Prince, The Artist, Jamie Starr, Alexander Nevermind, Victor, Camille, Skipper, Sexy MF. Like his oeuvre — like his talent — Prince Rogers Nelson is so larger than life it’s no wonder he needs more than one persona. He’s been a one-man army of studio geniuses on his own records and those of pop moppets like Vanity 6 and forgotten heroes like George Clinton. He’s made enough hit records to fuel whole labels. There are also the films, but let’s forget about those for a moment. Prince ought to be as mythical as Orpheus. Except Orpheus never went multi-platinum.The name “Prince Rogers” was first used by John L. Nelson, the jazz pianist who was the Artist’s father. He was born in Minneapolis, MN on June 7, 1958. His mother just called him “Skipper” because of his impish size. Prince learnt the piano at the fingers of his father, composing his first song at the age of seven. Its title “Funk Machine” was probably the only time Prince was ever typical.
He could only have come from Minneapolis. Its multicultural diaspora meant that by the time he reached John Hay Elementary School he was already experienced in countless genres. He was also getting used to living hard and staying funky. The 12-year-old Prince went to live with his father when his parents divorced, but was thrown out after getting too bold with a young girlfriend.
Prince didn’t know whether to lead a band like his first combo Phoenix, or work alone. Singer Morris Day came to Phoenix’s fore, but Prince became the total package, mastering more than 20 instruments and overdubbing himself on demos. At 19, he had already flirted with record labels in New York, come home, and signed an unprecedented deal with Warner Brothers giving him total artistic control over his debut.
His debut might have been his lowest point. For You was over-budget and under-whelming. Some reviews were at least kind enough to mention the name “Stevie Wonder.” His second album was titled merely Prince, and it was like starting over. “I Wanna Be Your Lover” became a No. 1 R&B hit and still sounds fresher than anything else from 1979.
Self-sufficient and upwardly mobile, Prince came with the times. With Reagan and the moral majority’s puritanism supposedly calling the culture, Prince welcomed 1980 with his first masterpiece — Dirty Mind. “Head” was what it said, “Sister” contemplated incest and even “When You Were Mine” said, “I never was the kind to make a fuss / When he was there / Sleeping in-between the two of us.” Oh, but Prince could be downright filthy. Sometimes in make-up and stockings, it was hard to tell who he was being filthy with. Throughout his career Prince let his libido lead him, whether it was to a pocketful of Trojan horses in the 1983 No. 6 “Little Red Corvette,” to “Darling Nikki” and her dirty magazines on Purple Rain or receiving an invitation to “Jack U Off” on 1981′s self-explanatory Controversy. If that didn’t impress you, he did foreign policy, too, imploring his hero “Ronnie, Talk to Russia.” Good advice. Controversy went gold in three months.
The enormous leap Prince made from R&B maverick to worldwide pop phenomenon was the result of an astonishing effort. Prince virtually lived in the studio, writing, jamming, and releasing the best as the mother lode of 1999. He wrote the millennium anthem 17 years in advance. With the crippling work rate affecting his touring, Prince and his manager Albert Magnoli conceived of the Purple Rain album and film.
Purple Rain’s story might be as instantly forgettable as those attached Under the Cherry Moon’s Riviera romp and Graffiti Bridge’s expressionist fantasy. But for all the hoo-hah of the Kid and his family problems, his music problems and his blessed bridge what mattered was the way Prince’s film work gave him an instant history, and subjected world audiences to a taste of his electrifying live performances.
Prince’s stagecraft was straight from the book of James Brown, except doodling in the margins were similar gods like Jimi Hendrix and John Holmes. You simply didn’t know what he would do for an encore. Threaten an arena’s foundations with another axe solo like “Purple Rain”‘s? Cuddle up to the mike to beg “Do Me, Baby?” Play basketball? Could his Revolution literally funk all night?
With savvy hits like “When Doves Cry” — the first American No. 1 of the rock era with no bassline — the videos, the tours and the films, Prince achieved the mega-stardom of a Jackson, Springsteen or Madonna. He was arguably more complex than any of them, and the critics loved him for it. Purple Rain sold 15 million copies, won three Grammys and the most credible best score Oscar since Shaft. Prince was 26.
He couldn’t stand still. Around the World in a Day was likened to Sgt. Pepper and blew the irresistible “Raspberry Beret.” The 1986 No. 1 “Kiss” was one of the most perfect songs ever recorded to name-check Dynasty. In 1987 he cast away the Revolution for his most personal album to date — the extraordinary Sign O’ the Times. Prince simply did it all, and that’s on the albums he chose to release. The Black Album was put to one side after Prince scared himself with the darker aspect of the muse he had touched. He released Lovesexy instead. Cheers.
In 1986 Prince launched his own studio Paisley Park, named after a utopian playground celebrated on Around the World. From there he master-minded his own career and others with varying success. Few remember Apollonia 6, but you have to be dead not to smile at Sheila E’s “The Glamorous Life” or Sheena Easton’s “Sugar Walls.”
Then consider the artists for whom Prince became a regular Pimp Pan Alley. “I Feel For You” is the Chaka Khan song. “Manic Monday” is Cole Porter doing the Bangles. His “Nothing Compares 2 U,” leftover from when he helped out Morris Day’s The Time, made Sinead O’Connor. Even a Prince sample is guaranteed chart fodder. Just ask MC Hammer. Prince will even pick up the pen for divas like Celine Dion and Mariah Carey. And he’s traded licks with Madonna, Kate Bush and Ani DiFranco.
Prince didn’t become crap in the Nineties. In fact, he’s more compelling than ever. Having proved his case, why does he still drive himself? His Eighties competition fell by the wayside. Jackson capped it off with 1995′s HIStory and hasn’t looked back — or forward — since. Springsteen is beloved, but had to bring back the band to remind everyone. And Madonna desperately, desperately needs someone like Prince.
In the same time, Prince has changed his name, changed his label, and achieved the following: formed the New Power Generation, hit No. 1 with 1991′s “Cream,” sent a song called “7″ to No. 7, had a ballet based around his music and released a song reminding us that “My Name Is Prince / And I am funky.” He’s also written, arranged, produced and performed nine albums – one of which, Emancipation, was a triple – and sold a 40-track box of unreleased material online. Since the “comeback” of “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World,” we still don’t know where the next masterpiece will come from.
So he hasn’t quite conquered the Internet. And signing to Clive Davis’ Arista to release 1999′s RaveUn2 the Joy Fantastic was a capitulation to the big business he once waved his Purpleness at. But as 2000-zero-zero approached, on the biggest night of the millennia, there was only one way people wanted to party. Like it was … oh, you know the rest.