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Prince. Musicology. Sony 92560, 2004.
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Many reviewers received Prince’s recent album
and tour as a return to form, a “comeback.”
In classic fashion, Prince bristled at this appellation, and rightly
so: there are numerous reasons why Musicology (2004) should
not be characterized as a comeback album. On the surface, Prince
has
“come back” in a very real way. After a very public feud
with his former record label Warner Brothers, and a much derided
name
change, Prince had little in the way of favorable press or a mainstream
hit, in quite some time. In this light, the well-deserved attention
that Prince’s Musicology album and tour garnered makes
the project seem like a return to form, and a refutation of the
critical
stance that Prince is past his prime or is no longer relevant within
a music industry whose racial boundaries he boldly challenged in
the 1980s. On the other hand, considered in light of
Prince’s many releases since the end of his tenure at Warner
Brothers, Musicology is but a drop in the bucket.
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Prince has never ceased recording and releasing songs
and albums, though many of them have only been available through his
website < www.npgmusicclub.com>.
He has also toured continuously for the last decade, and the strength
of his live act remains undiminished. Prince’s millennial New
Year’s Eve concert at his Paisley Park complex showed him in
top form, and the resulting Pay Per View broadcast was released on
DVD to good reviews. More recently, Prince supported his adventurous,
jazz-influenced 2001 album The Rainbow Children with the
One Nite Alone tour (2002), which drew capacity crowds and
critical praise around the country and was released as a boxed set
that has sold briskly despite a high price tag. Musicology’s
songs are based upon musical influences that have always been in Prince’s
work, and their particular deployment displays the same mix of R&B
and pop production styles as his last major-label partnership, Rave
Un2 the Joy Fantastic (1999). The songs on internet-released
albums such as The Slaughterhouse (2004) and The Chocolate
Invasion (2004) have much in common with the material on Musicology
both in terms of thematic focus and stylistic influences,
and it is largely the lack of major-label publicity and distribution
that prompted many reviewers to ignore them. 1
Yet the comeback label has stuck in the popular press.
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The trade press, meanwhile, has spent more time discussing
the novel business model Prince adopted than the music itself. Including
a “free” copy of the album with each concert ticket and
then counting those as “sales” in the SoundScan reports
certainly seems like a transparent ploy to boost the album’s
chart position. However, the SoundScan reports do not support this
conclusion. The album debuted at number three on the Billboard 200
album chart, a feat that, according to Billboard, it would have accomplished
even without including concert-distributed copies of the album as
sales (the numbers have been reported separately) (Christman
and Mayfield 1). As of this writing the album has re-entered the
top-ten, marking fourteen weeks on the charts. Sales figures aside,
this controversial
business model would arguably not have saved a bad album from obscurity.
- Musicology is neither a comeback nor a prop in an industry
game of SoundScan cat-and-mouse. Yet the fact that journalists are
focusing on the
comeback
question (either to support or debunk it) points to a discursive
white elephant underlying current Prince reception. The
question remains whether Prince,
as an artist of a certain vintage, will continue to innovate and
produce
hits or slide into that sector of the market that relies on nostalgia
and licensing deals as the primary revenue streams. For the balance
of this review, I will argue for the continuing relevance of Prince's
music by discussing the socio-cultural issues with which his music
engages, both lyrically
and stylistically. Musicology’s
success is not merely the result of synergistic business strategies,
coming
hard on the heels of his Rock and Roll
Hall of Fame induction and remaining on the charts through statistical
sleight-of-hand. The album does not represent a sea-change in his
work, and the runaway success of the Musicology tour—which
set an
attendance record over five sold-out shows at Los Angeles’s
Staples Center—is
not a function of narcissistic nostalgia. The tour demonstrates
how
Prince can use his new material to inflect and comment on earlier
music, both his own and others'. Throughout Musicology the
listener can hear the sounds of an artist negotiating the changing
terrain of musical race relations in America, and Prince's changing
role within that field: after being the flag-bearer of genre
synthesis and racial hybridity in his early career, Prince
now occupies a more patrician position, guarding the flame of
black music in America
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Musicology contains twelve songs, ranging
stylistically across both contemporary and past styles of R&B
and rock. “Buying” the album is not a simple task however,
as Prince has been producing “electronic b-sides” to
accompany the album’s singles, and releasing them only
through his NPGMusic Club website. Though it may be conventional
wisdom to regard Prince’s
flood of outtakes and b-sides with suspicion, they succeed in extending and
enriching
themes of social protest and romantic stability. One example is “The
United States of Division,” the b-side to Musicology’s
anti-war single “Cinnamon Girl.” “Cinnamon Girl”
uses a rock idiom suggestive of 1980s new-wave (tense guitar-accompanied
verses followed by synth-heavy choruses,
framed
with a straight duple meter and unrelenting minor-mode
harmony), lyrically exploring the complex issues surrounding ethnicity
in a post-9/11 world and stressing the power of prayer, hinting at
the monotheism of both Christianity and Islam as a common ground
for understanding.“ The
United States of Division” presents simplistic anti-war
lyrics (“everybody stop fighting”), while
enacting all the cold complexity of contemporary American/Middle-Eastern
relations with a hard and extremely funky polyrhythmic groove, stark
instrumental texture, and ambiguously modal hook. 2
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The lushly
romantic slow-jam “Call My Name” finds Prince paying
homage to the stability of identity garnered from being in a long-term
monogamous
relationship, while its electronic b-side, a “demo,” entitled
“Silver Tongue,” uses a jazz-flavored solo piano reminiscent
of Prince’s troubled piano ballads—“Condition
of the Heart” (Around the World in a Day) or “Sometimes
it Snows in April” (Parade)—to support intensely
cynical lyrics about betrayed trust (“such a sad way to
lose someone…the
song and dance that hides your gun / from those who buy the silver
from your tongue…”). Anti-war sentiment and romantic
stability are two of the recurring themes of this album, which also
includes
touches of self-effacing humor (the twelve-bar blues number “On
the Couch”) and bombastic rock-opera (“A Million Days,”
“Marrying Kind,” and “If Eye Was the Man in Your
Life,” the latter two of which recall Prince’s multi-song
suite “Three Chains ‘O’ Gold” from the
self-titled
Love Symbol Album). But there is one more overarching theme
that Prince touches on directly in the title track: nostalgia for
a musical past.
- “Musicology” is one of
only a handful of album tracks that Prince routinely performs in his
tour appearances (he opens the show with it). Lending the
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song even more weight, Prince includes a video of it on the store-bought
version of the album. Considered together, the aural and visual images
present a nostalgic portrait of a sort of black musical utopia located
in an anachronous musical past. Prince appears in a retro-themed performance,
set in an art-deco theater peopled with zoot-suited men and women in
“New-Look” dresses and pillbox hats, even going so far
as to include a pair of tap-dancers in matching V-necked sweaters.
Spliced
with this footage is a parallel storyline of a young boy who first
purchases the new Prince forty-five, and then lip-syncs along to the
song in a
bedroom festooned with posters of African-American musical icons of
the 50s, 60s, and 70s.
- The song’s groove supports this retrospective theme (especially
in live performance, where the horns dominate), and displays precisely
the same kind of “in-the-pocket” playing that characterizes
James Brown’s musical innovations of the late 1960s (Ramsey 11;
Danielsen 75). Specifically, the instruments—bass, drums,
guitar, keyboard, and horns—each play unchanging ostinati that
join like puzzle pieces, creating a complex composite rhythm and embellishing
the unchanging harmony of the song. This technique is clearly audible
in the judiciously interlocking sounds of drummer John Blackwell’s
fluttering snare-drum ghost-strokes and the dry, high-pitched bass line
(Listen
to “Musicology”). To this mix Prince (like Brown)
adds horn, keyboard and rhythm guitar, all of which stay resolutely
in the pocket of the groove, lending the song the affect of tasteful
restraint that distinguishes 1960s funk from its looser descendents
(e.g. George Clinton and P-Funk, who are also important influences on
Prince’s work). Not content with retro-pastiche, however, Prince
slowly builds the song’s dynamic intensity by layering counter-melodies
incrementally until, by the last verse, he has created a perfect analogue
to the raucous energy of his live shows, complete with P-Funk-style
synthesizer stabs and backing vocals evocative of gospel.
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James Brown has always been among Prince’s
primary musical inspirations. This influence has been enriched by
New Power
Generation member and former James Brown saxophonist Maceo
Parker (former P-Funk trombonist Greg Boyer is in the band as well,
although Prince more often foregrounds Parker’s musical personality).
And while there are other genre references on the album, 3
the theme of nostalgia looms over Musicology for a number
of reasons. The title track and video send a clear message: “true
funk” is located in the past (or at least in a present more
informed by the past) and played by live musicians rather than
on
turn-tables. In his live performances, Prince often foregrounds his
excellently pedigreed horn section, which lends his back-catalog
the
feel of an old-school rhythm and blues review. One interesting
example of this is how the song “Life ‘O’ the Party”
has changed over the course of the tour. A reflexive song about party
music in the tradition of other Prince grooves like “Housequake”
( Sign ‘O’ the Times) and “Jam of the Year”
( Emancipation), the album version of “Life ‘O’
the Party” is spare in texture,
the vocal melody little more than a reciting tone accompanied by
a two-note
piano hook over a subwoofer-devouring drum machine groove. 4
( Listen
to "Life 'O' The Party") In concert, Prince changes“Life
‘O’ The Party” drastically: where there had been
coldly minimal textures enlivened by occasional horn interjections,
Prince juxtaposes the song’s vocals over the metronomic ticking
drums and higher-pitched bass octaves of James Brown’s “Hot
Pants,” a song whose unmistakable horn-riff turnaround appears
again near the end of the concert.
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The past as a musical topic has often been used as
a palliative to this or that bloated trend within the music industry.
For instance, as 1970s progressive rock ballooned songs into multi-section
suites with long keyboard solos, punk rock turned to back-to-basics
amateurism based on reviving 1950s and 60s garage rock. Yet overemphasis
on the musical past can be politically conservative, even paralytic,
leading to the creation and defense of musical canons that creak under
their own weight, choking out innovative new work while they fail
to address the needs of contemporary society. It is perhaps for this
reason that the reception of Prince’s current project has been
so charged: in the wake of Prince’s induction into the rock
‘n’ roll hall of fame, and the 20th anniversary of what
was arguably his commercial zenith (1984’s Purple Rain),
critics are both slavering for a glimpse of the artist past his prime
and desperate for evidence that he is not.
But the model of nostalgia with which Prince has furnished his audience
defies such categorization. I hear not the pathetic nostalgia of a
narcissistic artist limping into middle age on the crutches of past
hits, but rather the purposeful nostalgia of an artist paying homage
to his musical forbears, and using this knowledge to move forward.
Even as Prince first brought his transgressive fusion of punk and
new-wave musical styles to the attention of mainstream America in
the 1980s, scholars such as Nelson George recognized him as one of
“the decade’s finest historians” (194). Considered
in tandem, Princes Musicology album and tour are a portrait
of an artist who is firmly rooted in the history of African-American
popular music, using his subject position not as an end in itself,
but as a platform for exploring political and personal issues relevant
in todays America.
Griffin Woodworth
University of California, Los Angeles
Footnotes
1. The Slaughterhouse
is largely comprised of previously released tracks on the internet dating
from the first two years of the New Power Generation Music Club’s
existence, so the 2004 release date is somewhat misleading.
2 Anthony DeCurtis
claims “Cinnamon Girl” borrows its title from a Neil Young
song and a deft hook from the mid-Eighties to explore racial and ethnic
differences in a post-9/11 world (DeCurtis 76).
3. The influence
of singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell lingers in the ballad “Reflections”;
“On the Couch” is straight 12-bar blues with touches of
barrelhouse piano; and the rocker “A Million Days” recalls
Carlos Santana’s soaring guitar style, to say nothing of the lyrical
references to 1960s and 70s funk icons such as Earth Wind & Fire
and Sly Stone in “Musicology.”
4. This is one of
two songs on the album on which Prince tips his hat to contemporary
hip-hop, at least in terms of production style, the other being the
cryptic quasi-rapped “Coma, Pimp & Circumstance.”
WORKS CITED
Discography
Prince. Purple Rain. Warner Brothers 25110-2, 1984.
Prince. Around the World in a Day. Paisley Park / Warner
Brothers 2-25286, 1984.
Prince. Parade (Music from the Motion Picture Under
the Cherry Moon). Paisley Park / Warner Brothers 2-25395,
1986.
Prince. Sign ‘O’ the Times. Paisley Park / Warner
Brothers 25577, 1987
.
Prince. Prince and the New Power Generation / The Love Symbol
Album. Paisley Park / Warner Brothers 2-45037, 1992.
Prince. Emancipation. NPG / EM 54982, 1996.
Prince. Rave Un2 the Joy Fantastic. NPG / Arista 14624, 1999.
Prince. The Rainbow Children. NPG / Redline 70004, 2001.
Prince. One Nite Alone…Live! NPG 7070, 2002.
Prince. Musicology. NPG / Columbia 92560, 2004.
Books and Articles
Christman, Ed and Geoff Mayfield. “Prince CD Sparks
Debate.” Billboard May 8, 2004. 1, 68.
Conniff, Tamara. “Prince will bring his ‘Musicology’
tour back to Los Angeles.” The Hollywood Reporter May
20, 2004.
Danielsen, Anne. “Presence and Pleasure: A Study in the Funk Grooves
of James Brown and Parilaiment.” Ph.D. diss., University of Oslo,
2001.
DeCurtis, Anthony. “Prince, ‘Musicology’: 4-Stars.”
Rolling Stone April 29, 2004. 75-6.
George, Nelson. The Death of Rhythm & Blues. New York:
Plume, 1988.
Ramsey, Guthrie. “Who Hears Here? Black Music, Critical Bias,
and the Musicological Skin Trade.” The Musical Quarterly
85 (Spring, 2001). 1-52.
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