Prince comes home to Paisley Park
At his latest Paisley Park show, Prince wasn't shy about telling the crowd that even his decades-old hits were "still good, y'all." If they weren't, why would so many folks jump through hoops to be there? He hadn't announced one of his classic last-minute jam sessions in five years, and superfans, upon hearing the news on Friday, came from as far as Chicago and Detroit to catch Saturday's show. Hundreds of people stood in a parking lot getting cold and wet during the three-hour gap between the tickets going on sale and the venue's doors opening. (And when they got inside to find the room nowhere near capacity, they weren't pissed about the wasted time.) Then there was another hour before Prince took the stage. But it was all worth it. For most people anyway.
The show got under way, with people dancing and singing and shaking $40 3121 tambourines. And there, in the middle of an ecstatic crowd, stood two teenagers with their parents. While mom and dad enjoyed the show, the kids stared at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but the stage. Prince started off with some new stuff—maybe they were waiting for songs they knew. But, no; then he played "1999," and all he got from the Bershon Twins was more eye-rolling and foot-shuffling. The family cut out around the 90-minute mark, and it's probably for the best; Prince was just getting started.
Those children of the '90s don't know what they were missing. Prince's latest house party felt like a return to a bygone era—aside from the fact that he took the stage just minutes after the advertised start time (that part was definitely new)—especially when he kicked things off with the recent MPLSoUND's "No More Candy 4 U," with its frantic 1999-era keyboard line. He played other new songs ("Ol' Skool Company," "Dance 4 Me") during the nearly three-hour set, but the night was more about getting the crowd moving than self-promotion.
He and his seven-piece band managed to pack more than three dozen songs into the evening by cutting them into bit-sized chunks, butting some of his best-known tracks ("1999," "Controversy," "Take Me With U," "Raspberry Beret") up against fan favorites ("Let's Work," "Anotherloverholenyohead," "Sometimes It Snows In April," "Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad?" "Mountains"). Among the few songs that he played in their entirety were "Kiss"—with Gossip Girl replacing Dynasty in the lyrics—and "Purple Rain," which he saved for the very end.
"I got too many hits, y'all! We'll be here all night!" he repeatedly shouted.
He wasn't kidding. As if Prince's own hits weren't enough, he also played a slew of those he'd written for other people, including Chaka Khan's "I Feel For You," Sheila E.'s "The Glamorous Life," and The Time's "Cool," "The Bird," and "Jungle Love."
And then there were all the songs that, believe it or not, Prince didn't write: Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music," The Doobie Brothers' "Long Train Runnin'," Chic's "Le Freak." One of his backup singers performed Sarah McLachlan's "Angel" while Prince took his one short break of the evening. (He didn't even change costumes, coming back in the same black fringed jacket and a metallic necklace that covered most of his chest.) There were also a few understated tips of the hat to M.J. with "I Want You Back," "Shake Your Body (Down To The Ground)," and "Dancing Machine."
But it was a set of Sly & The Family Stone hits with the band's Larry Graham that seemed like the highlight of Prince's night, as he told stories about sitting at the bassist's feet and watching him play. He was similarly entranced onstage that night, looking a bit like a starstruck kid when they laid down the intricate riffs of "Sing A Simple Song."
Throughout the show, the local-boy-made-good reinforced his dedication to the Twin Cities, saying, "We're your neighbors," and, "Don't listen to the rumors. This will always be my home." He even introduced a snippet of "Uptown" with a story about how he used to live in an apartment on Aldridge Avenue, cash his checks at Rudolph's, and swim in Lake Calhoun (claims that were at least partly untrue, he quickly admitted).
But all the promises and nostalgia-tripping were a waste of words. All he has to do is yell, "Minneapolis!" from the Paisley Park stage, and the question of where the guy spends most of his time becomes irrelevant.
