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Prince: The Late Prince

Prince remained a prolific recording artist right up to his death. Indeed, following the release of ‘Batman’,  he went on to record close to 30 albums. Fans can argue over the merits of the music, but the idea that he never released anything to match the high watermark of his 1980s output is a fallacy. Simon Price lists 30 Prince classics from his post-Imperial Phase…

Photo: Randee St. Nicholas / © Paisley Park Enterprises

Did Prince ever really, truly, jump the shark?

If he did, it would have been in kitten-heel boots, executing the mid-air splits at an elevation at least equal to his 1.57m stature while emitting a joyously insouciant yelp.

With the arguable exception of David Bowie, nobody’s Imperial Phase was quite as imperial as that of Prince. After hitting his stride at the age of 22 with his third album, 1980’s new wave and electro-inflected perv-funk masterpiece ‘Dirty Mind’, he romped through a breathtaking run of experimental, genre-blending and world-conquering records: ‘Controversy’, ‘1999’, ‘Purple Rain’, ‘Around the World in a Day’, ‘Parade’, ‘Sign “O” the Times’, ‘The Black Album’ and ‘Lovesexy’. But when, exactly, did that phase end?

Most observers, whether unconverted or devoted, would agree that 1989’s ‘Batman’ soundtrack – though enormously successful in commercial terms – was the first wobble in quality, that 1990’s soundtrack to his own movie ‘Graffiti Bridge’ was patchy, and that he pulled it out of the fire again with 1991’s ‘Diamonds and Pearls’.

If we split the difference and start at the beginning of the 90s, it’s possible to assemble a killer playlist by The Late Prince, advancing the argument that his shark may actually have remained unjumped.

Prince’s post-80s discography is a place of chaos and disorder, to namecheck just one later album which made few ripples. It’s a tangled timeline complicated at various stages by his former label’s rival agenda, and his own capricious decisions to dig into his fabled Vault of unreleased material. (I’ll try to limit this list to tracks which don’t appear to have escaped the Vault in any form before 1990 but will doubtless fail.)

Following his career in that era could be hard work. For the first time in his life, he was neither leading nor following the zeitgeist, but disappeared off to his own little world, somewhere to the side, singing about self-made syncretic religions (or, later, the actual Jehovah’s Witness faith).

Almost fatally, he didn’t know what to do about hip hop. A live instrument fundamentalist, he abhorred sampling (except when it suited him) and was blindsided when sample culture came to dominate. And, when he did allow rap into his sphere, it tended to be his own hired guys, rather than the best available.

Perhaps it’s for the best that, aside from the odd tentative foray, he never fully leaned into contemporary trends. It might have been embarrassing and undignified, had he done so. But the end result was that he relinquished the initiative and wound up making music that was neither outdated nor future-facing. It was just... Prince music.

Prolific to a fault, Prince unarguably lost sight of quality control; there was more than one sprawling triple album. But who’s going to tell the greatest musical genius of the modern era to apply a policy of less is more? Warners tried, and it didn’t end well (the singer writing SLAVE on his face in response and changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol). Heaven forbid that Warners might actually have had
a point.

But sift and ye shall find. This admittedly personal and subjective selection of 30 highlights from his post-Imperial years, presented in loose chronological order, amply demonstrates that when he chose to, Prince could still knock out pieces of pure gold at the drop of a rakishly-cocked peach fedora.

Photo: Randee St. Nicholas / © Paisley Park Enterprises

‘The Question of U’ (1990)

When Apollonia Kotero, Prince’s love interest in ‘Purple Rain’, saw the script to its Golden Raspberry-gathering sequel ‘Graffiti Bridge’, she told him it was “a piece of shit”, and declined to participate. Cinematically, she dodged a bullet. But the soundtrack, with exquisitely elegant ballads like ‘The Question of U’, had its moments.

‘Joy in Repetition’ (1990)

Originally planned for unreleased triple album ‘The Crystal Ball’, ‘Joy in Repetition’ is another ‘Graffiti Bridge’ moment that’s preferable to its perfectly OK lead single, ‘Thieves in the Temple’. Its slinky, semi-spoken narrative finds Prince in the unfamiliar position of subjugating himself to the spell cast by another singer.

‘Gett Off’ (1991)

The New Power Generation never banged harder than this James Brown-referencing God-tier belter, with Prince the horny pony chasing “23 positions in a one night stand” with a voluptuous, callipygian brick house of a love object whom he cheekily informs “You better be happy that dress is still on/I heard the rip when you sat down...”

‘Cream’ (1991)

Taken, like ‘Gett Off’, from ‘Diamonds & Pearls’, ‘Cream’ confirmed the suspicions of fans of Prince and Marc Bolan that the former was fully aware of the latter. Its main riff subtly channels ‘Get It On’ and Prince nods to Bolan’s “You’re dirty-sweet and you’re my girl” with “You’re filthy cute and baby you know it”.

‘Sexy MF’ (1992)

That A7#9 – nicknamed ‘The Hendrix Chord’ – after that first whipcrack drumbeat builds almost unbearable tension, resolving only long enough for Prince, wielding a gold pistol-mic, to drop the Oedipal Noun, ensuring zero airplay. Which didn’t stop the skittering, JBs-esque ‘Sexy MF’ hitting Top Tens worldwide.

‘My Name is Prince’ (1992)

The Ronseal of Prince singles, its repeated mantra “My name is Prince/And I am funky” was a little on-the-nose. But it was also something of a self-aware piss-take. Funky he may have been, but within 12 months of its release, if there’s one thing his name wasn’t, it was Prince.

‘Peach’ (1993)

From its Kim Basinger-uttered gasp onwards, ‘Peach’ – released to promote ‘The Hits/The B-Sides’ compilation – was Prince in fun mode, a goofy southern boogie chug complete with cartoon skidding-tyres and eyeballs-on-stalks effects, about a hottie who could “turn a gay preacher to a sinner” but, alas, “she’s so cool and I’m so ugly...”

‘Pussy Control’’ (1993)

“This is your captain with no name speaking”, TAFKAP jokes in this banger about a badass who “got bank in her pockets before she got dick in her drawers”. The song sometimes known as P. Control opens ‘The Gold Experience’, the P-word and the N-word making it as radio-hostile as ‘Sexy MF’. But who cares?

‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’ (1994)

It rankles that Prince’s only UK number one is this conventionally sentimental Hallmark Cards love song. (Insanely, it was released ten days after Valentine’s Day.) It’s no ‘Adore’ or ‘Do Me Baby’. But if it catches you at the right moment – perhaps a late-night minicab ride – then you can only surrender. It’s not why we love Prince, but on its own terms it’s faultless.

‘Love Sign’ (1994) Nona Gaye & Prince

A duet with Marvin’s daughter (and Slim Gaillard’s granddaught-o-roonie), originally released on the NPG label’s Various Artists compilation ‘1-800-NEW-FUNK’, ‘Love Sign’ was Prince’s nod to G-Funk, complete with a guns-and-cars video directed by Ice Cube. Seek out the remix by Digital Underground’s comedy plastic-nosed Shock G.

‘Orgasm’ (1994)

The largely cunnilingus-themed ‘Come’, Prince’s last for Warners, was a classic case of the contract fulfilment album. Tucked away at the end, after lead single ‘Letitgo’, is a recording of a woman (credited as ‘She Knows’, now known to be Vanity) reaching climax as Prince offers JOI encouragement. Hilarious.

‘Days of Wild’ (1995)

Unreleased in 1995, until it eventually crept out on 1998’s ‘The Crystal Ball’ (only partly related to the aforementioned lost 80s project), ‘Days of Wild’ was Prince’s stab at Onyx-style bumpin’ bro rap, rhyming “back when Dick was fuckin’ Liz” with “jockstrap full of jizz”.

‘Eye Hate U’ (1995)

Hurt people hurt people, they say. When Prince played the sublimely fucked-up revenge ballad ‘Eye Hate U’ to Carmen Electra, his protégee and briefly girlfriend who had been seeing another guy, she cried. Take your pick between the LP version (featuring a “Your Honor” courtroom scene) and the Extended Remix (“Eye know he didn’t make U holler/And if he
did, it wasn’t like the time we did it 2 Mahler...”

‘Don’t Talk 2 Strangers’ (1996)

A sweet, simple song in which a departing – or possibly even dying – parent offers life advice to their child, ‘Don’t Talk 2 Strangers’ sits strangely on the soundtrack to ‘Girl 6’, Spike Lee’s phone sex comedy. Perhaps because it was originally intended for another film, ‘I’ll Do Anything’. It could have been a Nashville standard. And it’s OK, you’ve just got something in your eye.

‘The Truth’ (1998)

The title track and opener of ‘The Truth’, a studio album bundled with 1998’s ‘The Crystal Ball’ box set, was an uncharacteristically stripped-back acoustic blues meditation on the nature of honesty and reality. One man and his guitar. No smoke, no mirrors, just P, his lips and his fingertips.

‘The Greatest Romance Ever Sold’ (1999)

‘Rave Un2 the Joy Fantastic’ – a title recycled from a mooted house album in the late 80s – didn’t give us many memorable moments, but its mid-paced, multi-tracked lead single has a certain Mediterranean mystique.

‘The Work Pt.1’ (2001)

When legendary bassist Larry Graham (ex-Sly And The Family Stone) lured Prince into the Jehovah’s Witness faith, the pair would knock on doors unannounced in Minneapolis. Take a moment to imagine that. ‘The Rainbow Children’, informed by that faith, is forgettable, but the single ‘The Work Pt.1’, yet another James Brown-ish jam, foreshadowed the equally lithe title track of 2004’s ‘Musicology’.

‘U Make My Sun Shine’ (2001) Prince & Angie Stone

Originally slated for ‘High’, yet another unreleased album, ‘U Make My Sun Shine’ surfaced on the tittersomely-titled download-only ‘The Chocolate Invasion’. With veteran Angie Stone, he recreated smoochy 70s soul far more enjoyably than his pointless Stylistics (‘Betcha by Golly, Wow’) cover a few years earlier.

‘A Case of U’ (2002)

The piano-led ‘One Nite Alone’, which featured “ambient singing” from his pet doves Divinity and Majesty, was the first Prince album not to chart (available only to NPG Music Club members). Its highlight, dedicated to the memory of his father John L Nelson, was a cover of a much-loved song from Joni Mitchell’s 1971 album ‘Blue’, slightly abridged, retitled and rearranged: a bit less Laurel Canyon, a bit more church.

‘While My Guitar Gently Weeps’ (2004) With Tom Petty, Jeff Lynne and Dhani Harrison

Cheating? Don’t care. In the 21st century, Prince (re)established himself as the world’s greatest live performer, from Superbowls to tiny club gigs. His paint-stripping solo from the Rock’n’Roll Hall Of Fame’s George Harrison tribute has entered history as the greatest ever played. Watch the supergroup’s stunned faces as he tosses his guitar skywards and makes a French exit. Cool as fuck.

‘Black Sweat’ (2006)

Prince’s finest single of the 21st century was a minimalist beast built from squealing P-funk synths, a brutal beatbox and raw, lust-crazed falsetto. ‘Black Sweat’ was confidently playful in a way that recalled ‘Kiss’ and ‘Sexy MF’. “You’ll. Be. Screaming. Like. A. White. Lady. When. I. Count. To. Three. ONE... TWO...”

‘Guitar’ (2007)

It’s a shame that Prince’s ‘Planet Earth’ album was chiefly distributed free with toxic fash rag The Mail On Sunday, but it was heralded by the highly enjoyable single ‘Guitar’, featuring some muscular clatter from Sheila E, a melody which called back to ‘Girls & Boys’, and a touch of gentle negging. “I love you, baby... but not like I love my guitar.”

‘Dance 4 Me’ (2009)

Effectively a duet with himself (his androgynous alter-ego Camille creeping into the mix), ‘Dance 4 Me’ was the only single from the ‘Lotusflow3r’ album and thrilled Prince geeks by reprising electronic drum sounds that were familiar from 80s classics such as ‘Sign “O” the Times’.

‘Rock’n’Roll Love Affair’ (2012)

After all, if anyone earned the right to reference their past, it was Prince. (His past having created countless other acts’ presents and futures.) ‘Rock’n’Roll Love Affair’ was a lightweight, radio-friendly confection with a keyboard riff straight out of ‘Take Me With U’ and a “That’s when...” vocal inflection straight out of ‘Raspberry Beret’. An easy win.

‘Givin’ ‘Em What They Love’ (2013) Janelle Monáe feat. Prince

When the Afrofuturist auteuse Janelle Monáe rose to prominence, she seemed a dream-perfect inheritor of Prince’s mantle. He saw it, too. “He let me produce him, which was unheard of,” she said of this collaboration – a slow, snaky voodoo groove - adding: “He never let his mystery get in the way of mentorship”.

‘Breakfast Can Wait’ (2013)

“You shut it down last night/I thought the police was gonna come/Was it loud? Yeah, quite...” If the lyrics didn’t prove that Prince was in the mood to have a laugh at himself, the mad Pinky & Perky voices surely did, and if they didn’t, then the online artwork – Dave Chapelle dressed as Prince, serving up pancakes – sealed the deal.

‘FallInLove2Nite (2014) feat. Zooey Deschanel

Prince was such a fan of sitcom ‘New Girl’ that he asked to be in it. They wrote an episode around him, in which he duets with star Zooey Deschanel (no stranger to singing in She & Him) and gets his arse kicked at table tennis. ‘FallInLove2Nite’, a piece of summer-breezy electro-pop, is utterly joyous.

‘FixUrLifeUp’ (2014)

“A girl with a guitar is 12 times better than another crazy band of boys...” Much was made of the fact that ‘PlectrumElectrum’ was recorded with an all-female band, 3rdEyeGirl. As if his history of female collaborators didn’t stretch back to Wendy & Lisa and Sheila E. More startling was the genre: cymbal-crashing hard rock, as epitomised by the single ‘FixUrLifeUp’.

‘Baltimore’ (2015)

The deceptively blissful ‘Baltimore’ was a Black Lives Matter protest song written in response to the police killings of Freddie Gray and Michael Brown, and his most directly political release in years. The song he’d have composed in response to current events in Minneapolis can only be imagined.

‘Revelation’ (2015)

‘HitNRun Phase 2’ was the last album released in Prince’s lifetime. Penultimate track, ‘Revelation’, took its own sweet time as Marcus Anderson threaded a sinuous sax line, with Prince balancing the carnal and the spiritual. After verses about “making you cum”, he delivered a cryptic spoken stanza: “Through English glamour, casting a spell/Through Hebrew, Greek, and Roman Hell/Higher ‘til we overstand/The colour of the Pharaoh’s hand.” His entire oeuvre encapsulated in five-and-a-half minutes.

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Read: Prince's Early Years

Read: Prince's Imperial Phase

Read: Prince's Best Edits, Remixes and Dancefloor Deep Dives

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This article first appeared in Disco Pogo issue 9

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Don’t Call It A Comeback