejected binaries and created new worlds for us as trans creatives. These images are a tribute to her song “It’s Okay to Cry.” In them, I’m wearing handmade glass tears by trans icon Grace Wardlaw. We miss you SOPHIE.

Sometimes I have this weird feeling, like I’m trapped by having a physical form. Sometimes, no matter how much I dress up, I still feel like just a brain in a suit. And as an ultra-femme bisexual woman, I suffer from imposter syndrome, too. I worry I don’t “look gay enough” for some people. I know I am, but I don’t always like showing it the way some want to see it. In “Immaterial,” I find solace. Here is a song that celebrates the idea that we aren’t just physical; that we exist outside what people can touch, or even see. That we’re immaterial!

I mourn her loss every day, and I celebrate the fact I and so many other people have been able to cherish her art.

Below is a memory of listening to SOPHIE’s song “MSMSMSM,” paired with a graphic I made.

When I was a freshman in college, I was still closeted about my sexuality. I remember slowly coming out of my shell when I would dance to SOPHIE’s music with my friends. I felt like I had been transported to another realm where we could feel completely free and happy. There was something about that sound she pioneered that spoke to something deep within me. Something that felt missing my entire life. To this day I still can't find the words to describe the euphoria I feel when I listen to her music, especially when I'm surrounded by other queer people and we're all singing in a language handcrafted just for us.

Her passing hit me harder than I ever would have thought. Her music was the soundtrack to so many good times in my life. When I found out she was gone, it felt like the foundation of music itself died. She was the future of music production and a trailblazer for queer and trans people. She was the blueprint, an icon, and now a legend; Sophie's sound will forever be embedded in the hyperpop lexicon, and I'm so lucky to have heard all the tracks she produced in this lifetime.

It's been a year since her passing, and I still miss her and hope she's partying on the other side.

Founders of Gal Pals, a queer club night centering women, trans, non-binary and gender non-conforming people, based in Brighton and London.

Last year, when we found out about SOPHIE's passing, we held a virtual livestream to honor her legacy and create a space for queer and trans people to celebrate her life together. This was such a special and meaningful night for us, where we celebrated our collective love of SOPHIE with queer people around the world. It made us feel a little bit less alone during the midst of a global pandemic, a third lockdown, and the tragic loss of one of our heroes. In particular, we had some incredible conversations with other trans people about what SOPHIE means to them, and how she influenced their gender journey. The entire livestream is available to listen on Mixcloud here. It's raw, and includes a speech by Xandice at 2:51:00.

In the spirit of healing, I made a scrappy acoustic cover of “Immaterial.” To me, the song’s message is important; basically, there’s no such thing as “real men,” or “real women.” It’s all up to us. That’s such a fun and freeing way of thinking about gender and transness – a limitless thing that you can continually evolve. A transformation that never ends.

Get the best of what's queer. Sign up for our weekly newsletter here.