(Featured Image: An actual horny toad, a.k.a. the Texas Horned Lizard; photo stolen from the Dallas News.)
I was focused on finishing up my “Lady Cab Driver” post when it came out last week, so I’m a little late in sharing my latest appearance on Jason Breininger’s Press Rewind podcast, talking about one of my biggest guilty pleasure B-sides from 1982:
And speaking of 1982, there are only two official posts left before d / m / s / r leaves that year behind and moves into 1983! I was initially planning to go straight into “1999,” but I decided to take a short detour into “No Call U” first: partly because I already know “1999” is going to be a huge, time-consuming post to write, and partly because I think it will end up making a little more “narrative” sense. So you can expect “No Call U” at the end of the week on Patreon/late next week on the blog, with “1999” following at the beginning of February. I also may try and sneak a Patreon exclusive on one of the 1999 Super Deluxe bonus tracks in there, too. We’ll be starting in on the Purple Rain era before you know it! I’ve also got a few ideas cooking for the podcast relaunch, so stay tuned for that. Later!
(Featured Image: Cover art for the “Super Deluxe” edition of 1999; © Warner Bros./NPG Records.)
Hi, friends. It’s taking some time to fully shake off the cobwebs, but I’m feeling myself shift back into gear for the new year; I won’t commit to a date so I don’t have to apologize later, but “Lady Cab Driver” is coming soon. In the meantime, here’s another piece I had been planning to write at the end of last year–my thoughts on the new Super Deluxe edition of 1999. Since we’re all friends here (and since I’m over a month late), I went for less of a formal review and more of a reflection on my personal feelings about the release and the state of the Vault in general. Patrons can read it here:
Speaking of patrons, thank you to Snax and Carlos Romero for supporting the blog and giving me some much-needed encouragement this week! Snax and Carlos bring us up to 20 patrons, which is honestly fantastic for my humble little project. More relevant for everyone reading this, they also brought the total monthly support up to $99–a mere dollar less than the threshold for me to start producing the d / m / s / r podcast again. That means that if just one person becomes a patron, the goal will be met! If that sounds like the kind of responsibility you’d like to have on your shoulders, you know what to do.
(Featured Image: Engraving of “The Frog King,” a.k.a. “The Frog Prince,” from a presumably 19th- or early-20th-century edition of the Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales; artist unknown.)
August 17, 1983: “Delirious” is released as the third U.S. single (and fourth worldwide) from 1999, an album nearly 10 months in the rearview mirror. Two weeks ago to the day, Prince and his newly-christened band the Revolution had played an epochal show at First Avenue in Minneapolis, where they debuted five songs (three of them master recordings) from his upcoming sixth album, Purple Rain. In less than a year’s time, the album would come out and achieve a level of commercial success which would make Prince’s previous breakout hit, the Number 6 single “Little Red Corvette,” look like a mere prologue. But for now, he’s in victory lap mode: riding the coattails of “Corvette”’s success with a second Top 10 hit, backed by a soundalike B-side recorded in his Kiowa Trail home studio the previous summer.
That B-side, “Horny Toad,” does not rank among Prince’s most renowned work. It’s rarely even singled out as one of the best tracks on The Hits/The B-Sides–the collection where, I’m willing to wager, most contemporary listeners first heard it. The closest thing to an official accolade I can find is its bottom-100 placement on the 500 Prince Songs blog (which seems about right)–unless, that is, you count a 2016 shout-out from Wired magazine’s Brian Raftery, who calls it “rollickingly stupid” (also correct).
Continue reading “Horny Toad”
(Featured Image: Courtship rituals of early ’80s French rocker gang the Del Vikings; photo by Gilles Elie Cohen, stolen from VICE.)
After a string of songs exploring, to various degrees, the darker side of his emotional spectrum, Prince capped off his late April and early May 1982 sessions at Sunset Sound with something light and frothy. Sonically, “Delirious” is cut from the same cloth as most of its predecessors on the album that would become 1999: from the driving Linn LM-1 beat to the sparse, but infectious synth line. Yet where songs like “Automatic” and “Let’s Pretend We’re Married” assemble these building blocks into complex, ever-shifting structures, “Delirious” offers more straightforward pleasures: it’s a simple eight-bar blues, as pure and elemental as Leiber and Stoller’s “Hound Dog” or Jesse Stone’s “Shake, Rattle and Roll.”
With its solidly retro foundation, “Delirious” is arguably the pinnacle of Prince’s brief, but intense infatuation with 1950s rock ‘n’ roll: an “obsession,” according to guitarist Dez Dickerson, that began when the band caught a show by rockabilly revivalists the Stray Cats while in London on the Dirty Mind tour. “We were all blown away with them,” Dickerson told Nashville Scene magazine in 2014, “the look, [singer] Brian Setzer’s amazing sound, just the sheer authenticity of it.” The experience inspired a handful of songs–most famously “Jack U Off” from 1981’s Controversy, but also tracks like the unreleased “You’re All I Want.” Perhaps even more notably, according to Dickerson, it also inspired both him and Prince to style their choppy punk hairdos into Little Richard-style pompadours (Shawhan 2014).
Continue reading “Delirious”