Prince

  He also threw himself into his video for “Te Amo Corazón,” hiring renowned actress Salma Hayek (of Frida) to direct, then traveling to a huge Spanish-style house in Marrakesh, Morocco. There, Hayek filmed him standing by a big sun-filled window; walking through a big Spanish-style home; playing his purple guitar while lying in a bed covered with silky sheets and rose petals. She added footage of Motorcycle Diaries actress Mia Maestro playing his love interest as she walked around the house, and called it a day.

  His next promotional move was a December 13 press conference in Los Angeles, where he showed reporters his new video, sang Hayek’s praise, but noted the dainty ballad didn’t reflect 3121’s sound. Then various Universal Music Group chiefs joined in promoting the clip, with a statement announcing a historic premiere on VHI, broadband channels, and a new mobile telephone service by Verizon.

  As December continued, Prince saw new protege Tamar sign her deal with Universal Republic. The label wanted Milk & Honey to include “Beautiful, Loved, and Blessed,” which she co-wrote and helped sing. They also wanted it as her lead single. To everyone’s surprise, Prince offered no objection and even planned to tour with her, as a guitar-wielding sideman, until the label released her work on August 29.

  It was clear that his recent successes had brought about a change of heart—or at least a change of methods—in the once-combative Prince.

  As part of The Tamar Presentation Tour, he stood to the side of the stage, letting her croon her title track, his new twin dancers shimmy and shake, and a disc jockey scratch vinyl records on turntables. He also stood near her while she sang “Every Little Step.” Soon, they sang together the amorous duets “Red Headed Stepchild,” and “Beautiful, Loved, and Blessed.” Suddenly they were all over the media—at February’s BRIT Awards, on Saturday Night Live, during his first appearance on the show in twenty-five years. The tour raised both of their profiles and paved the way for their upcoming works.

  Finally, it was time to promote 3121. Three days after Saturday Night Live, Prince greeted reporters at the big house in Beverly Hills and played the new album.

  Barney Hoskyns, who once joined Prince on the bygone 1999 Tour, attended. But he viewed “Alphabet St.” off of 1988’s Lovesexy as “his last truly great pop song.” Instead of great pop music, Hoskyns saw Prince seemingly pour his energy into a protracted campaign against Warner, when he took to writing “Slave” on his face. “I thought the whole thing was pretty grotesque,” said Hoskyns, “though we’re all now aware of just how exploitative the record industry has been.”

  In his rented mansion, Prince didn’t address Hoskyns, who took his spot in the crowd. As the new album played, Hoskyns didn’t think much of 3121 (or much of his output since the 1980s, “though there were some good things on Emancipation”). If anything, Hoskyns wondered where Prince had gone wrong, and kept returning to two possible answers. Either “He ran out of creative juice, like most people do,” or “He alienated just about anyone who was good for him.” Either way, Hoskyns felt Prince was now coasting on past achievements. This new 3121, he decided, seemed “pitched at the mainstream.” Some songs sounded like “Prince on autopilot,” but a few moments proved “there’s still fire in the guy’s belly.”

  When it finished, Prince mounted an improvised stage with his band. Once more, he stood to one side while Tamar and the Twinz performed. When he stepped forward, it was to say that their music contained no samples. He advanced once more when a song required the kind of feral guitar solo at which Prince excelled. When the show ended at 3:00 A.M., the crowd reacted with “mild bemusement since Prince did very little apart from play guitar in the background,” Hoskyns noted. Hoskyns himself was surprised. Twenty years ago, Prince would have played until dawn. Now, he thanked everyone for coming, left the ballroom, and hit the sack.

  Warner Bros. Records meanwhile chose this moment to exercise its right to release one last Prince album. Part of the April 1996 agreement that freed him from his obligation to Warner allowed the label to put out two compilations of material he recorded as their artist. Five years ago, Warner had released the first, their single-disc The Very Best of Prince, which Nielsen SoundScan had down as selling 1.2 million copies in the United States. Now, Warner believed—after Musicology renewed interest in his activities—something called Ultimate Prince could do just as well and end the deal.

  This time around, though, rather than put a staff producer on the collection, Warner recruited hard-core fans Geoffrey Dicker and Mathieu Bitton as creative consultants. Both wanted the best collection for hard-core fans and casual listeners alike. A Prince fan since hearing “Controversy” at age four, Geoffrey Dicker created a list of forty songs, a mix of original album versions, and remixes for singles that never appeared on CD. Warner and Rhino executives were enthusiastic, so Dicker considered how the songs would appear. After “Purple Medley,” listeners would hear three album cuts, three twelve-inch mixes (including “Erotic City”), three more album cuts, then three remixes. Disc 2 would be similar, he figured, starting with a longer “Kiss.” They could end the two-hour, twenty-two-track retrospective with “My Name Is Prince,” his voice shouting the title.

  Mathieu Bitton meanwhile worked for design firm Candy Tangerine. At age ten, Bitton started collecting Prince albums. He was thirteen when he paid fifteen hundred dollars for a copy of the original pressing of The Black Album. Ten years later, Bitton had gotten rid of many items but still had a staggering and costly collection of Prince memorabilia. His design for Warner’s Up from the Catacombs: The Best of Jane’s Addiction inspired the invitation onto this project. “I was as shocked as could be,” Bitton said of Warner’s call. “I didn’t know there was a Prince project in the works.” Nevertheless, Bitton quickly accepted, and searched Warner’s photo archives for shots to include in liner notes. Bitton also carried a mere tenth of his Prince records to a meeting with Warner and Rhino, where stunned executives decided to include a photo of the collection in liner notes. After the photo shoot, Bitton worked for a month on the album’s design, toying with a white background and the classic pointy-edged letters from the Purple Rain logo.

  Then Warner invited Prince to provide input. Despite public jibes against the label, complaints about master tapes, and much talk of how life and earnings improved after leaving Warner, Prince agreed to be involved. (Even more surprising to his longtime followers: He didn’t back out.)

  Prince decided “Erotic City” and “Sexy MF” shouldn’t appear. He also wanted original-album cuts on one disc, and remixes on another. “I don’t know why Prince wanted them split out, but he did, and Warner Brothers and Rhino appeased him with that,” said Dicker.

  February 2, Billboard reported, “A week before Prince’s new NPG Music Club/Universal album, 3121, hits stores on March 21, Rhino will unveil a two-disc collection of remastered hits and remixes.”

  When fans learned of the new Warner album, some accused Warner on online message boards of trying to cash in by releasing its compilation just a week before the new album. Regardless, the label began the sort of aggressive push Prince always said he wanted. Ads for the Best Buy chain mentioned it. Record stores nationwide also publicized it. There were television commercials. Some fans ordered copies from Amazon or in stores like Barnes & Noble. Bitton was thrilled. “This was like, no pun intended, the ultimate project for me,” he told PopMatters.com. Dicker told the site he was just as elated. “It’s like being a die-hard fan for all these years has paid off.”

  March 1, Tamar’s tour reached Philadelphia’s Electric Factory. But Prince kept thinking about Warner’s Ultimate Prince arriving a week before his own new 3121. It was only days before the release now: Warner had already shipped promotional copies—which supposedly included his anti-rap “Dead On It”—to a few stores. Customers there had already snatched up some of these.

  Nevertheless, Prince asked Warner, at the last moment, to delay the album.

  In a remarkable act of conciliation, Warner agreed, Bit
ton told Pop-Matters. com, “to honor Prince’s wishes.” Warner could have stood its ground, “could have said, ‘Hey, we’re putting it out. We don’t care,’” Bitton continued. “But they really have respect for Prince, and I hope he sees that.” Warner asked retailers to return their copies.

  The cancellation devastated its creators, PopMatters.com quoted Dicker as saying. “We had the release date for Ultimate long before Prince had the date for 3121,” said Dicker. “And then it kind of came out looking like Warner was riding on the coattails of that, and in reality it was just a really bad coincidence.”

  In March, some fans searched in vain for Ultimate Prince. Coincidentally or not, Prince had his site offer a deluge of material. Then, March 21, Universal had 3121 in stores. Most critics called it his best album since the eighties. The LA Times wrote, “Uneven? No question.” But it was entertaining. The New York Times called it “a friendly, happy, concise album.” Billboard heard “a testament to the singer’s versatility and musicianship.” Blender said, “The minimalist tracks rate among his best.” Other reviewers were more critical. Entertainment Weekly heard “his umpteenth disappointment” and “a messier, more self-indulgent affair than its predecessor.” The public however loved it. Within a week, they bought 183,000 copies, making 3121 his very first work to debut at No. 1, and his first chart-topper since 1989’s Batman.

  At Rhino, executives scrapped another release date (May 22) for Ultimate, leaving many fans wondering if it’d ever see the light of day. Prince meanwhile faced another personal setback. May 24, the Minneapolis Star Tribune reported, Manuela, his wife of five years, filed for divorce in Hennepin County. Reporter Cheryl Johnson called her publicist for an interview. In response, she heard, “She’s leaving for vacation for the next month. A nice long vacation out of the country, actually.” And the divorce file, Johnson learned, was sealed.

  Manuela and Prince never publicly revealed why they divorced. But People later quoted Prince’s personal lawyer as saying it wasn’t something Prince wanted. It was Manuela’s choice. Prince was as tightlipped as usual about this personal development, and his reaction to it seemed to be none at all. He let his attorney know he wouldn’t contest it; worked to keep details out of the media; ignored rumors that claimed he and Tamar were romantically involved; and slowly distanced himself from attempts to land Tamar a new record deal (since Universal dropped her after he left the label, following the release of 3121). With Manuela moving forward with the divorce, Prince had to find another place to live. He also wanted to keep working, maintaining the momentum caused by two well-received comeback albums. He turned his eye toward Las Vegas—a solution, he felt, to both dilemmas.

  Prince’s singles and videos continued to do good business with specific audiences: the Latin-tinged ballad “Te Amo Corazón,” his soul anthem “Black Sweat” and, in the UK, the rock-styled “Fury.” Radio deejays also received a promo copy of “Beautiful, Loved, and Blessed” credited to Tamar.

  Prince himself kept promoting the new album, appearing on the season finale of the high-rated TV talent show American Idol, playing the Empire Ballroom in Las Vegas with Tamar, performing with her on ABC’s Good Morning America, in June, and having her join him again at the sixth annual BET Awards in Los Angeles. His online fan club thrilled at every exploit until—he offered another disruption.

  July 4, at midnight, Prince unexpectedly ended his five-year-old NPG Music Club site, explaining it couldn’t progress further in its current form. It happened the same day British company HM Publishing (owners of Nature Publishing Group, also known as NPG) filed an opposition to the NPG trademark. His lawyer said the events were unrelated.

  By now, large segments of Prince’s hard-core following viewed Warner Bros. Records as the villain in the Prince story. It came as a surprise to them when, that same July, Warner and Prince actually worked together again. The company’s film studio was finishing Happy Feet, a four-year-in-the-making computer-animated film about a dancing penguin. Alan Horn, president and chief operating officer of Warner Brothers, got the ball rolling by telling director George Miller, “Look, let’s get great music.” After sifting through countless songs, they chose “Kiss,” for voice-over stars Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman to perform as a duet. But they didn’t want Kidman singing, “You don’t have to be rich to be my girl.” They wanted to change it to “pearl.” When they asked permission, however, Prince said, “No, you’re not gonna change my lyrics,” Miller recalled. Warner executives Gary LeMel and Gary Hinkman urged him to see the film. He’d see it fit. “Well, show me the movie,” Prince replied. The executives and Miller brought it to Minneapolis. Prince watched a rough cut, Miller recalled, probably the first person to see the whole thing. Near the finale, Prince mounted the viewing room stage, lifted a guitar he had nearby, and strummed, seeking a chord. “Give me two weeks,” he said.

  Miller asked, “What?”

  “I’m going to write a song for it. I don’t want any money.” They could also change the lyrics. Miller was stunned and touched. The soundtrack and film included “Kiss” as part of a medley, near Elvis Presley’s “Heartbreak Hotel,” and his new “The Song of the Heart.” On August 1, Miller was heard bragging to a reporter about Prince’s involvement.

  At last, his long relationship with Warner Bros. Records came to a quiet end. August 22, 2006, five months after 3121’s release, and its own original release date, Warner released Ultimate Prince on its Rhino subsidiary. But instead of a glorious end to their historic teaming, the twenty-eight-cut set sat on shelves, barely mentioned by the media. After their aborted attempt at promoting the daylights out of it in March, Warner had seemingly washed its hands of what one reporter called an “end-of-summer dump of the hits package.” It came and went so quickly, casual fans barely knew it existed.

  47

  LIFE CAN BE SO NICE

  FEBRUARY 1, 2007, AT LEAST FIVE HUNDRED REPORTERS PACKED the conference room at the Miami Beach Convention center, for the “Pepsi Super Bowl Halftime Show Press Conference.” As a vindication of his comeback, Prince found himself invited to headline the event.

  Prince was determined to give fans something they had never seen before.

  At the press conference, in a bright orange, Jimi Hendrix-like suit with flared pants, Prince mounted the stage, and grabbed the microphone. “Contrary to rumor, I’d like to take a few questions now.” Someone started asking one. Prince half-turned, cutting him off with a loud guitar riff. Facing the crowd again, he smiled as if in disbelief at the fact he got away with that. He started playing “Johnny B. Goode” with two sexy women in men’s dress shirts, The Twinz, on either side of him. Then he leaped into “Anotherloverholenyohead”—with its fiery solos—before ending with his lesser-known “Get on the Boat.” Before anyone could ask a question, Prince said, “Thank you. See you at the Super Bowl. Peace.” He left.

  “I think he’s brilliant,” fellow Super Bowl performer Billy Joel told a reporter. “He’s one of the most talented people in the industry today.”

  February 4, the day of the big game, it rained. But it let up by the time Prince walked toward the awesome -shaped stage in Miami’s Pro Player Stadium. In his orange and turquoise suit, he held his guitar and prepared to play for 74,512 people in the stands and the biggest audience of his life—140 million TV viewers worldwide. Later, the media would report it was also the third most-watched program in American history (93 million households watching).

  On the field, the well-rehearsed Florida A&M University Marching Band wore luminous purple on their uniforms. Prince took the stage for eleven or twelve memorable minutes. He surprised audiences with “All Along the Watchtower,” sections from Ike and Tina Turner’s “Proud Mary,” and the Foo Fighters’ “The Best of You.” He also played Purple Rain classics “Let’s Go Crazy,” and “Baby I’m a Star.” Instead of mugging for the camera, Prince interacted with the crowd and included many heavy guitar riffs. Tossing his black head rag aside, Prince asked, “Don’t it
feel good?” The rain started again but he kept playing. Even the most skeptical could be nothing but amazed by what Prince delivered. He closed with “Purple Rain,” violet lights outlining his body and -shaped guitar.

  In the stands, the audience held flashlights they had received beforehand, aiming them at the stage. Many sang along, the crowd riveted by every note. Critics shared the sentiment. One called it “arguably the best halftime show in Super Bowl history.” Another said it was “one of the best ever.”

  The show more than doubled Prince’s album sales, Billboard reported. At Amazon.com, people bought more copies of The Hits/B-Sides, The Hits 2, Ultimate Prince, and 3121. But Warner’s The Very Best of Prince experienced the biggest leap in sales, going from No. 999 to 38 on Amazon’s “Top Sellers” list.

  Alan Leeds, who had been by Prince’s side for decades, was no less impressed. Already he thought Prince’s marketing of Musicology and the tour were brilliant. Now he called Prince’s decision to play Super Bowl XLI “equally stellar. He took what had been a disaster for Janet Jackson and a dismal nonevent for the Rolling Stones and turned in a landmark appearance that will be remembered for years to come.” Prince hadn’t had a certifiable hit album in years, but still had the world viewing him as a star and a force.

  “If that isn’t successful strategy,” Leeds added, “I don’t know what is.”