The Last of the Triumvirate

Reluctantly writing about one of my all-time favorite artists

I heard about Prince and the last thing on my mind was writing something about him. His music meant too much to me.

I always have a Prince (or Prince Mob) Playlist on deck so I synced one up and headed off to do laundry. As I washed clothes, one of my closest brothers, Sayyed Munajj, iMessaged me and said, “I can’t wait to read your piece on him.”

“It’s gonna be a long one.”

“I’on’t know if I can write anything. That’s a lie. I’on’t know if I want to,” I replied.

We went back and forth about it then he said:

“He pulled us out of so many holes.”

And that was enough.

Because we bonded on our love of Prince’s music. And it wasn’t just Sayyed. Me & Sayyed formed many friendships around a mutual love for Prince. We came of age to his music…and that’s barely touching the surface.

I can’t, however, write about Prince without pointing out the other camps that existed when we came of age: the Rick James and MJ camps. Though Prince and Rick James had more in common, the three of them were young Black kids’ Beatles/Stones debate.

Before there was anyone else — there was Michael Jackson.

We sang “Dancing Machine” along with Michael Jackson with doorknobs as our microphones. My older brother (not I) imitated his dance moves. Those are my earliest memories.

But the Saga of the Triumvirate begins around 1978–9.

I was 7.

John Charles Merriweather was 9, same age as my older brother, Ade. He was well-known, popular. We were not. And he was at our apartment before school. He wanted to play with our (Star Wars) “action figures.”

We reluctantly presented our C3Pos and Chewies.

And he lit up a joint! Did I mention that John Charles Merriweather was 9?

It was my first time smelling weed. Certainly my first time seeing a child in my age bracket smoke anything.

So when I first heard “Mary Jane,” and Fontaine Swann slyly told me it was about weed, I felt like I was in on some giant secret, one that my mom didn’t even know about. (Stupid kid).

But that’s my first impression of Rick James.

Michael Jackson was in The Jacksons recording songs with them like “Blame it On the Boogie” and “Shake Your Body Down to the Ground,” songs that could have easily have been on Off The Wall, songs that no parent would disapprove of, and here was some dude singing about a drug…and they were playing it on the radio. That increased the cool factor by 2,000.

Of course we loved those Jackson’s songs, without a doubt. But this Rick James dude seemed like he could have been a guy from around The Holly or Dahlia, Park Hill’s version of every ghettos grown men hang out spot. And our thoughts about him being such would increase with each album.

I only went to Cub Scouts once. Once. Aside from hating it, we couldn’t afford it. When my mom was driving me back from my one and only Cub Scout meeting Magic 1510 played “I Wanna Be Your Lover,” my first time hearing it. If a song was good, historically, my mom would pull into the garage and we’d stay in the car until the song went off — this was such an occasion.

“That boy’s bad,” or something in that spectrum is what my mom said and we looked out for Prince as he lip-synched on American Bandstand and began appearing everywhere.

Prince’s next single, “Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad,” although not as popular (from what I can remember) as “I Wanna Be Your Lover,” it still was a damn good song to us — we were suckers for synthesizer and “Why…” gave us that. Plus, Prince tore into a guitar solo at the end of the song. We were fast fans.

That fandom, however, would take a backseat to the nova that was Off The Wall. If Mike had’ve never released another album after this, he would have been justified. For the first 27 of the 42 minute album, Quincy Jones and MJ don’t take their foot off the brake in what has to be the greatest album openings of all time.

Nothing could breath in that fire. Sure both Prince and Rick James released music in 1980 but I’m sorry, those were just filler songs for when I wasn’t listening to (or singing — gasp) a song from Off the Wall.

Unbeknownst to us, Rick James and Prince had a real-life rivalry in 79/80 when Prince had become a part of James’ Fire it Up Tour. It’s said that James sorely underestimated Prince due to his appearance but after a few shows of Prince performing a tight, six or seven song set, winning over the crowd, and mopping up the Stone City Band, Rick James had had enough.

Sadly, eight year old me wasn’t going to concerts. But again, wouldn’t have mattered anyway — there was Off The Wall to consume.

1981 was an entirely different ball game.

I don’t know if my mom bought Street Songs on the strength of “Give it to Me Baby” or not, but I remember studying that album cover wondering, “what the hell transpired here?” The front cover’s got leather-adorned Rick in them thigh-high red boots, leaning on a lamppost, guitar in hand. We vaguely see two women walking off in the background.

Then on the back cover, my man Rick is being harassed by an officer of the law, getting the ill pat down and it looks like the cop’s lined up the two women from above to be searched next. My tutor on all things street, Mr. Swann said, “probably pimpin’”

Pimping?!? Yeah, he definitely would have fit in at The Horizons.

Listen. This album had the aforementioned “Give it to Me Baby,” it had “Ghetto Life” (which is still one of my faves), it had “Fire & Desire” — the duet with Teena Marie…yo…and it had the Hammer hitmaker:

In a world where they didn’t show no Black people during video shows, Rick James’ “Super Freak” always got played — always. And the album, man, Street Songs went platinum in three months. This at a time where few Black artist “crossed over.”

It’s sad to see people only remembering Rick James for the Chapelle Show skits or as a one-hit wonder because by 1981–2, James was at the height of a three year streak where he was one of the preeminent Black artist, charting hit after hit.

In 1982, James had the Temptations saying they wanted the funk in “Standing on the Top.” Man, in 1983, he had a duet with Smoky Robinson, “Ebony Eyes.” I know Smoky was older, but James outblew the iconic Motown crooner on this joint. Rick James was large. But this isn’t a piece about overlooking Black genius…it’s not.

Rick’s light was slowly dimming. I can’t say that I ever checked for him after “17.”

But if there was ever a year where all three of these giants loomed large, I would have to go with 1981. For me, though, this is also where Prince became a permanent fixture in my life and a litmus test for all new friends.

Things were changing. Music was changing. But most importantly for this writing, I was changing. As 1981 spilled into 1982 and I hit double digits, I was more tuned in to videos than I was the radio. And as I mentioned in “Video Birthed The Rap Star”, Teletunes, MTV, & later Friday Night’s Night Tracks all had a veritable Black Out policy. Michael Jackson was above it. Rick James cracked that racist egg. And Prince…Prince played as much as any of the white people.

As the light of Rick James dimmed, Michael Jackson turned the nova of Off the Wall into the Super nova of Thriller…thing was, I wasn’t really on board for it. Yes, I liked “Billie Jean,” “Beat it” was cool, and I stayed up to watch the premiere of “Thriller” like every other breathing human being, but none of my songs (“P.Y.T.” or “Human Nature” or “Wanna be Starting Something ”) had videos.

It’s said that Michael Jackson’s popularity is what got MTV to play Prince. But I don’t know. I didn’t see MTV until 1984. Me & Isma’il Latif laughed at how we remember when Night Tracks would play a Prince video…almost always at around 1:05 am. But that didn’t happen until 1983. It was thus on Channel 12’s Sunday morning Teletunes that Prince began his silent takeover in the Triumvirate for me.

And these videos were pretty damn uniformed as far as presentation are concerned: smoke, light show, band, cheesy chyron effects, etc. People were experimenting with stories and locations and all of that…but not Prince. “Uptown” to “1999” — 1981 to 1983, we see very little change in presentation but we do see the look of Prince evolve.

He’s still a little rough looking in “Uptown.” Hair going this way and that, trench coat opened, no shirt, of course. By the time we get to little “Red Corvette,” in my opinion, we’ve got all the trappings of what will blow Prince out of the stratosphere. He’s got his purple popping. He’s got his ruffled shirt going. Then when he breaks out with that quick little dance move a minute or so into the song, we can see — it’s all there.

And that’s just the videos.

You see the thing about the music — in a time before Hip-Hop ruled — we still were looking for something different…but still funky. New Wave was the order of the day, as far as the video world was concerned. B52s “Private Idaho,” anything by Men at Work, anything by Depeche Mode, Yazoo, Talking Heads, you get my drift. And we grew to like these songs thanks to Teletunes. Aside from Talking Heads, none of these groups were intrinsically funky. Which is where Prince came in.

Here’s the thing. Prince’s Controversy would provide just that. First single — title track, “Controversy” — funky as hell, in an R&B vein, as well as the second single, “Let’s Work.” Third single was all R&B and it’s what made my mother ban us from Prince for some years. Yes, that third single is “Do Me Baby” which I need not explain. It was because of our friends at Teletunes that we became familiar with deeper album cuts like “Sexuality” which for my money does what every New Wave song only wishes it could do; mixes the heavy synth, with Rock, soul, and funk. The song starts with those synths, but when that bassline comes in followed by the guitar lick, you know this is something special.

I remember things by association: 1982; 5th Grade, Ms. Bratton’s class, John Riggins, The Blizzard of ’82, our first gaming unit — the Atari 2600, sold to us from someone in our church, Eddie Murphy’s breakout role in “48 Hours,” and the release of Prince’s 1999 and Michael Jackson’s Thriller within a month of each other…all of these things are what come to mind when I think of the Fall and Winter of 1982.

Despite 1999 & Thriller being released so close together, it was never really a competition.

Michael Jackson was the King of Pop. Thriller moved 40 million or so units. Everyone loved Michael Jackson. And I was learning, everyone did not love Prince.

Some people turned their noses up at the mention of the Minneapolis rocker. Others threw out, “he’s nasty,” and that was enough to dismiss any argument you had. But who could blame them. If you’re ten, and you found out that “D.M.S.R.” (one of my favorite early Prince songs) stood for Dance, Music, Sex, Romance, unless you’re cut from a different cloth, the Sex is enough to make you go, “ewwww.” Remember, this is 1982 we’re talking about.

Luckily, the sales weren’t dependent on if ten-year olds liked it or not, because 1999 became what “they” (white media) define as his “breakthrough” (read: crossover) album. “1999” and partying like it, became a catch-phrase (that holds to this day…17 years past the date). Did I mention that it was a double album? No? Well, it was. And packed with hits.

“Little Red Corvette,” “Automatic,” the hood favorite, “Lady Cab Driver,” “D.M.S.R.” “Delirious,” and “International Lover” all hail from 1999. If you were keeping track, that’s seven songs, enough to make a regular album overflow with hit after hit.

I was there for it all. My cassettes were littered with songs from 1999. And I didn’t really mind people not liking Prince. Kept him underground in my ten-year old logic. But it would never be like that again…or so it seemed.

Sometimes my memory is spot-on. I was thinking, “When Doves Cry,” came out a couple of weeks before me and Ade were off to New Jersey on May 31, 1984. Looked it up. Sure as shit. The song was released May 16, 1984 and the song was back, back, back, back, OUT OF THERE! “When Doves Cry” sold 2 million units, easily, and was instantly popular…and the video…

Finally, Prince was out of the concert hall and into numerous locations (one of which was a tub that we begged him to stay in). There were scenes from the soon to be released feature film, “Purple Rain,” which we eagerly anticipated and there was that performing, dancing, into a mirror bit where they start looking all Rorschach Ink Blot-like.

1984 was a great summer. It was when 12 year-old Sadiq, became Sadiq. Style became important to me. Curating was something that I did with my songs, clothes, drawings. And Prince was one of the few non-rap artists that made it through the onslaught of Hip-Hop that ruled the proverbial roost of my mind.

When Purple Rain came out that summer, everyone loved it. When I say everyone…I mean everyone. I didn’t know a soul that didn’t have that cassette or LP in heavy rotation. Album songs were heard in passing cars, either from their cassettes or by Power 99 which played more than just the singles, they played the B-Sides (I felt so cheated when I found out “17 Days” wasn’t on the album) and they played deep album cuts.

Then there was the movie. I didn’t see it in the Theaters, but somehow, through magic, my father had the film on VHS by winter time…that and Beat Street and between those two movies, we had to have watched them over 1,000 times…and that’s no exaggeration.

Surprisingly, Purple Rain wins that battle. Beat Street was a fast-forward extravaganza — all love scenes and family scenes were quickly past over, it’s a wonder we even know that movie at all. But Purple Rain…it was more than the Lake Minnetonka scene. We enjoyed the whole damn movie. From the Revolution/Time rivalry, the Prince/Apollonia love story, the Dad/Mom conflict, to the internal Revolution issues & The Revolution/Management issues…that’s a lot, but we loved every bit of it.

Outside of 48 Hours, Purple Rain was one of the first movies that I had almost memorized from head to toe.

Like I said, everyone was a fan of the album — not so the movie. That was the new litmus test for me. I’d be lying if I said seventh grade Sadiq didn’t use that as one of his must-haves for girlfriends and when I finally met someone that: loved Hip-Hop AND knew Prince albums beyond Purple Rain…AND loved the movie, I knew I had found my future wife. (Yes, that’s how 12 year old Sadiq thought).

But the military has strange ways of altering a child’s life. Barely two months into the relationship with my Hip-Hop/Prince loving girlfriend, we found out that my family was being stationed to Germany. This is when Purple Rain took on a darker meaning for me. The songs became odes to the girlfriend that I would soon be leaving and “Purple Rain” would make me tear up. When we finally did move to Kaiserslautern, I listened to the album for the first few months, but then it became too much.

I’ve watched the movie a gazillion times since then…but the album…32 years on and I can count on my hand how many times I’ve listened to it.

Oh, I got all Fs on my report card in Germany. I abhorred living there and my Dad got us on the first thing smoking back to Park Hill.

Back stateside was greeted by some new Prince action.

My brother Andre Law, first brother that I knew with a car, was also the first person that I knew with these singles, “Raspberry Beret,” and later “Pop Life.” We were older, more aware and because of this, we recorded more than just the hit. “She’s Always in My Hair” was on the flip side of “Raspberry…” and that later became my joint.

Prince was on a victory lap and everyone was screaming for a repeat of Purple Rain. That’s why for some people, the title “Raspberry Beret,” was funny — I remember people asking, “why not Purple Beret,” and pissing Prince all the way off.

Of course, we had a video for that which sounded nothing like the single that everyone knew. And Prince’s videos were now a separate thing unto themselves. I loved the video (we were in love with the woman in yellow — Kimberly Ann Delfin bka Popsicle — RIP — if you know the video, you know of what I speak), it had animation, people dancing in unison, and all that.

Not to mention, the songwriting was superb. It’s a straight story, told in that vein

I was working part-time in a five and dime

My boss was Mr. McGhee

He told me several times that he didn’t like my kind

cuz I was just too leisurely

Seems that I was busy doing something close to nothing

but different from the day before

That’s when I saw her, OOOH I saw her

She walked in through the out door, out door

This was a departure for the new, Purple Rain loving fans who just wanted M.O.S. (more of the same)and the original fans who were accustomed to the sex/scandal-inducing Prince. Because of that, there was a drop-off. I became more entrenched.

Joining me in that trench was my old friend, Aiyetoro KMT and he and I played “Pop Life” as if it were an album unto itself. We played that song on walks, car rides to the Aurora Mall, or long ass 44-bus trips to Montbello. And that’s just “Pop Life.” Around the World in a Day was completely different than all of his past albums as well.

You know how easy it would have been to open Around the World in a Day with the guitar solo that’s on the end of “Let’s Go Crazy”? You know how easy it would have been to just put it in a different key? That would have shut everybody up who said the album wasn’t half as powerful. I don’t want to make an album like the earlier ones. Wouldn’t it be cool to be able to put your albums back to back and not get bored, you dig? Prince, Rolling Stone Magazine, Sept. 12 1985

Couldn’t no album get me through the hell of the 8th grade though and I ain’t really listen to Around the World in a Day…or much of anything that year.

Thank Allah for social promotion, because He knows I would not have survived another year of 8th grade. I barely tried to pass and succeeded in keeping my string of ‘F’s’ going.

Before the year was out, songs from Parade began to trickle on to the airwaves and video shows, with “Kiss” being the lead off. I’m partial here as Parade is still one of my (if not THE) all time favorite of all of Prince’s recordings. I’m sure it’s due to the fact that it was a soundtrack for a film that took place in the South of France, but the wide variety of songs and how well they were sequenced kept me enthralled. And Alaor Khadir will tell you, this is my teaching module for the people who are unfamiliar with Prince.

Most people trucked with the singles…the hits, so people began professing love for Prince again. Talk to them in depth though and they would not know songs like “Do U Lie” or “I Wonder U.” Litmus test, I say.

And no one….I mean no one liked the movie. It was no Purple Rain. I’m not proficient in it but those first 40 or so minutes leading up to Prince performing “Girls and Boys” with the back-up of the original hype-man Jerome, setting the party off with their Earl Flynn-like dance, those first 40, I watched them enough to be close to memorization…close.

Parade was the soundtrack of the summer of 1986

You know how it is. Entering High School is a big deal. At least that’s how you’re made to feel. We grew up in the era of John Hughes’ films and were made to believe that in High School, all things are possible.

We were bussed by three High Schools all the way out to Thomas Jefferson and aside from the people that I caught the bus with (or who were bussed from Park Hill) I didn’t know anyone — having an older brother who went to the same school only helped marginally. 80% of my classes were AP classes so not only did I not know anyone, I was the only Black in the majority of my classes. Story of my life.

I think it’s up for debate. But we decided it had to be History where we first met. He was drawing and me with my friend-winning personality demanded he draw a character. I could tell he had skills but he was no writer. I asked him where he was from. Back and forth our non-convo went and this is how I first met Sayyed Munajj.

Over the next few weeks I learned that he wasn’t really versed in Hip-Hop — not an insult, by the way, very few people were in the fall of 1986. He was an artist like me, had a brother same age and grade as my older brother. Greater than all of that, Sayyed was a Prince fan to the same degree as me.

Just in case you didn’t get what that meant in fifteen minutes of reading, let me explain what that meant so we’re clear. Sayyed didn’t just know the hits — he knew album cuts. He knew the videos. And most important for our friendship and early bonding, Sayyed knew Purple Rain damn near word for word also! Not to mention he could also go pretty deep on Under The Cherry Moon — at least to “Girls and Boys” like myself.

“Sayyed doesn’t like it and I don’t like it either.”

“Nobody digs — -insert topic here — but yourself.”

“Wrecka Sto”

Our conversations were laced with Prince movie lines and between the both of us we sharpened up on all things Prince Rogers Nelson. I knew he played a lot of instruments, Sayyed knew he produced and recorded a lot of the songs by himself.

We both were into all the Prince affiliates: Vanity 6, Apollonia 6, Jesse Johnson, The Family, etc.

It was good to have found an ally. We united our older brothers, added on one of their older friends — we had a crew and that made Freshman & Sophomore years tolerable.

So — about those “holes…”

Although Sign O The Times was released our Freshman year, it carried through, resonating more than LoveSexy or Batman. It was Prince’s second double album and like the title, it was a sign of the times.

Our first two years of High School, for all intents and purposes, were full of innocence. Fights were with fists and a gang still was just slang for a lot.

But right after our older brothers graduated, gangs hit Denver. People who grew up together, some times actual relatives, now were in opposite gangs. Streets we used to safely ride our bicycles on became war zones.

Then crack hit.

In France, a skinny man died of a big disease with a little name

By chance his girlfriend came across a needle and soon she did the same

At home there are seventeen-year-old boys and their idea of fun

Is being in a gang called ‘The Disciples’

High on crack and totin’ a machine gun

Time

Those lyrics meant nothing my Freshman year. But the environment suddenly made each verse relevant. For us, that song was our version of “What’s Going On.”

Then there were girls…

You see, growing up when we did, the slow song was important. We had been rocking slow songs since I could remember. But by the time junior year hit, we turned our curation skills to making slow tapes…a tradition that carried over into college.

“If I Was Your Girlfriend,” a song that had Prince ask a woman to drop all her barriers and trust him like she would a girlfriend, immediately found it’s way on to those tapes. Me & Sayyed were inspired. Any hints in how to win over the opposite sex were welcome. Then there was “Adore.” I’m not even touching that. “Adore” is still by far one of the greatest slow songs ever committed to wax. “Adore” had us in the dictionary looking up the word to see if it were really a more apt description than love.

These slow tapes had us incorporating ballads from all of Prince’s albums. The emotions of the songs, like the social issues of “Sign o’ the Times,” finally meant something to us and Lovesexy only meant we were being supplied with “When 2 R in Love.” Batman gave us “Scandalous!”

Not that we didn’t like the uptempo songs, we did. Time was scarce though. “The Ballad of Dorothy Parker” & “Starfish & Coffee” were able to move in the rotation of classic Hip-Hop songs that were constantly coming out.

Kenny G was popular. Seriously. But we ain’t mess with him. Najee also made headway into the minds of the people with “Play it Najee” and the genre “smooth jazz” was born. The closest we got to any of that was Madhouse 8.

Being the Prince geeks that we were, when Sayyed found out that Prince made a jazz album he knew that was all the convincing I would need, but first he had to convince me that Prince was behind it.

And I wasn’t having it…

…until he showed me the album cover of Madhouse 8.

When I saw Manneca Lightener in that low-slung polka dot shirt and red hat, knowing Prince, I was then convinced.

“Madhouse 6" was a hit with young Black people but Sayyed and I were fans. We played the entire album religiously. Between that and Madhouse 16, I decided that I was going to start looking into jazz.

Somehow, I made it into college.

And Prince introduced the New Power Generation…which led to a six year disconnect between me and his music.

I didn’t want to hear people rapping on Prince tracks and most of the time, those raps were pedestrian at best. I still bought the albums because, I was a Prince fan and I would be utterly disappointed, sometimes not even having a slow song as redemption. I think “Joy in Repetition” was all I got off of Graffiti Bridge. Diamonds & Pearls had “Insatiable.” Many of the albums that followed had nothing (for me).

Now in Atlanta, Sayyed and I would make Prince playlist and the like because the albums just weren’t doing it.

As most people know, Prince had a long, ongoing battle with Warner Brothers up until right before he returned. There were the “symbol” years. Then there was the “slave” years. Finally, in 1996, Prince dropped Emancipation celebrating his release from Warner and just like that…all was right with the world.

I recall me & Sayyed listening to the album driving to Alabama to see Minister Farrakhan, nodding, and saying over and over, “He’s back!”

And for the past 20 years, hit or miss, we’ve been avid supporters. When we expanded Fundamentals to include the Saturday Morning Sneak Attack Mix, we made it a point to end each show with a Prince song, with the last seven years since Lotusflower being some of his best material since the 80s, in my honest opinion.

Gone were the raps or songs that were attempts at playing what was contemporary and instead, Prince blessed us with his wide-spanse of musical knowledge incorporating the Blues, Jazz, & Rock. When people said they were Prince fans, these new albums were the litmus test. Just this Super Bowl Sunday, Sayyed and I were having that exact conversation, comparing notes, seeing if we had missed any of Prince’s latest.

I had no intention on writing anything about Prince because I knew I could never do him or his music justice. The best I could do was speak into how his art played a role in my life and although this is public, it’s really written for the countless friends that I’ve met along the way who I’ve bonded with based on that same love and appreciation for Prince. The last of my generations great artists is gone and I’m grateful to have lived and grown up when I did.