(Featured Image: Back cover of Music of My Mind, © Motown Records.)
I took a much-needed break from both externally- and self-imposed work on Monday and spent all day yesterday catching up, which means I’m tardy in sharing my latest appearance on Darren Husted’s miniseries of track by track podcasts on the “classic era” of Stevie Wonder. So, for those who are interested, here it is now:
For those who aren’t interested–and just simply for everyone’s information–a quick update: “Horny Toad” will be up on the blog tomorrow, with “Lust U Always” (the winner of our Patreon poll) following for patrons on Friday. If you want to read the post on this still-controversial track a week ahead of the general public, consider supporting dance / music / sex / romance on Patreon. I know things got inexcusably quiet in October, but I have some good stuff planned from now through the holidays:
In any case, thanks as always for reading!
(Featured Image: Cover art for Where I’m Coming From, © Motown Records.)
I know, I know, this isn’t what you want from me right now–but I recorded this podcast with Darren Husted of Prince: Track by Track fame a couple of months ago and I wanted to share it here for anyone who might be interested. If you’ve listened to any of my appearances on Track by Track, this will be familiar territory–with the obvious exception that we’re talking about Stevie Wonder, an artist with whom I am less familiar than I am with Prince, but who I obviously still appreciate on account of my functioning ears:
If you enjoy this, there’s more on the way: I’ve already recorded an episode for each of Wonder’s albums from 1972’s Music of My Mind to 1976’s Songs in the Key of Life. Also, while we’re on the subject of stuff I’ve done recently that is only vaguely Prince-related, my other project Dystopian Dance Party released a podcast the other week about George Clinton’s 2014 memoir Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain’t That Funkin’ Kinda Hard on You?, co-written by Prince book author Ben Greenman (and if you remember my review of said Prince book, rest assured that this one is better):
That concludes my shilling for this week! The next time you hear from me, it will be with a full post for “Purple Music.”
(Featured Image: Cover art for On Time: A Princely Life in Funk by Morris Day and David Ritz, from Amazon.)
Folks, I know I’ve been very quiet around these parts lately, but I promise it isn’t because I’m lazy–I’ve just been spread so thin at my day job that I’ve come dangerously close to burning out. If you’re a supporter of the Patreon, don’t worry: I am cancelling payments for the month of November to make up for my inactivity this month. Everyone else, I will be back on track soon–and I’m happy to announce that the next song post is “Purple Music,” which should be a lot of fun to write!
In the meantime, patrons can now read my review of On Time, the new autobiography by Morris Day with David Ritz:
The short version: it’s a fun read, but a little on the slight side. If you want to check out the book and also provide some modest support to dance / music / sex / romance, feel free to use my Amazon affiliate link. Otherwise, I will see you–cross my heart, etc.–soon.
(Featured Image: Prince’s electric church in the music video for “Controversy,” 1981; © Warner Bros.)
Note: This is the third and last post on “Controversy”: a song that presents so much to unpack, I’ve opted to split my analysis into parts. Please read the first and second parts before proceeding.
Do I believe in God? Do I believe in me?
Of the famous questions Prince asks in the lyrics to “Controversy,” he only answers one–or two, depending on how you count them. The questions are, “Do I believe in God?” and, “Do I believe in me?” The answer–to both, presumably–is “yes.”
More even than the nuances of race and sexuality, this distinction between “God” and “me”–the sacred and the secular, the spirit and the flesh, etc.–was the prevailing theme of Prince’s career. This in itself hardly makes him unique: the “comingling of the profane and the spiritual is an age-old Black music trope,” writes cultural critic Touré. “Quite often in Black music history the erotic and the divine, or the concerns of Saturday night and Sunday morning, are close together in a song or a playing style or an album or a career”–including those of Prince progenitors like Little Richard, James Brown, Sam Cooke, Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield, and others (Touré 125). But while the majority of these artists vacillated between “God’s music” and “the Devil’s,” Prince’s innovation was in combining the two: making gospel-informed music that erased the fine line between matters of the body and the soul.
Continue reading “Controversy, Part 3: Do I Believe in God? Do I Believe in Me?”