As promised/warned back at the beginning of the month, I’m intentionally taking my sweet time on the next post (though I will commit to getting it out by the end of the month). In the meantime, here’s my latest guest appearance on Darren Husted’s Prince: Track by Track podcast:
The last time I shared an episode of Prince: Track by Track, I promised that my next post would be something more substantial; so, to keep that promise, I held back on sharing this latest episode until now.
I have to confess that I wasn’t familiar with “The Morning After” until I signed up to talk about it; I bought my copy of LOtUSFLOW3R on CD (from Zia Records in Tucson, Arizona), so I was only familiar with the configuration of the album that included “Crimson and Clover” instead. I literally listened to the song seconds before recording this, so you’re hearing my unfiltered first impressions here:
Also, this week I noticed a curious spike in views for one of the most obscure songs discussed on the blog: a late 1978 demo that has been circulating under the title “Nadeara.” Turns out the reason for all the attention was one of Prince’s old notebooks, currently up for auction, which contains (among other things) a breakup letter from the real woman who inspired the song. Also, it turns out we’ve been spelling “Nadira” wrong all these years. Oops. Anyway, I’ve added a photo of the note to the post on “Nadira,” the song, and also included it below for those who might be interested:
This is usually where I would make some kind of vague promise about when I’ll be posting again, but I’m actually not going to nail anything down yet because I know that the next piece I write is going to be longer and more research-intensive than usual. I will just say it’s a pretty significant chapter of the “story,” and I hope you’ll enjoy it once it’s ready.
October 19, 2018 marks the 39th anniversary of Prince’s self-titled second album–not the most glamorous occasion, perhaps, but reason enough to reassemble the review panel from our For You podcast for a reappraisal. Once again, Zach is joined by Harold and KaNisa for a track-by-track discussion of this underappreciated album, its resonances throughout Prince’s career, and why it still matters.
If you want to keep in the loop for our forthcoming Dirty Mindpodcast, you can subscribe to dance / music / sex / romance on your aggregator of choice (iTunes, Stitcher, or Google Play); and if you like what we’re doing and want to spread the word, please leave us a review! In the meantime, the d / m / s / r blog will return next week with one last track from 1981.
Let me actually start with an update: I’m now about halfway through my second post on “Controversy,” which means it will be on track to go live next week. Very excited to share it; the first “Controversy” post was one of my favorite things I’ve written for d / m / s / r, and this one feels to me like a worthy followup. In the meantime, here’s another episode of the Prince: Track by Track podcast, where host Darren Husted and I talk about one of my favorite deep cuts of the ’90s:
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: