Sometimes, the uncanny ease of Prince’s creative process can make it tempting to presume that his songs simply sprang forth from him, like Athena from the forehead of Zeus. This is doubly true when one considers that, in at least a few cases, that’s pretty much exactly what happened. Engineer Peggy McCreary likes to tell the story of when Prince called her back into Sunset Sound on the morning of February 4, 1984, after a typical marathon session the previous night: “I remember going to bed at six in the morning and he called and said, ‘Can you be at the studio at noon?’ because he had dreamed a song,” she told sessionographer Duane Tudahl. “He said if he dreamed a chorus he’d call me, and he did, and it was ‘Manic Monday’” (Tudahl 2018 253).
Believe it or not, it’s already time for a July Patreon update! This was a pretty good month for me, writing-wise, so I spent some time reflecting on that, as well as my ongoing Apolloniassance, a preview of my plans for the podcast, and some questions from longtime patron/podcast guest/friend of the blog Snax! On that note: In an effort to make talking to a camera for an hour once a month feel slightly less weird, I would love for more topic suggestions/questions/whatever from patrons. Please leave ’em in the comments (here or on Patreon), send ’em to me via Patreon DM, or hell, even email me at email@example.com. Thanks for your support, and I’ll see you in August!
Prince’s Sunset Sound session on February 3, 1984 was highly productive, even by his lofty standards: After taking “A Million Miles (I Love You)” from jam session to finished track, he still had time to complete a second number for Apollonia 6. To date, his efforts to write for the group’s namesake had been dogged by her limited range as a singer. “In a Spanish Villa” was his most ingenious solution to the problem yet: Rather than spending another long night building Apollonia’s confidence in the vocal booth, he’d craft a song around one of the bilingual actress’ existing strengths–sounding sexy in Spanish.
After a slight delay due to various personal crises, my sister and I finally got back together to record the second part of our podcast on Morris Day’s On Time: A Princely Life in Funk. If you liked the first episode and are okay with the occasional, affectionate laugh at Prince’s expense, I think you’ll enjoy this one. Otherwise, I plan to be back next week with another installment of my ongoing Apollonia 6 reappraisal!
Like its predecessor Vanity 6, the Apollonia 6 album was something of a community effort, with contributions from Prince’s touring bandmates and others from his circle. One of the most notable new additions to that circle was percussionist Sheila Escovedo, better known as “Sheila E.”
Sheila had actually been on Prince’s radar–and he on hers–for years before they ever set foot in the studio together. Her father, Mexican American percussionist Pete Escovedo, first told her about the “young kid… playing all the instruments and producing and writing by himself” in 1977, while he was recording with Santana and Prince was working on his debut album at the Record Plant in Sausalito. The following year, she told Billboard’s Jem Aswad. “I walked into a record store and saw a poster of him and was like, ‘Oh my God, he’s beautiful’” (Aswad “Sheila” 2016).