Prince

by Ronin Ro

  He kept working on various projects at once. First up was something for Apollonia 6. January 24, he recorded a duet called “Take Me With U.” For this one, Sheila played a Motown-like tambourine-filled dance beat. Lisa arranged a stately string section. Her brother, David, played cello. “Apollonia couldn’t sing, really,” Susan Rogers claimed. “She was in the film, and he needed the song for the movie.” Yet, the singer offered a performance so passionate he decided “Take Me with U” would be her lead single.

  Prince meanwhile kept recording, warehousing music before having to publicize his film and album. February 4, he taped “Manic Monday,” another upbeat tune with a sixties feel. With “Manic Monday,” “Take Me With U” and “Sex Shooter” on the album, Apollonia 6 looked to be his most commercial, pop-oriented side project to date.

  But three days later, a Sunday afternoon, he arrived at the warehouse to find that the equipment was malfunctioning. He needed a break from all the happy pop rock. He turned off every light, ignited some candles, and recorded a religious lament with lots of piano and falsetto. After one take, he decided this piano-driven tune, “God,” was done and left. “There wasn’t much else to say” said Susan Rogers. Eleven days later, he recorded another downhearted ballad, heavy on the “Purple Rain” echo, called “Another Lonely Christmas.” On this one, he reminisced about good times with his old girl. Only near the end did he reveal she had died. The effect was jarring.

  He’d been working on Purple Rain since the 1999 Tour. He knew how most of the songs would sound so he wanted to start something new. But it was hard to avoid rehashing a sound, especially when you’ve written as much as he did. If something he created sounded familiar, he set the reel tape into a growing archive of unreleased music. “It could be I have a need to be different,” he conceded.

  By February 19, with Purple Rain not even done yet, he started the next album with a song called “Pop Life.” In some ways, it revisited the elements of “Take Me With U,” with Sheila playing drums at a quicker tempo and Wendy and Lisa composing and conducting a string interlude. His lyric asked, “What you putting in your nose?”

  He remained tangled in Apollonia 6. The album included many potential hits but Apollonia herself was tired of him. He kept working to make it a strong debut but soon decided Sheila Escovedo would sound good on some of these Apollonia 6 songs. An album by Sheila, under the raplike nickname, “Sheila E.,” could do well. He could also have Warner release more music that way engineer Terry Christian suggested. “He had so much material and he wanted to keep recording but he didn’t want Warner to know what he was up to.”

  He told Sheila, “Why don’t you do your own album?”

  He kept encouraging her until she agreed.

  In late February Prince found time to attend the twenty-sixth Grammy Awards ceremony at the Shrine Auditorium. Jackson’s twelve Grammy nominations dominated headlines. Everyone watched him arrive with Brooke Shields and child star Emmanuel Lewis. This time, Jackson wore a shiny sequined blue jacket with big yellow shoulder pads, a white shirt, a white glove, and huge black sunglasses. Jackson had his hair done up in Jheri curls, suddenly looking a little Prince-like.

  Prince’s 1999 and one of its ballads were nominated in various categories but it was definitely Thriller’s night. Jackson won Album of the Year. “Beat It” won Record of the Year. Sting managed to win Song of the Year for “Every Breath You Take,” but Jackson’s “Beat It” and “Billie Jean” were both in the running. Eventually, it was time for Best Pop Vocal Performance: Male. Prince’s “1999” faced Billy Joel’s fifties-styled “Uptown Girl,” Lionel Richie’s festive “All Night Long (All Night),” the Flashdance number “Maniac,” and Jackson’s “Thriller.” To no one’s surprise, Jackson won. As the night continued, Prince faced Jackson again, this time for Best R&B Vocal Performance: Male. But his 1999 ballad “International Lover” lost out again to Jackson, this time for “Billie Jean.”

  It was perhaps with these memories in his mind that he arrived at Sunset Sound, March 1. Prince had a song in his head. “When Doves Cry” described a deteriorating relationship and abandonment, but instead of composing appropriately sad music, he reached for the Linn LM-1 drum machine. By now, many producers were using the Roland line of machines. But he liked this Linn’s synthetic drum sound “and hung on to it for a long time, even after it was obsolete,” said drummer Bobby Z. And when Bobby heard the beat he created, he felt Prince was not only “one of the very best drum programmers” out there, but that he could also “get very warm sounds out of machines.” Susan Rogers agreed. “No one can program a drum machine better than he can,” she claimed. “He can take a four-track machine and create a completed track out of it.”

  Once the beat was down, Prince quickly moved on to vocals, and a bass line. But when it was time to mix, he felt blocked. The bass line dragged it down and made it sound like everything else on the album. “They were almost done editing the movie,” Prince explained. It was the last song to mix. As Prince told it, he laid his head on the console while playing a rough version. Jill Jones walked in and asked what’s up.

  “If I could have it my way, it would sound like this.” He pushed a button, muting the bass line.

  “Why don’t you have it your way?”

  And so he did.

  McCreary’s recollection was far less dramatic. “He was listening, and just popped the bass track out. And it worked out beautifully”

  Either way, Alan Leeds later wrote, Prince invited Dr. Fink and Bobby Z into his car, and drove around while playing the new song. Fink was confused. He thought the album was finished. He also didn’t like the song. “There is no bass.”

  “That’s right.”

  “How come?”

  “I tried it, it just didn’t work. I just didn’t like it.”

  The song grew on him, though, Leeds noted in print. For his part, Dez was unpleasantly surprised. Later he learned that Purple Rain wouldn’t actually be “a true soundtrack album” containing everyone’s music. Since Prince wrote “more and more music” during postproduction, Prince wanted to bump “all the non-Prince stuff” (including Dez’s own song “Modernaire”). Prince never explained why, Dez added. But Prince’s co-manager Cavallo soon told a reporter that it was simply an economic decision. “We were trying not to have a double record,” Cavallo explained. “It seemed obvious that we could reach more people if the price were lower.”

  Lisa Coleman meanwhile also believed she influenced “When Doves Cry” Prince was engaged in healthy competition with her and Wendy, she said. “He was always thinking how can I kick their ass?” The answer, she implied, was the song’s pseudoclassical keyboard, harking back to her own musical background and her experience with Prince.

  On March 9, Prince recorded something else for his next album: a song with a plodding shuffle beat and bouncy, calliope-style keyboard that he called “Paisley Park.” It was what he now called his home studio (since he tired of the phrase “Uptown”).

  Prince felt he was making progress with the new album, but he had to stop to finish Purple Rain. On March 23, he created a new configuration of the album that slipped a short version of “Father’s Song” as the middle groove on “Computer Blue.” Prince also included John Nelson in writing credits. The album was nearing completion, but it still needed work.

  He decided to keep the Apollonia 6 number “Take Me with U” for himself, and made room for it on Purple Rain by trimming “Computer Blue” even more. By April 14, Prince had assembled the final version of the soundtrack album. Everyone involved sensed its mix of hazy guitars, arena-rock choruses, discordant melodies, upbeat chants, bitter love songs, and religious subtexts would take him to the top. Though usually his own worst critic, “Prince knew this was going to be it,” Rogers noted.

  On May 16, Warner released “When Doves Cry” backed with the song “17 Days.” The single quickly became his first No. 1. It topped the chart for five weeks, becoming the year’s biggest-selling
single. Time noted that “When Doves Cry” was the first song since “Billie Jean” to reach No. 1 “simultaneously on the pop, black, and dance charts.” And soon, the B-side was just as popular on radio playlists.

  After producing three side projects as “Jamie Starr,” Prince felt he had established himself well enough to justify having his own label. He had his managers negotiate with Warner, and the label agreed to distribute it, so he moved on to considering a first signing.

  Recently, his bassist Mark Brown confessed that he had been moonlighting with Mazarati, a new seven-piece Minneapolis band that played funk and hard-edged rock. During shows, behind a mask, Mark called himself “The Shadow,” and played bass. In his Corvette one day with Mazarati’s guitarist, as Per Nilsen recounted, he worried Prince might catch him. “Just tell him!” the man blurted. “He’s gonna find out anyway. The worst thing he can do is want a piece of it or tell you to stop.” After Mark told him, Prince attended some of their shows. Now when Mark brought the band over to the warehouse for rehearsals, Prince joined in. He decided he would sign them to his new label once the moment was right.

  June 4, Warner released Sheila E.’s The Glamorous Life with credits that said it was “directed” by Sheila E. and The Starr Company. Prince’s name was nowhere on it, but people gossiped that Prince wrote, played on, and produced everything. At any rate, her conga-and-horn-heavy title track entered the Top 10 Pop and Black Singles Charts and stayed on the radio that summer.

  With the movie complete, Morris Day moved from Minneapolis to LA. He wanted a solo deal with Warner and a career in movies. Prince was beside himself. They needed Morris to help promote the new film, and The Time’s latest album Ice Cream Castles. Bandmates reached out and persuaded Day to join them in a video for their lead single, “Ice Cream Castles.” And during this shoot, everyone was relieved to hear Day say he’d soon return for rehearsals. But back in Santa Monica, Day called Pepe Willie to claim Prince’s actions were adversely affecting his plans for a solo career. Pepe flew out west for a visit.

  The Time kept trying to woo Morris back, to no avail, so Jesse got his wish, according to Prince. Jesse became group leader. But Johnson already had mixed feelings about the pay and workload. And like Jam and Lewis, he wanted creative control. He, too, considered leaving.

  Prince was thinking about his twenty-sixth birthday that June. After playing a show, Prince joined a crowd of guests in a sculptor’s studio. Everything was purple: the plates, cups, decorations, napkins; even the big musical notes placed on a tall wedding cake. But instead of a plastic bride and groom, someone tucked a copy of the “When Doves Cry” single into its top.

  That night, Prince was happy to see his mother Mattie and stepfather Heyward in the room. He also saw André Cymone and Bernadette. A crowd of locals listlessly sang “Happy Birthday” Prince assured them that he loved them but Greg Linder, music editor of the local alternative weekly newspaper City Pages, felt “it was an exchange in a show-biz vacuum, with a community that ignored him until he invented Prince.”

  A day later, Prince slipped into a black shawl and sunglasses and went to the Black Music Awards at The Prom Center. With Morris gone, Jesse Johnson led The Time in a performance of “Jungle Love.” After their performance, Prince took the stage to accept an award for “Most Valuable Player” in R&B. Prince saw Mazarati take the stage and receive more cheers than The Time. “He needed someone to take the place of The Time,” said a band member. Prince had his lawyers draw up a contract and hand it to his bass player Mark Brown. He’d sign them to his new label Paisley Park.

  Recently, Prince had been enjoying the song “Hero Takes A Fall,” from the white group The Bangles’ Columbia debut All Over the Place. He called a band member to say, “I’ve got a couple of songs for you. I’d like to know if you’re interested.” Prince offered the Vanity 6 outtake “Jealous Girl” but they rejected it. So now, he passed them “Manic Monday” “He had a demo that was very specifically him,” member Vicki Peterson remembered as Nilsen reported. Prince offered the song when Warner already had Apollonia 6’s version on advance copy cassettes of their album. But The Bangles wanted it, so Prince told them to credit it to “Christopher.” Then he told Warner the song wouldn’t be on Apollonia 6 after all.

  The album was set for release. Warner could have blown their tops. Instead, they quietly, patiently removed the number.

  In early June 1984, Prince had his managers call Lisa’s brother David Coleman. David, who joined Lisa in the group Waldorf Salad on A&M, had also played cello on a few things during the past year. “We’re representing Prince,” a manager said. “He wishes you a Happy Birthday and he’s giving you two days lockout at Sunset Sound.” Lockout meant twenty-four hours of time. In the studio, David quickly recorded “Around the World in a Day,” a new song inspired by the high school sweetheart from Beirut that inspired him to learn Arabic. During his sessions, David played a groove with the usual instruments. But he also used an Arabic guitar, the oud, a Darbuka drum, and finger cymbals. Pleased with the results, David passed the tape to relatives. Lisa soon played it for Prince. Its childlike sound and psychedelic flavor excited him. He said, “Oh, my God, listen to that chorus.” Prince wanted to cover it. And when he ran into David at a concert, he raved. This was what he wanted to try Prince added.

  12

  ANOTHER LONELY CHRISTMAS

  WARNER WAS ABOUT TO RELEASE THE TIME’S THIRD ALBUM, Ice Cream Castles. Since Day’s departure, the new Time lineup with Jesse singing had played only one show. They sat around the warehouse, growing restless. One day without warning, Prince entered and faced them all. “Morris is gone. But I’m going to start a new band, and you’re going to be the lead singer.” He pointed at a flummoxed young newcomer, Paul Peterson.

  But Jesse Johnson didn’t think having a white musician take over as The Time’s lead singer would work. And so Johnson, who had been with the band since its inception, left. Jerry Hubbard and Mark Cardenas went with him. The Time was over.

  But Prince was unfazed. He told the remaining members they’d still form a new band called The Family. Peterson (renamed St. Paul) would be front man and bassist. Jellybean Johnson and Jerome Benton would reprise their Time roles as drummer and backup singer. His current girlfriend Susannah, Wendy’s twin, would share lead vocals and play keyboard.

  Then in late June, he made another personnel decision. He attended Bruce Springsteen’s concert at the St. Paul Civic Center, part of Springsteen’s Born in the USA Tour, and saw black saxophonist Clarence Clemmons take center stage during many numbers. “Prince went backstage to talk with Bruce and Clarence Clemmons,” said Eric Leeds. “The idea of having a horn player may have sparked something in him.”

  Eric Leeds played sax. And his brother Alan already worked for Prince. “He auditioned for Sheila’s band and Prince heard his demo tape,” Alan explained. But Eric wasn’t a huge Prince fan. He was “more of a jazz head,” and in no rush to join The Family. While his brother Alan spent weeks convincing him to come—recalling, “It took a while”—Prince entered the warehouse to start creating The Family’s debut. Susan Rogers engineered. “He was excited and wrote the basic tracks very, very fast,” she said.

  June 25, 1984, five weeks after “When Doves Cry” Warner shipped the album Purple Rain, “Apollonia and I slept under a hotel table waiting for the reviews of [the album],” he claimed. “We were so excited we couldn’t sleep. When we saw them, they were all good.” Rolling Stone’s Kurt Loder heard echoes of Jimi Hendrix in the guitar riff that ended “Let’s Go Crazy,” the opening of “When Doves Cry,” and the title track, which evoked Jimi’s “Angel” and included “a very Hendrixian lyrical tinge (‘It’s time we all reach out for something new—that means you, too’).”

  More than just critics were pleased. Warner was delighted. It took almost four years for Dirty Mind to reach the half-million sales mark (it did so in June 1984). And two years for 1999—still on the charts at this point—to sell over 2.5
million. But Purple Rain matched 1999’s sales within weeks. A larger audience in fact would keep the album at No. 1 for six months.

  Suddenly, Prince was in the full spotlight. Many questioned his relationship with Apollonia. But their working rapport had seen better days. He wanted her to eat what he did, she said (“often just candy and tea,” a reporter claimed). She had to stop seeing Van Halen’s lead singer David Lee Roth. One night, in her motel room, she found a Bible, opened to a Scripture he wanted her to study. “He wanted to make everyone clones of himself,” she later told People magazine. Reporters meanwhile claimed she was his latest sexy girlfriend. “He made me promise I wouldn’t date anyone publicly during promotion of the film,” she continued in People. Asked if they were dating, she coyly replied, “I never kiss and tell.” Another time, while speaking to Ebony, she said, “He loves his women but music comes first. He is married to his music and no woman can compete with that.”

  In July 1984, Warner Bros. invited critics and studio employees to an advance afternoon screening of the long-awaited film Purple Rain, The soundtrack had already sold almost 2.5 million copies. “This is serious business,” Time noted. And Hollywood gossip said Purple Rain would make him a star.