This Weekend: Dirty Mind 40 Graffiti Bridge 30 Virtual Symposium

This Weekend: Dirty Mind 40 Graffiti Bridge 30 Virtual Symposium

So, uh, it’s been a while. I know I haven’t looked it, but I’ve actually been relatively busy these past few weeks, preparing to relaunch d / m / s / r for its fifth year and beyond. It has been slow, tedious work, but it’s looking great and I think will overall be a much better reading experience. I can’t wait to share it later this month.

In the meantime, I wanted to make sure you all know about this weekend’s virtual symposium celebrating 40 years of Dirty Mind and 30 years of Graffiti Bridge. This will be the third Prince-focused symposium organized by De Angela Duff (of New York University and the Grown Folks Music podcast network), who previously put together the wonderful symposia on the 30th anniversaries of Lovesexy in 2018 and Batman in 2019. I am honored to be a small part of this year’s event (which is being held remotely due to the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic), along with friends of d / m / s / r Darling Nisi, Harold Pride, Erica Thompson, Karen Turman, and Chris Aguilar Garcia, and a bunch of other people who I have either had the pleasure to meet or have long admired from afar. If you’re interested in seeing me specifically, I will be on a roundtable on Sunday at 5:30 p.m. with KaNisa and podcasters Michael Dean, Ivan Orr, and Ricky Wyatt, discussing the Time’s Pandemonium album. But really, you should just check out the whole thing. The event is free, and now that it’s held virtually, you don’t need to travel to Brooklyn to join us (hell, you don’t even need to put on pants!).

You can view the symposium schedule and register to attend here:

Prince DM40GB30 Virtual Symposium

Thank you so much to De Angela for extending the invitation to participate; I’ve been a fan of her work for a while and just waiting for the opportunity to connect. Can’t wait to see everyone this weekend!

No Call U

No Call U

(Featured Image: Marilyn Monroe, Prince’s inspiration for protégée Jill Jones’ look, on the set of Some Like It Hot, Billy Wilder, 1959; photo stolen from the Hollywood Revue.)

The months after Jill Jones formally joined Prince’s orbit were “one crazy blur,” she recalled in a recently-published interview with writer Miles Marshall Lewis. From the “spring of ‘82 all the way until July, we were pretty much in the studio daily,” working on the Time and Vanity 6 projects alongside his own fifth album. “And who knew what was going to end up where, with who, what. I was just ready for the ride” (Lewis 2020 “Part 1”). Initially, her role was strictly as a backing vocalist: providing support on the 1999 album and tour for both Prince and Vanity 6. But the Artist Formerly Known as Jamie Starr had grander plans: namely, turning his newest protégée into a star in her own right.

Not all of these plans went off without a hitch. Jones resisted Prince’s overtures to change her name to Elektra, after the recently-introduced Marvel Comics character; a decade later, that moniker would of course find a more willing beneficiary in Carmen Electra, née Tara Leigh Patrick (Lewis 2020 “Part 2”). But she did allow him to give her a makeover inspired by prototypical blonde bombshell Marilyn Monroe: “Prince said I looked like every girl with long brown hair and I needed something to stand out,” she told Michael A. Gonzales for Wax Poetics. “He said, ‘When Vanity walks in a room, people know she’s a star. You need your own thing’” (Gonzales 2018 66). She got it. Jones–all platinum curls and red lips, artfully disheveled in black lingerie, a Marlene Dietrich naval cap, and Prince’s Dirty Mind-era trenchcoat–would steal every frame of the music video for “1999” she was in, providing a whole generation of woman-loving people (myself included) with their entrée into puberty. Nor, as Lewis observes, did it hurt that the mixed-race singer’s bottle blonde allowed her to pass as a “soulful white girl” during a critical moment in Prince’s pop crossover endgame (Lewis 2020 “Part 1”).

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Lady Cab Driver (Rearrange)

Lady Cab Driver (Rearrange)

(Featured Image: A real-life “Lady Cab Driver,” circa 1919; photo stolen from pastpictures.org.)

Of the 11 songs that would eventually make their way onto Prince’s fifth album, “Lady Cab Driver” appears to have had the longest gestation period. The song was completed at Sunset Sound on July 7, 1982, the day after “Moonbeam Levels”; but, as the recent deluxe edition of 1999 revealed, its seeds had been planted during a break in the Controversy tour over half a year earlier on December 8, 1981, in the form of a different song called “Rearrange.”

According to sessionologist Duane Tudahl in the Minneapolis Public Radio documentary The Story of 1999, “Rearrange” was long known to researchers by its title alone: “it was one of those songs that we’d heard existed, but I didn’t think it was actually a song,” he told host Andrea Swensson. “I thought it was just some shuffling of his stuff”–a studio note indicating a literal rearrangement of tapes. As it turned out, of course, it was real–though it was also little more than an admittedly funky sketch: a stark, mid-paced groove with a slick rhythm guitar hook similar to the Time track “The Stick.” Given this similarity–not to mention Prince’s guitar solo, which plays neatly to Jesse Johnson’s combustive style–it seems likely that “Rearrange” was at least provisionally mooted for that group. But this is just speculation; ultimately, says Tudahl, we “don’t know whether it was intended for 1999, whether he was searching for a voice for 1999, or whether he was saying, ‘I gotta record another Time album soon.’ But either way it was something that was not planned. He just thought, ‘I’m in the studio, I gotta record, I’m going to record. This is what I’m gonna do’” (Swensson 2019 Episode 2).

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Don’t Let Him Fool Ya

Don’t Let Him Fool Ya

(Featured Image: Automotive engineer/cocaine trafficker John DeLorean and wife Cristina Ferrare, circa 1981; photo by Tony Korody/Sygma.)

Of the many unreleased tracks Prince recorded in 1982–enough to fill at least two additional double LPs beyond the one that actually did come out, as the new Super Deluxe edition of 1999 demonstrates–“Don’t Let Him Fool Ya” is not the most exciting; nor is it the rarest, the most ambitious, or the most thematically compelling. As the 500 Prince Songs blog noted back in 2017, it’s “barely even a song, more a tantric joy in bass-led repetition.” To say that it’s the kind of thing Prince could have written in his sleep does Prince, and sleep, a disservice; after all, we know by his own admission that “Little Red Corvette” came to him between “3 or 4 catnaps” (Dash 2016).

But for all that, it’s easy to see why “Don’t Let Him Fool Ya” was chosen as a pre-release single to promote Warner Bros.’ aforementioned 1999 reissue, following a live version of the title track from Detroit’s Masonic Temple and the live-in-studio first take of “International Lover.” Simply put, “Don’t Let Him Fool Ya” is a banger, with an infectious bassline and a sparkling, rhythmic keyboard part not unlike the one from the Time’s “I Don’t Wanna Leave You.” And while it’s also clearly a throwaway–the chorus literally goes, “Hey, hey / Hey, hey / Hey, hey, hey, hey”–I defy anyone to get through it without at least a head bob and a smile.

Continue reading “Don’t Let Him Fool Ya”