1987, Part 1: It’s A Madhouse
Some Musings On Temporal Matters
As will become evident in the next few weeks, there are always two layers to any conversation about Prince’s (or any prolific artist’s) artistic development. There is the “era” of work in terms of when the work was put before the public, and the “era” in which the work was produced. When talking about Prince’s work released in 1987, it is very important to highlight that difference.
This week, I will be talking about the two albums released under the name Madhouse. When juxtaposed, the albums called “8” and “16” may highlight the importance of that difference between era of release and era of production more than any other albums in Prince’s catalog. The first album, released in January 1987, shows Prince struggling to find a new kind of sound in absence of the firm sonic foundation he had grown accustomed to the Revolution providing, and the second album, released in November 1987, is a raucous celebration of Prince having found that new direction. Both, in my opinion, are fantastic albums, but they are as different as night and day, in spite of their names and packaging suggesting one is simply a continuation of the other. If anything, the second album is a more confident restatement of what the first album was merely an attempt to capture.
As jazz albums, they are both failures. They end up sounding more like an updated version of Booker T. & The Mgs' style. But seriously, they both kind of rule.
In Celebration of Eric Leeds
The entertainment industry is a strange place where you usually can’t get ahead without both an enormous amount of hard work and an equal amount of luck. It really is true that most often who you know is as important as what you can do. Eric Leeds’ brother Alan was Prince’s tour manager on the Purple Rain tour and he continued in important administrative roles for many years, including running Paisley Park Records during its heyday.
When Prince expressed interest in a saxophonist to supplement the Revolution, Alan gave Prince some tapes of his brother Eric’s work, and the rest is history.
Eric Leeds was an is largely a freelance sax and flute player with a particular focus on jazz fusion, which was exactly what Prince was looking for in the mid-80’s. They hit it off, and Leeds was a sort of “Prince camp associate” for most of the rest of Prince’s life. His period of greatest involvement in Prince’s work was from 1986-1989 or so, and the highlight of this was when he and Prince went into the studio to create the Madhouse albums.
Single art for "6"
The entire album “8” was recorded from 28 September to 1 October 1987. The songs appear on the album in almost the same order they were recorded at Prince’s Galpin Blvd home studio. It seems likely the songs did not actually receive names at the time they were recorded, and were simply assigned numbers as the album was sequenced.
There are few times in Prince’s life that were more productive than 1986-1987. There were several reasons for this, chief among them being the need to get a new band together to fill the gap left by the Revolution’s disbanding, but even before then, Prince worked feverishly with Wendy and Lisa, producing dozens of songs for several potential albums (which will be discussed next week). As 1986 drew to a close and Prince became more certain of his next direction, a desire to create a sound more rooted in jazz and funk emerged. This was probably spurred at least in part by the re-emergence of Miles Davis in the early 80’s.
Prince & Miles Davis. Still from the DVD release of the New Year's Eve 1987 performance at Paisley Park
Whatever Happened To Miles Davis?
In 1975, Miles Davis abruptly vanished from the music world. In fact, his addictions had overtaken him, and he barely picked up a trumpet for almost five years. When he finally got his drug use under control, he then had to work to get his embouchure to a point where he could control his trumpet again. In 1981 he released a new album, “The Man With the Horn” and over the course of several years, with a brief interlude in 1982 when a stroke paralyzed his right hand temporarily, he gradually came back to recording and performing.
Davis’ later work is often criticized for not being “Miles Davis” enough or trying to hard to adapt to the pop music landscape of the time, but this often ignores that these are the exact same criticism Davis had faced since 1968, when his second quintet broke up and he started his transition to electric instrumentation as he became one of the founders of jazz fusion. In fact, in hindsight, some of Davis’ most interesting work came from this period, although it is arguable these albums may not actually qualify as “jazz,” I’m reasonably sure Davis would be at best indifferent and most likely hostile to the suggestion that his work needed to fit the label of “jazz” in the first place.
Yes, This Is Still About A Prince Album
In any case, having a jazz pianist for a father and a dislike of labels for his own work, it seems natural for Prince to be drawn to Miles’ work in general and specifically interested in his iconoclastic works of the 80’s. I see “8” as Prince’s first foray into capturing Davis’ 80’s energy, especially as expressed in Davis’ albums “Decoy” and “You’re Under Arrest.”
To contemporary ears, some of the music on “8” can come across as a form of elevator music. This is a valid criticism, but I would argue that even if it is elevator music, it is such damn good elevator music it is more than worth a listen. Unfortunately, it’s not going to be easy to legally hear either Madhouse album. Until the Estate comes to its senses and re-releases these albums, CDs routinely go for $80-100 and vinyl copies can go to more than $300.
Another Busy Few Days At Paisley Park
Soon after the tour supporting “Sign O The Times” ended, the band immediately went to the recently-opened Paisley Park Studios to do extensive re-shoots for the concert film, and Prince took the opportunity to get Eric Leeds back into the studio, supplemented occasionally by Sheila E., Levi Seacer, Jr. and Dr. Fink to create another Madhouse album. It’s difficult to imagine recording this album while essentially simultaneously also shooting an unrelated film. The album that resulted is maybe Prince’s most underrated album.
While it follows the naming conventions of the prior album, in that the tracks are all named “Nine” through “Sixteen,” everything else is very different – apart from the reliance on Eric Leeds’ sax for melodic duties.
Single art for "13"
The band Prince had assembled for “Sign O The Times” had settled in well, and the tour had given Prince a much clearer idea of how he wanted his music to develop for the next few years. In terms of sound, “16” probably sounds more like “The Black Album” than anything else, although the absence of lyrical content in this album is very welcome compared to Prince’s legendary withdrawn album.
Again, I wish the Estate would reissue these albums, especially “16.” These really are hidden jems, even if “8” is what it is – cheesy quasi-jazz that flirts so hard with elevator music it’s going to get its face slapped. While Prince was alive, there was even less of a chance of a reissue. It would be amazing if I could evangelize properly for these projects but the truth is the best I could do would be inspire you to piracy, which I don’t want to do. Just keep an eye out for these albums in case they ever do make their way back into circulation.
NEXT WEEK: A strange one where I talk about the large number of albums that were assembled before finally “Sign O The Times” emerged
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