On Sunday, Feb. 12, Prince’s discography was released on Spotify. Emerald Arts and Culture writers Sararosa Davies and Dana Alston took this opportunity to fully immerse themselves in Prince’s music by exclusively listening to The Purple One’s catalog. Here are their responses, with a podcast detailing their experiences during this wild Prince marathon.
Dana’s reaction:
My first exposure to Prince came in 2007 at the tender age of 11. He was the artist chosen for the Super Bowl Halftime Show that year, and his performance was marked by a ridiculous torrent of rain. The downpour was so severe that officials considered canceling the show. At one point, Prince was called and asked if the rain was going to hinder him.
His response: “Can you make it rain harder?”
Standing on a stage designed in the shape of his “Love Symbol,” he defied the weather, and delivered the greatest and most unlikely Super Bowl Halftime performance of all time. He delivered song after song, usually accompanied with genius guitar solos, while the world came crashing down around him. My mother, who grew up an avid fan, was enamored. A love of Prince is in my genes, but it took me almost ten years to fully understand his music,his impact and his persona.
The fearlessness, energy and openness on display during that performance defined him. Prince began as a musical genius in the funk genre. But as he evolved and delivered his masterpieces during the 1980s, he was impossible to predict. He explored pop on songs like “When You Were Mine” (a personal favorite). He dabbled in protest and politics in “Controversy” and “Sign O’ The Times.” He conquered the world with “Purple Rain,” his magnum opus. There was nothing he couldn’t do.
Listening to his albums front to back only proves how musically invincible he was. Not even a thunderstorm on national television could slow him down. He could get through life, no matter what it threw at him, through his art. He made living easier for the rest of us, one note at a time.
Sararosa’s reactions:
Growing up in the Minnesota music scene meant I was surrounded by references to Prince whether I was attending a show at First Avenue in Minneapolis or hearing about his dance parties at his home and recording studio, the fortress-like Paisley Park in Chanhassen, Minnesota, a Twin Cities suburb. Despite being constantly surrounded by purple, I had no idea just how big his impact was on the entire world. He’s not just a hometown hero and that became evident when he died.
I was always familiar with Prince’s image and his impact on the “Minneapolis sound,” but to be completely honest, I had barely listened to his music before he passed away. My dad used to play me “Raspberry Beret,” but that didn’t quite stick until now.
I remember meeting up with my friend Cecilia a couple days after Prince passed away. She told me about her experience reporting on First Ave’s honorary all-night dance parties.
Cecilia slept in the utilities closet at First Ave one night during those dance parties. Recently, months after she told me this, it hit me that maybe I should actually listen to the Purple One. If people were dedicating that much time to him and sleeping in cramped spaces just to cover how people mourned him, why wasn’t I doing the same thing?
Months later, here I am. I took a plunge into Prince’s music for a week and am more aware of his impact beyond Minnesota, more aware of just how versatile his sound was. From early albums like the self-titled, disco-y “Prince” to the 45 minute long, one-track album “Lovesexy” there’s truly something for every mood and for every person.
I’d like to think that by finally listening to his music I’m coming full circle. In a way, I’m now able to mourn him as more than just a Minnesotan music legend. Some of his discography is hit-or-miss (“Around the World in a Day”) and some of it’s plain genius (“Purple Rain” and “1999”), but still, who knew that after a week straight of Prince I still wouldn’t be done yet? I’m ready for more. Open those vaults at Paisley Park, please!