I'm literally a lifelong Prince fan. I was 11 going on 12 in the summer of '84 when my Aunt Cathy took me and my cousins Darlene and Stacy to see "Purple Rain." From the moment that the opening scene of The Revolution performing "Let's Go Crazy" came onscreen, I was an instant convert.
It's ironic that Prince - a clean-living vegan who shunned all recreational drugs - reportedly died of an overdose of opioid medication that was originally prescribed for hip injuries. To paraphrase one Rolling Stone reporter: Prince personified complexity and contradiction.
There are numerous anti-drug messages in Prince's music that made young people like me who grew up idolizing him adopt drug-free lifestyles:
"What you puttin' in your nose?/Is that where all your money goes/The river of addiction flows," Prince sings in a chastising tone in "Pop Life" from the '85 "Around the World in a Day" album.
At the beginning of '88's "Lovesexy" album he declares, "The reason why my voice is so clear is because there's no smack in my brain."
Prince's alleged addiction to prescription painkillers doesn't make me think any less of him. We all have compulsive behaviors and habits we can't seem to shake.
The older I get, the more I realize that my heroes aren't superhuman. But Prince seemed like the closest thing to it: energetic, slim and fit, and rocking a full head of hair - not a fleck of gray - up until the day he died.
I was privileged to see Prince perform many times. The last time I saw him was in July 2014 at the Essence Festival in New Orleans to mark the 30th anniversary of "Purple Rain." Even then, he was a seemingly inexhaustible spark plug of funk. He wasn't doing the splits or jumping off pianos anymore, but he still played a mean guitar and worked the stage with the youthful exuberance of a teenager.
A selfie I took in the New Orleans Superdome during Prince's July 2014 concert. |
I'm hoping that Prince's abrupt death will spark not only a dialogue, but some kind of legislative action about the need for better alternatives for those dealing with chronic pain. In the meantime, we'll continue to jam to his music and party like it's 1999.
It's a cliché, but Prince's music has truly been the soundtrack of my life. There are so many things in my life
and work that Prince has influenced. As Questlove said in a moving tribute, I modeled my entire life after Prince.
When I was preparing to release my debut novel "The Chloe Chronicles" and found model Veronica Seitz to pose for the cover, I mused that Veronica is like a "Prince girl": an exotically beautiful woman whom Prince would groom for stardom, hand a microphone and place onstage in a lacy outfit.
And I've buried Prince-inspired "Easter eggs" (hidden messages) in several of my other works. In the final scene of my play, "The Springtime of Our Lives," when the Bennett family is about to attend Easter Sunday church service, the character Denise comments on the beautiful weather: "Springtime's always been my favorite time of year."
That line is taken directly from Prince's haunting ballad "Sometimes It Snows In April" from the '86 "Parade" album.
There were several occasions when I almost met Prince. In the summer of 2002, I attended a fan gathering at his Paisley Park compound in Minneapolis. After a typically mind-blowing jam session that extended into the wee hours of the morning, Prince announced from the stage that the entire audience was invited to join him to see the Tom Cruise movie "Minority Report" at a local movie theater.
I figured this was one of Prince's infamous practical jokes and instead went back to my hotel room to crash. But the news later reported that Prince did, indeed, treat 200 people to see the movie and bought everyone popcorn, candy and soda pop.
On another occasion in the early 2000s, I was standing in line outside Paisley Park, waiting to get in to see the Minneapolis Mozart perform. I looked up to see a shadowy figure that resembled the mysterious Mr. Nelson overlooking the crowd from a second-story window. Prince noticed me spying him in a private moment and turned and walked away.
On yet another occasion, Prince came to perform in my hometown of Columbus, Ohio, in 1998. As was his wont, he invited the audience to an after-party at a nightclub. I happened to be standing near the backstage area at the now-defunct downtown nightclub Mecca as Prince approached the stage. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
All of Prince's "subjects" whom I've had the pleasure of interacting with have been warm, friendly and accessible. I'd like to think Prince would have been the same if I'd had the chance to know him.
Since Prince's death, radio stations and music lovers all over the world have been rediscovering his classic hits. But as for me and other lifelong fans, we've never stopped playing his music.
Hardly a day has gone by since that fateful summer of 1984 when I first saw "Purple Rain" that I haven't played a song Prince wrote and produced for himself or someone else.
This past Sunday, June 5, realizing Prince's birthday was coming up, I decided to start listening to all of his 39 albums in sequential order, starting with his 1978 debut, "For You." So far, I'm up to 1980's "Dirty Mind."
What is my favorite Prince album? I'd have to say "Lovesexy." Maybe it's because the theatrical "Lovesexy" tour was the first time I saw him live, journeying to Cincinnati's Riverfront Coliseum with my high school friend Michele Burr (whom I'm happy to call a close friend to this day).
The song "Anna Stesia" from "Lovesexy" is one of my all-time favorite Prince songs. The lyrics of the dramatic ballad depict Prince's lifelong struggle to reconcile his sexuality and his spirituality. The song also documents his brave decision to take the road less traveled and follow his heart in a fickle industry where you're only as good as your last hit.
These lyrics from "Anna Stesia" represent what Prince's genius means to me: "Music late/nothing great/no way to differentiate/I took a chance..."
Prince was a once-in-a-lifetime artist and human being who will never be forgotten. One of his favorite sayings - written in that unique symbol language that he adopted long before texting was invented - was "May u live 2 see the dawn."
For myself and the millions of others who will continue to adore and treasure him, the dawn has broken. Prince's spirit, his music and his legacy will live on.
When I was preparing to release my debut novel "The Chloe Chronicles" and found model Veronica Seitz to pose for the cover, I mused that Veronica is like a "Prince girl": an exotically beautiful woman whom Prince would groom for stardom, hand a microphone and place onstage in a lacy outfit.
"Chloe" cover girl Veronica Seitz. |
And I've buried Prince-inspired "Easter eggs" (hidden messages) in several of my other works. In the final scene of my play, "The Springtime of Our Lives," when the Bennett family is about to attend Easter Sunday church service, the character Denise comments on the beautiful weather: "Springtime's always been my favorite time of year."
That line is taken directly from Prince's haunting ballad "Sometimes It Snows In April" from the '86 "Parade" album.
There were several occasions when I almost met Prince. In the summer of 2002, I attended a fan gathering at his Paisley Park compound in Minneapolis. After a typically mind-blowing jam session that extended into the wee hours of the morning, Prince announced from the stage that the entire audience was invited to join him to see the Tom Cruise movie "Minority Report" at a local movie theater.
I figured this was one of Prince's infamous practical jokes and instead went back to my hotel room to crash. But the news later reported that Prince did, indeed, treat 200 people to see the movie and bought everyone popcorn, candy and soda pop.
On another occasion in the early 2000s, I was standing in line outside Paisley Park, waiting to get in to see the Minneapolis Mozart perform. I looked up to see a shadowy figure that resembled the mysterious Mr. Nelson overlooking the crowd from a second-story window. Prince noticed me spying him in a private moment and turned and walked away.
On yet another occasion, Prince came to perform in my hometown of Columbus, Ohio, in 1998. As was his wont, he invited the audience to an after-party at a nightclub. I happened to be standing near the backstage area at the now-defunct downtown nightclub Mecca as Prince approached the stage. I smiled at him and he smiled back.
And there was the time in March 2005 when I was covering the NAACP Image Awards in Los Angeles for the Call and Post Newspaper. I was in line to pick up my press pass when I noticed a short man dressed in a mustard-colored suit getting out of a limo - none other than His Royal Badness!
As Prince sauntered by me in his trademark heels, we made eye contact. I could have offered my hand and simply said, "Hi. My name's Chris and I'm a huge fan." But I was too shy and afraid one of his bodyguards would have had me thrown out for approaching the notoriously enigmatic star.
As Prince sauntered by me in his trademark heels, we made eye contact. I could have offered my hand and simply said, "Hi. My name's Chris and I'm a huge fan." But I was too shy and afraid one of his bodyguards would have had me thrown out for approaching the notoriously enigmatic star.
Although I didn't get an opportunity to meet Prince, I've been blessed to meet people who knew him well, including Sheila E., Wendy and Lisa and Revolution band mates Brown Mark, Matt Fink and Bobby Rivkin, and "Purple Rain" co-stars Apollonia Kotero and Jill Jones (who has a great new dance album titled "I Am").
I also interviewed Vanity 6 lead singer Denise Matthews (aka Vanity), who passed away in February, not long before Prince, her former boyfriend. I wrote a cover story on Denise's transformation from "vamp" to Christian evangelist in Purpose Magazine. When speaking with Prince's ex, I reverted to a middle-school fanboy, later boasting to friends and family that Vanity called me at home!
Me, Sheila E. and her dad Pete Escovedo at the Conga Room nightclub in L.A. in March 2002. |
Since Prince's death, radio stations and music lovers all over the world have been rediscovering his classic hits. But as for me and other lifelong fans, we've never stopped playing his music.
Hardly a day has gone by since that fateful summer of 1984 when I first saw "Purple Rain" that I haven't played a song Prince wrote and produced for himself or someone else.
This past Sunday, June 5, realizing Prince's birthday was coming up, I decided to start listening to all of his 39 albums in sequential order, starting with his 1978 debut, "For You." So far, I'm up to 1980's "Dirty Mind."
What is my favorite Prince album? I'd have to say "Lovesexy." Maybe it's because the theatrical "Lovesexy" tour was the first time I saw him live, journeying to Cincinnati's Riverfront Coliseum with my high school friend Michele Burr (whom I'm happy to call a close friend to this day).
The song "Anna Stesia" from "Lovesexy" is one of my all-time favorite Prince songs. The lyrics of the dramatic ballad depict Prince's lifelong struggle to reconcile his sexuality and his spirituality. The song also documents his brave decision to take the road less traveled and follow his heart in a fickle industry where you're only as good as your last hit.
These lyrics from "Anna Stesia" represent what Prince's genius means to me: "Music late/nothing great/no way to differentiate/I took a chance..."
Prince was a once-in-a-lifetime artist and human being who will never be forgotten. One of his favorite sayings - written in that unique symbol language that he adopted long before texting was invented - was "May u live 2 see the dawn."
For myself and the millions of others who will continue to adore and treasure him, the dawn has broken. Prince's spirit, his music and his legacy will live on.
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ReplyDeleteNice tribute piece Chris! Love me some Prince!! I was at that Cincy show too! I saw him play there twice!
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