(Featured Image: Prince in 1978; photo by Darlene Pfister, Minneapolis Star Tribune.)
One thing Prince established very early on was a near-constant rate of musical productivity: as we observed way back at the beginning of this blog, he spent the vast majority of his day-to-day adult life–not to mention a good amount of his childhood–participating in some form of songwriting, recording, rehearsal, or performance. So it should come as no surprise that when Prince moved into his first house in the summer of 1978, the otherwise-unassuming 5215 France Avenue in Edina, Minnesota brought with it another first: his first home studio. Indeed, according to his cousin and former Grand Central drummer Charles Smith, the rest of the house was mostly an afterthought for Prince: “The basement was full of equipment but he didn’t have any furniture in the house,” Smith told biographer Per Nilsen. “He didn’t have any carpets. He just had a rocking chair and a little TV for his games.” Eventually Prince’s girlfriend at the time, Kim Upsher, would help decorate and make the place “look like a home” (Nilsen 1999 43). But it’s clear that creature comforts placed a distant second for Prince, below his ability to create whenever the muse struck him. The lifelong blurring of the lines between studio and living space that he’d set into motion while still living in the Andersons’ basement was, by mid-1978, in full swing.
The France Avenue “studio” wasn’t exactly Paisley Park, of course: just a basement space with instruments and a portable TEAC four-track reel-to-reel. But it did the job, giving Prince an opportunity to flesh out new ideas without booking expensive studio time–which, after the hefty $170,000 recording cost of For You, probably came as a relief to the bean counters at Warner Bros. Many of the demos for Prince’s second album were reportedly recorded at home, and a few of the tracks that ended up on 94 East’s infamous Minneapolis Genius compilation (more on that to come). There were also several songs known only by their titles: “Darlene Marie” (also known as “Darling Marie”), “Do It Again,” “Gypsy,” “I am You,” “I Met a Virgin Queen,” “I’m Leaving L.A.,” “Love Affair,” “Love of Mine,” “Rocking Chair,” and “We Would Like to See You Again,” as well as a re-recording of the 1976 demo “Rock Me, Lover.” And then there are the circulating recordings: starting with today’s six untitled instrumentals.
Continue reading “1978 Instrumentals”
(Featured Image: Warner Bros. press photo, 1978; stolen from Lansure’s Music Paraphernalia.)
Note: In the last several weeks of writing about the songs on Prince’s debut album, I’ve been struck by the many contingencies that exist around For You, and Prince’s early career in general. If things had gone even slightly differently; if his label–or, for that matter, Prince himself–had shown even a little less confidence in his artistic development; then we would be looking at a very different musical landscape in 2016. There’s also the fact that, as I’ve noted several times in my track-by-track posts, it’s difficult to look at For You in retrospect without seeing it as just the first, not-entirely-successful glimpse at a talent and vision that would find its full expression in years to come. But what if that perspective wasn’t the default? What if For You wasn’t the first step in a long career by Prince, but in fact his first and last album? This post is my attempt to think my way through this situation: think of it as a look back at For You from a possible alternate timeline. I don’t know if I will do this for other albums in the future–or, like, ever again–but I thought it was an interesting exercise to examine Prince’s earliest days as a recording artist through a completely different lens. I hope you find it interesting, too.
Continue reading “My Life with You I Share: An Alternate Timeline Review of For You”
(Featured Image: Locked out of Paisley Park by Judith Hill; © NPG Records/Tremolo Productions.)
For my last installment of Prince (Protégé) Summer on Andresmusictalk, I focused on a handful of young women with which Prince was associated during the last decade or so of his life: Támar Davis, Bria Valente, Andy Allo, and Judith Hill. As I note in the post, I don’t especially love his collaborations with any of these latter-day protégées (especially Bria Valente, blah). But I think it’s interesting that toward the end of his life, Prince seemed to become more generous and less overtly controlling with his collaborators; it makes for a bittersweet end to the series, and it’s something I look forward to exploring in more detail on this blog. Anyway, here’s the link:
Again, we’ve got one more take on For You next week, then I’m officially (finally!) moving on. Later!
(Featured Image: Under the Cherry Moon; © Warner Bros.)
As you may or may not already know, Dystopian Dance Party is my other blog where I post whatever I feel like writing about to an empty and indifferent universe. One of our most recent recurring features is called Wrecka Stow: a video series in which we visit used record shops and document our browsing/buys. The music we discuss is pretty eclectic; but the latest installment, covering CD Cellar in Falls Church, Virginia, happens to include quite a few Prince-adjacent artists, including the Time, Vanity, Sheila E, the Family, André Cymone, and Prince and the Revolution themselves. I’ll share it here on the off chance that any of my readers enjoy looking at old vinyl as much as I do:
Be back tomorrow with another link to my Prince-related content from elsewhere on the Internet. Have a good weekend!