This is not Music Week’s official obit for Prince. I will leave that to someone with a far firmer grasp of history, statistics, music, culture and, okay, the English language than me.
But man – and here’s where you get a first sense of the pervading unofficialdom – I fucking loved Prince. In the 1980s, there was him and there was Morrissey. I have no idea or interest in whether or not there was and is a contradiction to worshipping them both (or in what you think of Morrissey, honestly). To me they were simply two glorious outsiders who lit up the world and made (my) life better.
Because (see Morrissey reference) I was a dreadful indie snob, I kind of swerved the Purple Rain juggernaut. Mainstream success? Ugh, no thanks. I was an idiot; the album is full of weirdness, rudeness and outright bangers - and it also, thanks to Darling Nikki, and her noble crusade to maintain a place for print media, lead to the creation of the Parental Advisory stickers.
Because I was too young/nowhere near as cool as I thought I was, the early funk albums also passed me by (what treats I had in store!).
Parade, though. Kiss, though. I couldn’t believe that someone had been gifted and kind enough to make one of the greatest singles that could ever be made whilst I was not only alive, but young enough to really enjoy it. Because, ultimately, pop music’s for the young. The best pop music you’ll ever hear is when you’re young. That applies to everyone, even if it’s shit. It just so happens that in my case, in this case, it really was the best.
I remember talking to a friend about Kiss just after we’d heard it for the first time, and he said, It sounds like the greatest demo anyone ever recorded, and someone, thank God (he must have meant Prince), said, Fuck it, put that out, it ain’t gonna get no better.
And then came Sign o’ the Times. It was undeniably an ‘event’ album. The NME, I remember, gave it a track by track preview, which was exceptional at the time. They did it because people expected so much. And, of course, Prince delivered so much more. The greatest double album ever made? Maybe. There’s no Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da, is there? A super smart Joni Mitchell reference, yes, but no Desmond and Molly.
The title track is another lesson in stripped back, rumbling funk behind a melody to die for and a lyric that astonished everyone.
And then there's If I Was Your Girlfriend… My God, skinny white boys think they’re weird. It’s an amazing record, another 'perfect demo' as a backing track, an astonishing lyric based on a brilliant concept. An artist at the peak of his powers.
The '80s was an incredible decade for pop stars, it really was when giants roamed the earth (even if this one was 5’2” in heels), but only Madonna rivalled Prince in terms of combing commercial success, heavy rotation and packed stadia with Bible-belt-taunting, boundary-pushing, subversive brilliance. He was one of the biggest stars on the planet and yet he never compromised; he always evolved, teased, shocked and surprised.
And talking of packed stadia: live, he was breathtaking. The voice, the guitar playing, the dancing, the old-fashioned showmanship (in many ways he harked back to those jazz/funk hard taskmasters who pushed already brilliant musicians as far as possible, and we all ended up benefiting from the joyful noise). He was the most singularly talented performer I’ve ever seen.
On top of everything, what a ‘jobbing’ songwriter! Nothing Compares 2 U – an album track with a side project! Manic Monday, here you go Bangles, don’t even mention it! When You Were Mine was a b-side for God's sake; that’s just showing off!
The ‘80s were his golden years, of course. And in the middle of the '80s he was celestial. Between 1984 and 1988 he released five albums, starting with Purple Rain and ending with Lovesexy. Much of the reminiscing in the coming days will revolve around that period, which is completely fine and completely understandable.
He was one of the most remarkable and recognisable artists on the planet during those years. But before that, he was a genius; and after that, he was a genius.
Don’t even try and imagine the last 40 years without Prince, because it’s impossible. Imagining the future without him seemed impossible until yesterday, now it just seems unspeakably horrible.
Ultimately though, this is one of those moments when Frank Zappa’s ‘dancing about architecture’ jibe rings true. So dig out your vinyl or CDs (streaming won’t help you here) and celebrate one of the greatest artists of all time, you sexy motherfucker.
