(Featured Image: The Time at Sam’s, October 7, 1981. L to R: Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis, Morris Day, Jesse Johnson, Monte Moir. Photo stolen from prince.org.)
During the weeks leading up to the release of their debut album in July 1981, Prince had honed the Time into a formidable live unit. “He brought stuff out of us that we didn’t think we could do,” keyboardist Jimmy Jam later recalled. Left to their own devices, the band would “rehearse for like four hours and think we were tired. We’d go through the set twice and sit around and talk for two hours.” But with Prince as taskmaster, “we’d work five or six hours straight, over and over, no breaks… He would give us keyboard parts that were impossible. We would be like, ‘We can’t play these.’ He would be like, ‘Yeah, you can, and while you’re playing them I want you to do this step of choreography and sing this note of harmony.’ Couple of days later we’d be doing it. A month later we’d be on tour and it would be automatic. He was a great motivator and the thing that made him a great motivator was that he works so hard himself. He’s always squeezing the most out of everything” (Nilsen 1999 87).
That summer, the Time made their live debut in a showcase for Warner Bros. executives at S.I.R. Studios on Sunset Boulevard–the same venue where, three years earlier, Prince had held auditions for his own backing band. “It was just 10 or 12 of us,” Marylou Badeaux, at that time a marketing executive in the label’s “Black Music” division, told biographer Per Nilsen. “We went down there after work one day to be shown this new Warner Bros. group that was produced by Jamie Starr. No one knew who Jamie Starr was. They turned off all the lights, and this diminutive little character with a veil walked in to stand behind the console and mix it. Somebody says, ‘That’s Jamie Starr!’ And I looked and said, ‘No, that’s Prince!’” (Nilsen 1999 87).
(Featured Image: My quick ‘n’ dirty d / m / s / r logo, apologies to Warner Bros. and Andy Warhol.)
It’s hard to believe that it’s been a whole two years since I launched dance / music / sex / romance. I want to thank everyone who’s been following along thus far; many of you, I know, have been here pretty much from the beginning. If you need a refresher on (most of) what’s happened since the last year-end round-up, here you go:
So, what have we done in the last 12 months? A little less than I promised this time last year, but also a lot more. If you look purely at the number of songs covered on the blog, my progress has slowed significantly: a mere 20, versus last year’s 45. If I keep up this pace, the 2036 end point I semi-jokingly offered last year just might become a reality. But I’ve also been doing a lot more than I was doing in June 2017. The podcast has taken on a life of its own; I’ve become a regular guest on another podcast, Prince: Track by Track; I wrote an essay about Prince and New Wave for publication in an anthology on Prince and the Minneapolis Sound; I presented on two panels at the Prince from Minneapolis conference; I launched my own magazine, thanks in large part to the support and goodwill of a small but dedicated group of readers.
I’m not gonna lie, I have more plans for extracurricular activities in 2018-19. Some of them depend on external forces outside my control; some of them you’ll probably be hearing about in the near future. But I also think that the next 12 months of d / m / s / r will be a little bit of a “back to basics” move. I really want to get through more than two albums by next June; I really want to go back to my weekly post routine. I have some thoughts about how to make this possible with my other commitments, which I’ll be sharing in the near future. For now, if you’ve been reading this blog, thanks for hanging in there for the lean times and thanks for your support. And if you’ve just started reading, welcome! I hope you enjoy this labor of love as much as I continue to.
As of this writing, there is no public record of the order in which the songs on the Time’s first album were recorded (fingers crossed that Duane Tudahl can scare up some details when he gets around to writing his book on the 1981-82 studio sessions). It’s generally agreed, however, that the song Prince used to get Warner Bros. interested in the project was the one that became its lead single and opening track: “Get It Up.”
As a proof of concept for the Time project, “Get It Up” makes a lot of sense. It is, first of all, familiar territory. According to Bobby Z, the song came out of Prince’s jams with his touring band, and it shows: more than any other song on The Time, “Get It Up” sounds like the missing link between Dirty Mindand Controversy(Nilsen 1999 86). The brittle New Wave funk arrangement and wheedling Oberheim synthesizer, played once again by guest soloist Matt Fink, bear Prince’s immediately identifiable fingerprints–that, and the fact that his backing vocals are clearly audible throughout the track.
(Featured Image: Marylou and Prince, 1979; photo from Moments… Remembering Prince by Marylou Badeaux.)
This is the last d / m / s / r podcast of 2017, and I have to say we’re going out on a high note. It was my honor and privilege to speak with Marylou Badeaux: a former Warner Bros. executive who worked closely with Prince for his 17 years with the label, and the author of the newly-released memoir Moments… Remembering Prince. You can probably tell that I was a little nervous at the beginning of the conversation, but we warmed up quickly and had a great chat about Prince and his relationship with the label that, for better or worse, defined his era of peak artistic achievement.
Now, I have one last item of business to conduct before the podcast goes on holiday break. There are actually two winners of my contest for iTunes and Stitcher reviews–one for each platform. The first is Louise Be, for her eloquent and incredibly flattering review on Stitcher; the second is Mafalda Taborda, who not only left a very nice review on iTunes, but was also the first person to review the podcast on any platform. Louise and Mafalda, if you’re reading and/or listening to this, please email me and let me know which of the two recent Prince books you would prefer me to send: Marylou’s Moments, or Duane Tudahl’s Prince and the Purple Rain Era Studio Sessions. And for everyone else who participated–and those who didn’t!–thanks for making the first year of the dance / music / sex / romance podcast such a pleasure to put together. I can’t wait to see where things go in 2018.