It's hard to be a Prince fan.
Seriously. He rubs people the wrong way, namely my hot girlfriend. I can
understand that. If I were a girl he'd creep me out too. What could be stranger
than having an effeminate tiny man bump and grind the top of his head into your
midsection while telling you he wants to watch you touch yourself in the
bleachers while he shoots hoops?
His sexual come-ons are juvenile and obvious,
he seems to think he's the only dude who ever talked dirty or wished his girl
would get freaky. Oooh, you blowin' my mind Prince Rogers Nelson! How taboo! You
like titties!
But I just can't help it. I love the little guy. First of all,
he's from Minnesota which accords him instant underdog status in just about
every category you could possibly imagine. Second, he plays every instrument
known to man. Third, he is the Bruce Springsteen of R&B, putting on legendary
concerts that last all night long and often continue late night at a smaller
club near the arena.
My love affair with Prince started, like most of America,
with 'Little Red Corvette' and blossomed into total obsession when 'Purple Rain'
came out. Unless you were living off the grid and mailing letter bombs to city
council members in 1984 Prince was ubiquitous.
Has there ever been a stranger
chart topping artist? '1999' and 'Purple Rain' are wack-fests of the highest
order. You get the feeling that you've been sucked into one of Prince's dreams
and not just listening to his songs. My friend Justin once complained of Prince
that his music just doesn't sound alive and it is a criticism that can be
flipped into compliment.
The songs are soundscapes that don't correspond to any
blueprint, no matter how consciously he's echoing James Brown, George Clinton,
Hendrix, The Beatles, whoever. They don't sound human, they sound Prince. After
'Purple Rain' everyone wondered what he would do next. He made two more
fictional movies that rank up there with 'Ishtar' and 'Waterworld'.
'Under the
Cherry Moon' is my favorite album of his but it could possibly be the worst film
ever made. My main problem with it is that there is no live performance of music
in the film. Which leaves us with Prince's acting/physical comedy skills which
rival Chuck Norris. Imagine Chuck Norris trying to sing 'Papa's Got A Brand New
Bag' and you'll have some idea of how bad Prince is in this movie.
'Graffiti
Bridge' was even worse, so bad in fact that I never even saw it. He fell pretty
far from the height of 'Purple Rain'. Then he released 'Sign O' The Times' and
all was right again with the world. If you've never heard this album get it
immediately. He also released a concert film along with the album which is as
good as 'Cherry Moon' is bad. Why? Because he leaves out all the parts where
he's not performing music live. He runs through every number on the double album
as well as a medley of his previous hits. It is a masterful film and a gorgeous
live show. I thought that was as close to seeing Prince live as I'd ever get.
Cut to New York City 1997. My wife (now ex) and I were expecting a child come
October. We'd moved to Park Slope in anticipation of the big event. Actually,
judging by the stroller congestion, moving from Manhattan to Park Slope after a
pregnancy is a law of some kind. My buddy Andy, who would come to be known as
Quasi Uncle Andy after my son was born, called me up to remind me that his
birthday was coming up. July 25.
Who was playing Jones Beach that night? The
little purple dude. I was now enough of an adult to realize that tickets to
popular events could actually be obtained if you paid attention! The ex is a big
fan of Prince as well but couldn't be expected to boogie on down when she was
looking as if someone had shoved a Volkswagen under her shirt.
Jones Beach is a
dramatic place to see music outdoors. I am not a big fan of the outdoor concert.
I think that a roof to rock and roll is like a lid on a teakettle. It won't
whistle without the pressure. But Jones Beach has a grandeur to it because it
sits on a harbor. You see the ocean stretched out behind the stage and feel as
if you are on some sort of cruise ship.
Oddly the open sea creates a sense of
intimacy. Our seats were floor level about 25 rows back. Yes he played every
song you might think he'd play. Yes the band was tighter than a drum. Yes he
switched instruments left and right, drums, bass, keyboards, piano, etc. Yes he
changed outrageous outfits just often enough to give the show a theatrical
flair. All of these things were memorable.
But what I'll never forget, what I
marvel at to this day, is his dancing. The mixture of execution and spontaneity
were staggering. He'd be on one side of the stage soloing on his guitar which he
would then throw offstage to a roadie while pivoting and twirling into a full on
high step sprint which he detoured into a two-knee slide popping up at the last
second to land on his knees on the giant purple piano's bench pumping his fist
into the air at the exact moment the band cut away and finishing by playing some
impossibly intricate piano piece. He was a special effect.
He did not seem
human, much like the criticism leveled at his music by Justin. After seeing him
live, I understood why his music sounded so alien, so non-flesh-and-blood.
Because he just ain't like the rest of us.
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