2016 — The year music died
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life…” — I can’t think of a better and more sobering lyric to turn to right now. It will be plastered everywhere soon enough. Life is peppered with ups and downs, deaths and births, guitars solos, and tears happy and sad. Today is one of those down times with sad purple tears.
While a lot of us, myself included, are still privately mourning the loss of the one and only David Bowie; we are dealt an unthinkable blow with the untimely death of the purple one, Prince Rogers Nelson. This is a truly tragic loss in the world of music and the realm of true artistry. Much like Bowie, I can’t readily think of a period of my life where Prince’s music was not a prevalent and omnipresent force. Music does weird things to us, it’s a holy church of true feelings for me and Prince was often leading sermons. His music not only provides an escape, a weird place, a forbidden and unknown sensual world, but it also helped me find my skinny white ass and shake it in rhythmic time.
I had the esteemed privilege of witnessing a Prince concert in Montreal with Tara and dearly close friends Andy and Stacy. It was a spur of the moment decision the day before the show. Stacy and I were so anxious and nervous we could barely leave the parking garage in one piece. Nervous wrecks and Andy and Tara were all cool as purple cucumbers. Ticket sales at the Molson Centre were not high enough to actually merit opening the poor people section we bought tickets for so we were comped down to the 100 level. We went from nosebleeds to the Holy-Crap-These-Are-Amazing-Seats-Section in under five minutes of being inside the venue. The show was the best concert I’ve ever seen. Anyone who has seen Prince will tell you that same thing. The performance, the energy, the fuzzy boots, the hits, the b-sides, the FOUR encores. He didn’t even touch a guitar until the fourth or fifth song (Pop Life) — everyone was literally pining for it, a deep yearning, and when he finally played it was absolute pandaemonium. He played 32 songs that night, not one era of his career untouched — covered The Cars, MJ, and Dylan too. We sang, we cheered like crazy people, we loved every second of it. Final encore was one of my longtime favorites — Controversy. We were all on a high for a week after that show. It was everything.
I could write about his music forever and I’m finding it difficult to focus the deluge of thoughts. So I just chose a few songs that line up with some pretty significant memories.
The one that blew my mind — ’Bambi’ off his self titled album Prince from 1979. This stadium rocker of a song sticks out like a sore thumb on an album of slick, groove based funk tunes. As ‘Bambi’ starts, it could be any other cock rock 70's schlock but takes a complete left turn with his falsetto and screech. His vocal adds a softer edge to the pounding shred of the lead guitar he’s beating an inch from its death. On only his second album he’s already found the truly fascinating dichotomy that he would showcase again and again; the power and the softer vocal. The power, the violence, the sexy groove. The falsetto vocal goes sky high into a wail, a plea. So does the final ripping solo that would make any guitarist blush. The solo leaves you wanting more, it feels like it could go on for another few minutes, but he so cruelly fades the track. The fire in this song is awe inspiring, especially so early in his career. Don’t sleep on this track, it’s utterly essential and lays the groundwork for so many future songs.
The one that saved my ass — ’Controversy’ off Controversy from 1981. For a quick hiccup in the early 00's, I DJ’d in public (at 135 Pearl) for (not a lot of) people, for (not a lot of) money. Truth be told, I was woefully disorganized and couldn’t keep my nerves in check. The last round at 135 was just ok. There were no awkward silences, accidental unpluggings, or needle skates, but I just wasn’t feeling good about it. I felt I was dying a slow death in front of a (small) audience who were more concerned with So-Co and lime shot than whatever it was I was spinning. I was trying to be too cool by playing !!! (Chk-Chk-Chk) or Gorillaz tracks no one wanted to dance to. Luckily I found a Daft Punk 12" of “Around the World” in a crate under the desk. I put that on and noticed people moving a bit including a nice lady in a leather bandana and matching gloves pounding her fist on the bar to the beat. Thankfully that tune is like six minutes so that gave me time to frantically flip through crates and my CDs (early 00's people). I settled on my copy of Prince’s Greatest Hits and B-Sides compilation discs and went with Controversy. Thankfully again, the song starts on a hard beat with no fade in so my job was minimal. The reaction was great and people continued dancing. It was fun while it lasted and I think about it sometimes when I play this tune.
The one that has so many separate experiences I can’t pick one — ’Purple Rain’ off Purple Rain from 1984. I’ve been trying to think of my first memory of this song and I can only think of a block of memories.
I can remember roller skating to this one and wondering why people would couple up and slow skate for such a sad song.
I can also remember my aunt renting the movie on beta when I was sleeping over at her apartment. I was forbidden to watch the movie but I’m nearly positive I convinced them because I do remember a topless Apolonia and this song.
I was hopelessly homesick when I visited Europe in middle school. It was my first time away from home for any length of time. I was in France and the only solace I could find during our free time was in book stores or music stores just because they were familiar. I’d flip through cd’s of artists I’d never heard of and through Clapton (big on him at the time) and Prince’s catalog. Not to buy anything but I just feel normal and to look at familiar things that reminded me of home. Later that trip, as our group was walking through a park just after dinner one night, a group of musicians were busking in front of a fountain. They had quite a crowd and started singing Purple Rain. My heart jumped and I instantly joined in and LOVED France.
I screamed like a irrational teenager next to my wife and friends when we witnessed Purple Rain live in concert. It was everything I had imagined. Purple lights, loud guitars, stadium of singing fans, and purple confetti raining down. I started grabbing the confetti and filling my pockets. I saved it. Still have it and I’d save it from a house fire.
The whole song is a goddamn ending. The song has made me overly emotional many times in my life including today.
The one I listen to constantly — ’l could never take the place of your man’ off Sign O The Times from 1987.
Repeat listens every time I listen and that still almost a daily occurrence. I would estimate that this one is my favorite. The groove is so solid, so tight, impossibly Prince. Like everything on that album, it tells a very vivid story. Vocals are on point and go up to his sweet spot where they meet a high harmony with Wendy and Lisa’s vocals. It’s a shame they didn’t work together much after this. The diamond in the song is the guitar of course — it’s so fierce, so fearless, so SHORT. The guitar track fades off into the abyss on the single and fades off into a slow jam on the LP version. He just leaves you wanting more.
The one that’ll make you cry — ’Sometimes it snows in April’ off Parade from 1986. It’s a shame that he didn’t keep writing with Wendy and Lisa. This song is just a perfect little gem that rings so very true this April as we all face the cold reality of a world without Prince. Just change the name of the song’s character from Christopher Tracy to Prince, it’ll be too much. I actually can’t listen to this one quite yet.
To say that I love Prince isn’t even close.
I Wish U Heaven,
MB
