(Featured Image: Cover art for “Nothing Compares 2 U,” 2018; photo by Nancy Bundt, © NPG Records/Warner Bros.)
Last week, I made my long-awaited, surreal, exhausting pilgrimage to the Twin Cities to attend the Prince from Minneapolis conference and Paisley Park’s Celebration 2018. I have complicated feelings, which I’m still processing–and will continue to do so, with the help of some other people who were there, on the podcast in the coming weeks. For now, though, I have some basic reactions to Celebration, and to the newly-released Prince song that was debuted on the event’s first day.
I wasn’t sure what to expect from Celebration coming in–reports of last year’s event suggested a combination music festival, fan convention, and cult indoctrination–but in my experience, it was basically a corporate retreat for hardcore Prince fans. There were hours of panel discussions with ex-band members Gayle Chapman, Dez Dickerson, Matt Fink, and Bobby Z; photographers Allen Beaulieu, Nancy Bundt, Terry Gydesen, and Nandy McLean; and dancers Tomasina Tate and, um, Wally Safford. There were screenings of Prince concerts from the Piano & A Microphone, HitnRun 2015, and–via the associated “Prince: Live on the Big Screen” event at the Target Center–Welcome 2 America tours. There were live performances by Sheila E, fDeluxe (née the Family), and a (fantastic) new supergroup of New Power Generation alumni dubbed the Funk Soldiers. And, of course, there was the debut of the music video for Prince’s previously-unreleased studio version of his pop standard “Nothing Compares 2 U.”
Continue reading “Nothing Compares 2 U”
(Featured Image: Ooh wee baby, your body’s like no other; photo stolen from Darling Nisi’s Tumblr.)
As warned/promised last month, I have been up to my neck in drafting my chapter for the upcoming Prince and the Minneapolis Sound anthology (which is now two days late as of this writing–sorry, editors). As always, however, my much more consistent colleague in chronological Prince studies Darren Husted has come to the rescue with another episode of his podcast Prince: Track by Track featuring yours truly:
As usual, I picked a track that I consider a bit of a dark horse favorite. I hope you enjoy listening as Darren somehow manages to reference an obscure Michael Cera coming-of-age film, and I spend a solid minute and a half clearly describing a vagina without actually saying the word “vagina.”
We’ll be back to our regular schedule (I hope) next week, assuming I finish my chapter and/or my editors don’t kill me first. Have a great weekend!
(Featured Image: Prince, Kim Upsher, and André Cymone, early 1980s; photo by Sylvia Amos, née Anderson. Stolen from Neon Rendezvous.)
Around the same time that Prince was co-opting Flyte Tyme for his project with Morris Day, he was also falling out with another of his oldest comrades: the co-founder of Grand Central and his closest musical partner, André Cymone.
André’s and Prince’s musical fates had been linked since the moment they first locked eyes in the Bryant Junior High gymnasium. Both were budding multi-instrumentalists, the children of talented jazz musicians: André’s father, Fred Anderson, used to play bass with Prince’s father, John L. Nelson. Both, too, possessed a preternatural drive far beyond the norms of their age and circumstance. “There was a sixth sense between the two of us,” Cymone told Billboard in 2016. “It’s something that doesn’t happen, I don’t think, very often where you find two people come together who are really passionate about what they do at a time when they’re both growing and learning” (Cymone 2016).
Continue reading “Do Me, Baby”
(Featured Image: The ecstatic release of “The Beautiful Ones” from Purple Rain; © Warner Bros.)
Note: As I’m sure you’re aware, tomorrow marks the first anniversary of Prince’s passing. The following is a piece I wrote a few hours after hearing the news, and posted on my other blog (my only one at the time), Dystopian Dance Party. These were my most personal feelings about Prince and what he meant to my life, specifically to my relationships with women. The post is more about me than it is about Prince, and it’s still one of the most intimate things I’ve put up for public consumption–so much that I’m still not thrilled about sharing it. But if you don’t mind digging a little too deep into my psyche, you’re welcome to read it. We’ll be back tomorrow with another, (somewhat) less personal tribute.
Continue reading “From Dystopian Dance Party: Me, 3 Women, & Prince”