I am writing this on press day. Walking to work through Hyde Park this morning, I received a text message from my friend Brooke that simply said: ‘Michael Jackson is dead.’

And part of me is still in shock I think – or disbelief. Music is such a vital part of my life, and when one of the cornerstones of modern music passes away, everything is thrown out of kilter. Think John Lennon. Kurt Cobain. Jeff Buckley. Freddie Mercury. James Brown. And now Michael Jackson.

He was the King of Pop – the man who not only revolutionised music, but dance and music videos. His influence is almost unparalleled. And of course it was profoundly tragic when his overwhelming talents began to be eclipsed by his peculiar public behaviour, disturbing physical transformation, and allegations of child abuse.

Jackson lived as a veritable hermit following his 2005 acquittal on charges including child molestation – the trial was, evidently, a blow from which he never recovered.

And, for all the innuendo and speculation, we will never understand what it was like to walk in his shoes every day. If he turned out a little crazy in the end, the world in which he was forced to live must shoulder some of the blame.

But now is the time to focus on what mattered, and the legacy he leaves in his wake. And that is damn fine music. Without him in it, the world is somehow less beautiful and wondrous.

So rest in peace, MJ. Enjoy the real stars.