Thursday, August 30, 2012

Prince: An Appreciation (2004)






     I went to see the Prince Musicology 2004Ever tour at the Fleet Center other night.  It was a good show.  I’d give it a solid “B.”  For me, none of these past peak performers who used to put on a dazzling show can ever truly match the intensity, creativity and sheer newness of an “A” performance in their prime.  That’s one of the few benefits of taking the early rock star death.  Neither critics nor fans need watch you deteriorate before their eyes.


     I’m happy I went.  The show was hyped for months.  The tabloids screamed, “Prince regains his mantle.”  “His best CD in 10 years.”  “The only show of the summer to sell-out everywhere.”  Prince had become a media darling again.  I decided to go after reading an email interview with him in the Boston Herald.  I was happy he said, “In truth, as a people, we have 2 get back 2 God. In ALL things.” I brought tickets to “a nearly sold out show” on the second day of a three-night stand in Boston.  Although my date and I managed to move into the second row of the balcony, there weren’t many empty seats at the Fleet.
     I had seen Prince live three times before: the “1999” tour at the Boston Garden, Purple Rain at the Long Island Coliseum (by time this stoned head got around to buying tickets for the Boston Purple Rain tour the teeny boppers had snatched them all up).  And I was at the famous 1986 surprise show at the Metro.  I dug him after the second album, Prince, but was captured by his third release, Dirty Mind.  I felt like he was a manifestation of my own muse.  He was speaking directly to me and my people.  I rode the crest through Purple Rain and hung in there for a few more CDs before giving up on him.
     There is a real bittersweetness in watching an artist you love move into superstardom.  I was happy that more people were giving him recognition.  That he was being rewarded financially for his gifts.  That if a lot of people are really digging him maybe you aren’t so far out after all.  And, of course, there is the pleasure of being prescient enough to see the diamond in the rough.  But, the downside is strong as well.  I saw the teenyboppers, middle-agers and generally unhip start coming around because the mainstream press pushes the album or movie.  And every magazine from Ebony to People is putting your boy on the cover trying to cash in.
     Even though Prince had played big venues on the 1999 tour when the Purple Rain tour hit town in 1995, it felt like my family had suddenly adopted a bunch of nerdy fosterkids and now I had trouble getting to the table for my food.  There was strength in numbers, but I questioned these new folks’ commitment to the vision.  What was that vision again?
     He reminded us of a bit of the vision the other night.  He chanted, “People call me rude.  I wish we all were nude.  I wish there was no black or white, I wish there were no rules.”  In case that was a little unclear, he also played “Dance, Music, Sex, Romance” which is perhaps the most succinct verbalization of the vision.  Despite, or because of all the sexual imagery, Prince was the preeminent 80s party guy.  Along with Rick James, who recently died of “natural causes” following years of chemical abuse, Prince was the supreme funkster of his time.  As he started to slide in the 90s he spelled it out for all those too dense to get it.  “My name is Prince and I am funky.”  It was almost as sad as the middle-aged ladies wearing t-shirts to the Musicology show claiming they were “True Funk Soldiers.”  As if a true funk soldier would need to buy a $30 t-shirt to tell you that.
     The funky music was always there, but in the early days it took a backseat to the sex.  That was the thing, of course, that put him over the top.  Maybe because he was still in his post-adolescence when he tasted industry success, he captured a horny gestalt with abandon and innocence.  The girls loved him because he was cute and always had boudoir ballads on his disks as well as get up and dance jams.  The guys loved him because he spoke what was on our mind, maybe nowhere better than “Dirty Mind.”  And he did it with a creative sense of humor and a funky downbeat.
     But, with Prince, you also got something else.  You got a mysterious, spiritual connection.  From chanting the Lord’s Prayer on Controversy, to the psychedelic mushrooms on the cover of 1999, to the “Love God” graffiti in Purple Rain, there was always a devotional element to Princes music.  And with a dearth of interviews, he left the heads to interpret it however suited us.
     Despite the blatant sexual hedonism, I always felt Prince was a spiritual artist.  Given what has gone down in recent years, I feel vindicated in that assessment.  From early on he captured my fascination with both sex and God.  I didn’t want to give up either and he was clearly exploring and praising both in his music.  Although the sex was more in the face, the God piece could be discerned if one looked for it.  That’s how God is.
     I hung in with him for a few more once a year albums after Purple Rain.  I even went to see “Under the Cherry Moon” multiple times (once on mushrooms, although I don’t recommend it).  I even saw Graffiti Bridge in a theatre – and stayed to the end.
     I remember when I finally broke ranks with his Purple Badness.  At the end of “Around the World in a Day” he captures a conversation in the studio between him and God in the song, “Temptation.”  God takes Prince to task for the same things Tipper Gore had earlier, his overt obsession with sexuality.  Prince struggles with his Creator on the track.  Initially screaming, “Nooo!” at his punishment, death.  Then seemingly reborn reports, “Now I understand.  Love is more important than sex . . . I’ll be good.  I promise.”
     It’s a conversation few megastars could pull off straight-faced, but then the boy from Minneapolis was always, ah, different.  The singles from the LP, Raspberry Beret and Kiss, both received substantial radio play and made money.  But Temptation wasn’t intended for mass consumption.  He was sending a message to the true believer that he was finally growing up.  The creative tension between his adolescent horniness and the mature artist sensibility had finally been resolved and, well, the artist had won.  But any addict will tell you that relapse is a part of recovery and it didn’t take long for the musical sex addiction to reassert itself.
     Neither had my life remained stagnant during all those album releases.  By now I had found my own spiritual path.  My personal connection to the Most High deepened, as did my boredom with the general sameness of the Minneapolis sound over the years.  The life of Prince and my own life had shared several interests and parallels over the years, but around 1990 we began to grow apart.  I was married with children and the attraction I used to focus on Prince’s life I now dedicated to saints who took a more direct approach toward Love and God.
     And, just as I gave Prince credit for gaining some sexual maturity, the Black Album fiasco occurred.  According to the rumor mill Prince was working on this new collection of songs that he pulled before release because they were too negative.  Supposedly the lyrics were too salacious even for him.  A bootleg copy of very poor musical quality came into my possession around this time.  It was a major seller by bootleg standards.  For me, it wasn’t even worth the bother of listening to seriously.  I considered the entire album a very broken, very public promise to, not only me, but more importantly to God.  I had had enough.
     That was about 1992.  In all the years since then when I heard of Prince it was like hearing about someone you used to love.  I was a little curious what he was up to and wished him well, but there was no passion, no desire to understand him.
     Then I heard he had become a Jehovah’s Witness.  I heard the news a couple of years ago, before it hit the major media.  A credible source at the periphery of his circle heard the rumor swirling around Minneapolis.  It seemed that Larry Graham of Graham Central Station fame had persuaded Prince into the Kingdom Hall.  Now, that was interesting!  Normally I’m not a fan of religions whose mission includes convincing you your religion is wrong, but this was too sweet.  Can you imagine Prince coming to your door with a Watchtower?  The irony of the purple pervert joining one of the must conservative cults (I use that term not in a derogatory way, but as a concentration of culture) in Christianity was just too good a story. 
     My love for Prince returned because true to form he had once again become creative, which is by definition producing some innovative and different.  It is hard to imagine something more different than the Prince we all knew becoming a Jehovah’s Witness.  If there was any doubt in my mind regarding the authenticity of this rumor it evaporated when I caught the man’s induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  In accepting his award from a gushing Alicia Keyes, he gave thanks to Jehovah.  I had seen Prince “thank God” at award ceremonies before and his change in language confirmed his conversion.
     Allow me to amplify the most peculiar popular music/religious irony of our time.  Michael Jackson starts his career as a Jehovah Witness youth with a clean cut image and ends up perceived as a sexual degenerate.  Prince starts his career as a perceived sexual degenerate and in middle age ends up a good guy Jehovah Witness.  What is it about this organization that attracts two of the highest caliber black, male superstars? 
     So, I decided to go to the show, not because Prince was promising to retire the old, sexy hits after this tour, neither was it because I enjoyed his new CD – I hadn’t heard it.  It wasn’t even to see “real musicians perform.”  I had seen that before.  The driving force in me dropping $100 for my wife and I to see the show was simply to pay respects to an old friend who resurrected himself from the ashes of mediocrity by once again making a bold move.  I really wanted to acknowledge that he had changed his life and I was happy for him.  I never doubted he could throw one of the baddest parties in town and he didn’t disappoint in that either. 
     By the way, Prince didn’t get where he was just being a kickass performer, the man is a brilliant marketer as well.  In his Herald interview, he talked about the record industry as we know it being obsolete.  I know ripping off talented artists has been a mainstay of the music business since before I was born.  I also understand changing his name to an unpronounceable glyph and writing slave on his face had to do with confronting his former label, Warner Brothers.  And in my book, any artist perceptive and powerful enough to kick corporate America in its teeth deserves applause.
     I bought each of the first 10 Prince albums when they were released (except for the first and second which I went back and bought after Dirty Mind left no doubt he was a genius).  I’ve already mentioned why after 1988’s Lovesexy, I hadn’t bought another CD by the Artist Who Was Formerly My Favorite Musical Performer.  Well, that was not true.  I inadvertently purchased Musicology when I bought my tickets to the show.  Prince, never shabby in the marketing department, scored a coup by selling a cardboard covered CD with every ticket.  With a successful tour, that ploy was enough to push the Musicology CD to the top of the Billboard charts over the summer.  Now, people like myself who would have never bought the CD ala carte, now own it as part of the entrée.
     And to be honest, I was curious to throw it in and see what all the excitement was about.  Alas, it’s not for me.  Some nice grooves to be sure, but when I want to hear Prince, I want to hear the old stuff.  The phrase “shadow of his former self” comes to mind.  But that shadow still has more musical substance and light than most people will ever manifest.  So, I’ll dip into the archives every once and awhile and treat myself to the emotional high I get from the first decade of his output.  And if you want two more copies of Musicology, you can have mine for shipping and handling. 


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