(Featured Image: Purple Rain Tour Shirt, 1984; photo stolen from the Current.)
It’s been just under two months since I started interviewing presenters from this spring’s interdisciplinary Prince conference at the University of Salford, and I’ve been absolutely thrilled with the results. But all good things must come to an end, so I had planned to make this chat with writer Erica Thompson the last of my post-conference podcasts. It would have been a great choice, too; Erica’s presentation was the result of many years of research for a book project on Prince’s spiritual journey, so our conversation was less about the conference in particular and more about her findings more generally: a nice segue into future, less Manchester-centric episodes.
But just when I think I’m out, they keep pulling me back in. Contrary to my own statements in this episode, I have already set up another interview with a few presenters from one of the conference’s gender and sexuality panels. So basically, expect me to keep interviewing scholars from the Purple Reign conference until the next milestone in Prince scholarship comes along. And in the meantime, please enjoy my and Erica’s conversation about the importance–and, sometimes, difficulty–of understanding Prince’s religious faith in relationship with his art.
As usual, I invite you to subscribe to the podcast on iTunes, Stitcher, or Google Play for mobile listening; you can also stream episodes on Mixcloud. And keep listening, because there’s good stuff–Purple Reign-related and otherwise–coming up in the near future!
This episode, it’s 2 Zacks United 4 Prince Conference (sorry) as your usual host, Zach Hoskins, talks to Zack Stiegler, Associate Professor in Communications Media Studies at Indiana University of Pennsylvania. As in my last episode with Jane Clare Jones, we’re here to talk about Zack’s time at the University of Salford’s interdisciplinary Prince conference back in May; but we also touch upon a lot of other interesting subjects, including Prince’s ever-shifting attitudes toward the Internet, his racial consciousness, and the subtle (/sometimes not-so-subtle) current of Afrofuturism in his work.
Again, I’ll be posting more of these conversations in the weeks to come–already have another one in the can, in fact!–and would love to speak to anyone else who attended the conference and wants to chat. If you enjoyed this and would like to hear more, remember to subscribe and (if you want!) review the podcast on any of the major services: iTunes, Stitcher, or Google Play. I’ll also be adding the episode to Mixcloud, but frankly I’m not always as good at doing that in a timely fashion. See you again soon!
(Featured Image: Grand Central, circa 1974. L to R: Linda Anderson, André Anderson, Morris Day, Terry Jackson, Prince, and William Doughty. Photo by Charles Chamblis, stolen from Housequake.)
In the fall of 1972, André Anderson walked into the new student orientation at Bryant Junior High and locked eyes with a kid who reminded him of himself. “I didn’t know any of these people, and they just looked weird,” he told Wax Poeticsin 2012. “I looked down the line, and I saw this kid and I thought, ‘He looks cool.’ I went up to him and said, ‘Hey, how you doin’? My name is André.’ He said, ‘My name is Prince.’ I said, ‘What are you into?’ He said, ‘I’m into music'” (Danois 2012).
André was into music, too. He played horns, guitar, and bass; Prince played piano and guitar. In addition to their mutual talent, both teens were mutually ambitious: André later recalled to Billboardmagazine how he “started talking about how [‘]I’m going to be this[’]. And he’s [‘]yeah, me too[’]. Next thing you know we became best friends.” They went back to John Nelson’s house, where Prince was living at the time, and jammed; Prince showed off his expertise with the theme songs from The Man from U.N.C.L.E.and Peanuts. That same day, they learned of a weird coincidence: André’s father, Fred Anderson, used to play in the Prince Rogers Trio with Prince’s father John. Pretty soon–“maybe within the week or month,” according to André–he and Prince had formed a band of their own with Prince’s cousin, Charles Smith (Cymone 2016). The group went through the usual teen-band assortment of quickly-discarded names–“the Soul Explosion,” “Phoenix” –before finally settling on “Grand Central.”