1984: The Revolution Begins
First of all, I’d like to apologize for missing the last two weeks. The truth is I had a last minute gig come up and I just could not find the time to write last week’s entry. And the one before that. Prince did a similar thing in 1983. From 1979 to 1997, Prince released music single every – except for 1983. He made up for it the next year. In 1984 the “Purple Rain” project produced the film itself, three albums by associated artists, Prince’s own album, and an enormous tour of the U.S. There would be other years in his life that would produce more material, plenty of years that would produce better material, and other times in his life where he would take far greater financial and artistic risks, but no other year would be as pivotal. The momentum generated by the phenomenon of “Purple Rain” would never fully dissipate, and would indeed make possible all those other times. To say the very least it was a busy year.
Some Notes On The Film
While on tour for “1999” Prince’s management reminded him that his contract with them was coming up for renewal. His reply was that he would like to re-sign, but would only do so if they could get him a movie deal. He specified it was to be a proper movie deal, with studio money. No South American drug money, no yuppies with more dollars than sense, but a real, proper film, with distribution secured, his name over the title, the lot. So his management, who had absolutely no experience making movies, set out to do what their star client wanted, and they succeeded.
When my career was a bit more adjacent to the movie industry, I would occasionally have to meet or speak to producers. Some of them were far more open, kind and friendly than you would expect, and some of them were as loathsome and slimy as the ogre who ran the studio in “Barton Fink.” One thing all of them said to me, no matter what kind of person they seemed to be, was “If you ever want to make a movie, never make it with your own money. Make it with someone else’s money.”
It’s damn good advice for a variety of reasons. If someone ever asked me for advice on how to make a film (spoilers: nobody would ever do that), I would pass on that advice. Prince’s management did not follow that advice. They secured what is called a “negative pickup deal.”
A regular movie works like this: Someone with the ear of a producer, studio or some other entity pitches a film. The producer (or other entity) says “Yes, that sounds like a film, here is the amount of money we think this film is worth to make.” Then the people who pitched the film go away and make it. Of course, movie financing is much more complicated than that, but you get the idea.
A negative pickup deal works like this: Someone with the ear of a producer, studio, or some other entity pitches a film. The producer (or other entity) says “Yes, that sounds like a film, this is the amount of money we think this film is worth to make…and we will be happy to give it to you after you have made the film. You give us the negative of your finished film and THEN we give you the money to make it.”
In other words, “Purple Rain” was made more with Prince’s own money than the studio’s money. If the film had not materialized or if Warner Bros. had rejected it for some reason, it would have been a massive financial loss for Prince that may well have buried him. It was, strictly speaking, not a smart way to get a film made. To be fair, it worked. However, if someone jumps out of a plane, crashes to the ground and walks away uninjured, that doesn’t make it a good idea to have jumped out of the plane in the first place.
If you are following this blog series, believe me, there really is no reason to track down and watch “Purple Rain.” It is what it is: a movie made by inexperienced people, in a compressed time frame at terrible risk. The music is far better than the film, and you’re not missing much by skipping it. In fact, since the movie semi-intentionally presents itself as biographical, you’re slightly better off not bothering to expose yourself to it.
Vanity Apollonia 6
“Purple Rain” was a fiction, but not a terribly elaborate one. Most of the planning, pre-production and writing happened during the tour for “1999” and so many of the ideas found in the film were based on the state of the Prince camp at that time. This meant that the story would essentially boil down to: Vanity comes to Minneapolis looking to launch her career as a singer and gets romantically involved with The Kid (Prince) and at the same time gets professionally involved with Morris, The Kid’s fierce rival in the local music scene. Melodrama ensues.
It made some sense as source material. Vanity was dating Prince during the tour, after all. Vanity 6’s album listed The Time as the backing band for the group, and Morris Day and Prince did have some of that kind of tension in their relationship. By the time “Purple Rain” went into production, however, two problems had arisen. First, the reality that Prince was behind all of these bands kind of spoiled the illusion the film was trying to create. Second, and much more problematic to the film, was the fact that Vanity had bailed on Prince both personally and professionally, so would not be in the film.
Why Vanity vamoosed is not completely clear. Matt Fink seems to think it had to do with money. She wanted more money for appearing in the film than Prince could afford, so she left. According to Morris Day, Lisa Coleman and several others, the implosion of Prince and Vanity’s romance caused her to leave. Possibly both are true, or either of those reasons could cause the other to spring into existence. Either way, Vanity needed to be replaced.
Singer and model Patricia Kotero was found, hired and hastily renamed Apollonia. She had exactly one job: replace Vanity, both in the movie and on the planned album. The resulting album is a bit of a mixed bag. “Sex Shooter” is the single featured in the film, and it is probably the track on the album that is most obviously originally intended for Vanity. The whole album is a bit unfocused, rushed and probably not what either Prince or Apollonia 6 wanted, but it sold reasonably well in any case, by virtue of being connected to “Purple Rain.”
Beyond the film itself, little promotion was done for “Apollonia 6.” Apollonia herself was very clear that her intention was to be in a movie, not to launch a Prince-centered musical career. Susan Moonsie still had no hope of singing live, anyway, so a tour was out of the question. Prince’s focus soon shifted away from these sorts of side projects, and since his imagination was the only thing holding the group together, the end was inevitable. As quickly as Prince had dreamed Vanity’s group into existence, Apollonia’s evaporated.
(We’re All) Ice Cream Castles In The Summer Time
I’m a fan of The Time’s third album. “Ice Cream Castle” is every bit as good as “The Time,” and in some cases it’s better. As a live band, the loss of Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis and Monte Moir (who quit the band in solidarity with Jam & Lewis) left The Time severely wounded. Of course, in the studio it was still just Morris and Prince, so the quality of the album was more or less unaffected.
The title track is particularly interesting: the arrangement and production prefigure a lot of the sounds and textures Prince would incorporate into albums released after 1986. Much of the album could be considered experimental in that regard.
Of course the main draws for this album for the contemporary listener are “Jungle Love” and “The Bird,” which are fantastic tracks. If you are unfamiliar with them, I suggest you run and not walk to your nearest streaming service and listen to them. In a very real sense they represent the swan song for The Time, but they do go out in a blaze of glory.
The album came out a few weeks before the film “Purple Rain” premiered, and no doubt benefited from the publicity. The band itself did not. By this time, Morris Day had left the band, opting to go solo. It’s hard to argue with his reasoning. Morris wanted to write and produce for himself. He wanted his band to actually be his band and not Prince running the show any time but when Morris was on stage. According to Morris, one of Prince’s managers came up to Morris’ place in Los Angeles and told him that Prince was fine with Morris writing and producing the next album…as long as Prince could executive produce. Morris quite rightly suspected that arrangement would be the same as the prior arrangement, with Prince having the final control over Morris’ work.
Like Prince, Morris would rather fail on his own terms than succeed on someone else’s. So he left to pursue a solo career. The Time fell apart, so like Apollonia 6, they were not on the Purple Rain tour. Most of the remaining band members were reconstituted into a new band, which will be discussed in a later entry. The Time will return, but you’ll have to wait a while to see them again.
I’ve Been Wondering What To Wear
Sheila E. is the real deal. She is a world-class percussionist with an enviable pedigree. Her father is legendary percussionist Pete Escovedo, and if you have never heard of him, google him, because you’ve almost certainly heard him play. Prince met Sheila in California soon after he signed his first record contract. Some time in either late 1983 or early 1984, he began urging her to record an album of her own. I’m suspicious that he may have already been looking at her as a possible future band member, but in any case, he did finally convince her to record some tracks for a possible album.
The method of recording her album closely matched the way Prince produced music for The Time. Prince, with input from Sheila E, would produce backing tracks, which she would then sing over and add drums and other percussion. Interestingly, the whole album feels more cohesive, fresh and lively than any collaborative effort Prince produced since The Time’s first album.
There is a sense, supported by research from Princevault, that Prince poached some of the best material he had in mind for Apollonia’s album for “The Glamorous Life.” It seems reasonable from the perspective that Apollonia never had any intention of being around for longer than the duration of the “Purple Rain” project. Prince had a deep respect for Sheila E, both personally and as a musician. He wanted to keep her around, and so (it seems) he made sure the material was worth her attention.
Some highlights of “The Glamorous Life” include the title track and “The Belle of St. Mark” which is a fizzy, bubbly song that Sheila’s vocals carry along effortlessly. “Shortberry Strawcake” is unusual in that it is an instrumental, and sounds like it would absolutely kill when played live.
My favorite song on the album is “Noon Rendezvous.” It was co-written by Sheila and has one of Prince’s most beautifully written melodies. It may seem like a deep cut, but this ballad is well worth your time, as is the whole album.
The Obligatory “Purple Rain” Chat
In the spirit of being honest with my readers (both of them!) I have to say that there is no album in Prince’s catalogue I want to talk about less than “Purple Rain.” It’s nothing to do with the quality of the album as much as I don’t feel like I have much to say about it that hasn’t been said better, more clearly, by people with more interesting perspectives.
Come on. It’s “Purple Rain.” If I have to sell you on “Purple Rain,” what are we doing here in the first place?
However, since there is no way to talk about Prince’s life and music without talking about “Purple Rain,” I suppose it’s best to just get it over with.
I Don’t Care Where We Go, I Don’t Care What We Do
There are essentially four kinds of tracks on “Purple Rain,” first, there are tracks recorded in Minneapolis before principal photography on the film was completed, second there are tracks recorded at Sunset Sound during preproduction for the film; third there are three live tracks recorded at a First Avenue Show in August 1983, a few months before principal photography began, which were then heavily doctored at Sunset Sound in late 1983. Finally, there are tracks recorded at Sunset Sound in 1984 during post-production for the film.
The first category of tracks were put together without much attention to the conditions under which they were recorded. “Darling Nikki” came from a late July 1983 session at Prince’s home studio, which was then edited and mixed in two separate sessions at Sunset sound in ’83 and ’84. At some point near the end of July, Prince had his engineer Susan Rogers, dismantle the Kiowa Trail studio and move all the gear into Prince’s rehearsal space in St. Louis Park.
Oh Lord, I Think I’m Going To Need A Drink
Among fans, Prince’s St. Louis Park facility is known as “The Warehouse.” It was formerly a pet food storage space that Prince rented as place to rehearse the band. Eventually, for unknown reasons, Prince decided to record there as well. It is an absolute miracle anything recorded here was usable in a record.
There was a time where I co-wrote a student film with my best friend, and when it came time to shoot, I went with the crew while my friend directed. Shooting was quick, occasionally even rushed, and because it was a period piece, we had to shoot in any space we could possibly find that would work. One of those places was part of a building owned by a local theatre company, and it was very much like The Warehouse. Cinder block walls, flat metal ceilings, concrete floors, tall windows paned with old, thin glass and old wiring.
When we scouted, I had some reservations about sound quality in such a space and I said so. I didn’t see how we could record actors in a space like this and get any usable sounds. I was mostly ignored. I was not a film student. At the time, I had no practical experience at recording sound. And, we were, after all, in a hurry and we did not have many choices, so I understood why we had to shoot there. I asked about the possibility of dubbing the voices later if the sound quality was poor. The head sound recordist all but pooh-poohed me and told me that would not be necessary. So a few weeks later, we shot scenes there.
A month later, in a panic and with no prior plan in place, we had to dub all the voices in the scene.
In late July 1983, Susan Rogers with help from a colleague from Los Angeles named David Leonard, did her best to turn The Warehouse into a workable recording studio. There was no separation between the recording gear and the musicians, there was no separate booths at all: no drums booths, very little baffling. The wiring inside the building was not insulated (or even really separated) from the recording space, so there is a hum in the tracks caused by a form of electrical interference often called “60 cycle hum” or “60 hertz hum.” These recordings should have been trash.
They were, instead, two of the best pieces of music Prince ever recorded. “Let’s Go Crazy” and “Computer Blue” were both tracked at The Warehouse, and they are magnificent. Their technical flaws only make them sound more rock ‘n’ roll.
Paint A Perfect Picture
“The Beautiful Ones” was tracked at Sunset Sound during sessions in which some songs from “Purple Rain” were edited, and also several other albums (including “Ice Cream Castle”) were tracked and assembled. “The Beautiful Ones” is the only track from the album to be produced in this way, which shines a light on how much was going on at this time.
Even If I Have To Scream And Shout
On August 3, 1983, Prince played First Avenue in Minneapolis. It was a benefit for the Minnesota Dance Company, which was providing dance lessons and choreography for the film. But, as always with Prince (and even moreso for this period in his life), there were a few other things going on. First off, Prince used this opportunity to debut several new songs, some of which went unreleased for many years, and the show was also recorded.
The versions of “I Would Die 4 U,” “Baby I’m A Star” and “Purple Rain” appeared on the album, in edited, overdubbed and re-arranged form. Much is made of these songs being “live,” but for my money that’s almost like calling Frank Zappa’s “Uncle Meat” a studio album. During his lifetime, Prince did not release very many truly “live” recordings. He couldn’t resist touching things up here and there. Since his passing, a few shows have been released in a more-or-less untouched form, and the quality of them suggests that Prince probably didn’t need to do a lot of the tampering he did with his live recordings.
Finally, it’s worth noting that the gig that produced these three hits was Wendy Melvoin’s first gig with Prince. I will talk later at greater length about Wendy’s influence on Prince’s work and her qualities as a guitarist, but for now, take a moment to imagine what it must have been like to be 19 years old, on stage with a new band for the first time…and what comes out of it is “Purple freakin’ Rain.”
Where’s The Bass?
Two further songs made it on to the album, and both were a result of additional shooting in Los Angeles for the film. During this time, Prince basically took up residence at Sunset Sound, and these songs were created to be played over montages in the film. It speaks to Prince’s commercial instincts that songs that were composed for such specific purposes were also custom built to be hit singles. “Take Me With U” was the last single released for the album, but the more significant song by far was “When Doves Cry,” which preceded the album.
“When Doves Cry”’s arrangement always receives attention. Or rather, the lack of arrangement. Most of the song is just the Linn and Prince’s voice with a little keyboard as well. The whole thing feels arid yet urgent.
Meanwhile “Take Me With U” has a lush, fluttering string section throughout that is less of a representation of “Purple Rain” than a bridge to the more complex and even psychedelic territory Prince and the Revolution would tread in 1985.
B-Sides
The B-Sides from “Purple Rain” herald the beginning of the heyday of Prince’s non-album material. “17 Days” is probably my favorite b-side of all time. That elastic-band bass, the reedy, rattling percussion, it’s the perfect example of a song that would have been a blockbuster single for anyone else, but Prince just throws it on a b-side just to get it out there.
“Erotic City” is another weird, experimental track that has more than earned its legendary status. It’s as if he knew the lyrics in the chorus would keep the song off the radio, so he knew he could just go completely buck wild.
“God” is an extension of the piano line that plays underneath “Purple Rain”’s sex scene. That it has the lyrics of a gospel song with no sexual undertones whatsoever is a very subtle example of Prince freely mixing spirituality and sex, in this case nearly invisibly.
All this stuff and more, including the b-sides, the 12 inch, unedited version of “Let’s Go Crazy” and the “Extended” version of “I Would Die 4 U” (which is in reality a recording of a tour rehearsal with the Revolution and Sheila E and has nothing to do with the album version) are all available in the “Purple Rain Expanded Edition” released in 2017, and I have to say it’s well worth the money, but you can also go to Tidal and listen to it there.
Moving On
"Purple Rain"'s phenomenal success was a massive breakthrough for Prince. He was now a household name. MTV was fawning all over him, Tipper Gore was pissed off at him, he had not only arrived, he was absolutely at the summit of 1980's pop nonsense. If his management, who had toiled so hard to make all this happen under penalty of loss of his client, had had their way, Prince and the Revolution would have toured the world for the next two years.
Prince did not care about that. After a large and lucrative 94-date U.S. tour, he moved on. A few weeks after the tour ended, the next album (which had been in the can since before the tour started) was released. Two months after that, the projects that would be released in 1986 began production.
More and more, Prince just did not have time for what other people wanted him to do.
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