Monte Carlo 4 May 1994

 

I have returned to 1994 as it is just too delicious to resist with Prince diving headlong into his new direction and new vision. I have listened to many shows from 1994, and this one ranks high among them. It does contain the usual jams and songs that we expect, but the concert comes early in the year when Prince’s rebirth was still big news and offers a thrilling sample of things we have never seen or heard before. Prince’s two shows in Monte Carlo are the first time he appeared in this new guise away from Minneapolis, and from the reception, we hear on the tape it sounds like the world is appreciating this new direction just as much as those in his home town. There will be plenty more similar concerts over the next two years, but none have the vitality and urgency of this one, which not only makes for a great bootleg but a most intriguing one.

4th May 1994, Stars ‘N’ Bars Monte Carlo

It is a Hendrixesque guitar tone that shapes the introduction guitar jam. Normally I shy away from Hendrix comparisons when it comes to Prince, but in this case, I think it is valid as Prince’s guitar draws from the sound of some of Jimi’s pure blues sound. It is carefully crafted and subtlety signposts what will follow, a swampy blues infested “The Ride”

A staple of this era, the version heard on this bootleg does not differ greatly from what is heard elsewhere, although it does have a freshness that can’t ever be captured again on those other recordings. The flame of genius burns bright as Prince lifts the song far above its initial plodding sound with his guitar work scratching every itch in its relentless phosphoric intensity. Prince paces it well, we have a long way to go, and every time it threatens to ignite the building he pulls back and eases the tension with his ever-cool vocals.

 

A melodic bassline picks up the threads of “Come” and soon after Prince spins it into the song we are now familiar with. It retains a cool atmosphere throughout, each instrument playing in its own refined way, never coming together to deliver the punches I expect and crave. It swirls and heaves with intent but still hasn’t been sharpened to a point.

“Endorphinmachine” is where the show starts good and proper and is the point where one can hear Prince firmly striding to break from the past. The music is strident and has an urgency that drives it firmly into the future, this is music that doesn’t stop and reflect, it is pitched at the future and never once lets up with this drive forward. Prince’s opening guitar riff leaps out ahead of the band before they come together in a pounding crash to chase it down. This sense of forward motion is retained through the song, even as the guitar pulls back to give the other instruments a chance to breathe. With a call of “turn me up,” Prince whips out a quicksilver guitar solo that with a surgical slice quickly amputates the past and throws the whole future wide open with the thrill of the unknown. He may not know where this ride is taking him, but we are with him every step of the way, the guitar solo both a declaration and a promise.

 

After such a rush we need some space, and this is provided by the aptly named “Space.” It is unfortunate that with such a song the limitations of the tape are revealed, and there is a distorting buzz on the right side. It matters little for a high-octane rock song such as “Endorphinmachine, but on the gentle flowing “Space,” it is all too apparent and lifts me temporarily out of the concert. “Space” itself has an organic feel that offsets Prince’s outer-worldly lyrics, and Tommy Barbarella’s keyboard solo sounds timeless and could be coming from any piano in the world. A nice counterpoint to the lyrics, it neatly balances the song as well as the concert.

My initial thrill of seeing “Interactive” on the setlist quickly subsides as Prince delivers a tepid and lukewarm version that fails to elicit any joy in me. It becomes apparent to me here that Prince did the right thing by not giving it a proper release (asides from Crystal Ball) and one can understand why by July of 1994 it had been retired from live performance. It promises a lot but delivers little, the main hook not quite enough to fully snare the listener, while its stop-start form destroys any sort of momentum that may have been building. The guitar makes an appearance, but it is a self-serving solo that does nothing to advance the song or the emotional pull of the moment, the song remaining emotionally aloof despite my best wishes.

“Day’s Of Wild” gives me everything I had craved in the previous song – it’s new, it’s got something to say, an inner urgency, and drives it all home in a forceful performance. The rhythm section grinds under it all, musically recreating the sound of two bodies moving against each other, while Prince lays down his credo and a bold statement of where he is right here and now, these are truly his days of wild as he curses and jams the song until it becomes a sweaty lather of dirty funk, every one of us rejoicing in this wild ride Prince is providing. Prince’s pointed lines at Michael Jackson stand out midsong, and coupled with his lines about Larry Graham open the door nicely into a quick “Hair.” The final sing-a-long draws the crowd into this new world Prince is shaping before their very eyes on stage, and sounds just as vital on the bootleg as I’m sure it did at the show.

 

The mood is lightened with a song played with a smile – “Now.” It has an uplifting spirit, and although light in its surrounding company its appearance is timely and brings some color to the concert. It has a freedom to it as vocally Prince is playful, while the music rolls and evolves beneath him. Tommy and Morris are the key players here, and although it is the drums of Michael B that make the first impression, it is the keyboards that build the esprit de corps that make this song a beautiful snapshot of the era. It encapsulates the period of 1994-1995, the music coming at an easy flow, continually threatening to turn into a jam as every member of the band plays with unreserved freedom.

There is a maturity to “Acknowledge Me,” the song at points touching on adult radio, while willfully pulling in the other direction with its lyrics and never settling music. It surprises me with its fierce integrity and how much input the band has. It shouldn’t be surprising given the two songs we have just heard, but I am caught unawares several times as band members come out of the mix with wild contributions. Prince’s rap is unhinged, as is the funk that shakes beneath him, and the final minutes of the song see us drifting far from shore in the back of the rolling funk.

It is an alluring “Dark” that appears next in the bootleg, the recording clean enough to capture it at its best. It has its refined smoothness fully intact and retains this glassiness until the very end. The treat, and hook for me, is the appearance of the “Eye Hate U” speech midsong. An idea Prince is toying with (the song itself wouldn’t appear live until the following year) it is fascinating to hear it pitched in here. It works well enough but has yet to find its natural home. The other moment that stands out is the lightning bolt guitar solo that shatters the final minute of the song and brings light to the dark. It may not be the greatest of solos, but against the silky smooth of “Dark,” it becomes twice as loud and twice as dramatic. Contrast is everything.

The instrumental jam that follows is pure 1994 N.P.G. With Morris Hayes and Tommy Barbarella building a sonic wall on the rock-solid foundation of Sonny T. and Michael B. there is plenty of room for Prince to direct the various directions the song will move to. It never settles on a firm hook, and as such remains unmemorable, but I enjoy it for the band and the unrelenting energy they bring to the performance.

“Race” is notable for how closely it resembles the recorded version, and for the horn samples that make an appearance. The bass stays at a low rumble, making the horn stabs all the more noticeable as they flash bright against this darkened background. It is Tommy Barbarella who is called out for his contribution, Prince deriving great satisfaction from what he is providing. I am inclined to agree, and it is the keyboards and various triggered samples that pique my interest throughout.

 

I have been listening to bootlegs for thirty years now, and I think I have reached the point where I could quite happily skip “The Jam.” A staple in Prince setlists since early 1994, the song is predictable in the direction it will go with Prince introducing each band member. Although they each briefly play their assigned part, the song offers no real meat to chew on, and at points, it does feel like it’s becoming a meander. Prince fails to whip it into anything memorable, and as much as I love each band member and their contribution, overall the song leaves me empty and unfeeling.

There is a further nod to Larry Graham with “I Believe In You,” which has me considering what was Prince’s motivation for these cover versions at the time. It was a fertile period of songwriting for Prince through 1994-1995, as testified by the projects and aborted projects of the era. One only has to listen to The Dawn bootleg that draws all these together to see what an arsenal of music Prince had to draw from, which makes his affinity for these cover versions perplexing. However, it is what it is, and while “I Believe In You,” fails to elicit any real excitement within me, it does again give the band a chance to demonstrate their chops.

“Glam Slam Boogie,” has the freshness I desire, appearing here in only its second live outing (the previous live performance the night before). It is an uptempo jam, the band playing with new life on the back of Prince’s commands. Again every member has a chance to play, but there is a looser feel to the jam, the band shedding the weight of playing someone else’s music and instead playing with freedom and investing fully in their unique sound. It is far more fulfilling than the previous two songs, and the energy in the playing carries well onto the bootleg, it sounds just as vital here at home twenty-five years after the fact. The most interesting part of the song comes when Prince challenges Eric Clapton, “Eric my boy, but I’m gonna get in that ass,” a challenge that never comes to fruition, Prince instead choosing to close the song, before finally coming good on his threat of a guitar onslaught in the final “Peach”

The song itself has very little malice or venom in it it is instead a celebration of guitar frenzy as Prince plays with unbridled abandonment and little regard for the constraints of a three-minute pop song. Although not a brilliant recording, it nevertheless is a fantastic rip-roaring version that doesn’t outstay its welcome, Prince working the song hard without overburdening it with a morass of guitar white noise. There are the much-expected guitar fireworks, a spectacle in itself, but there is enough of the bones of the song present to maintain its form through the maelstrom of guitar fury in the final minute, a minute that almost overwhelms the taper, as the bootleg stays just on the right side of listenable.

I could easily categorize every bootleg of the 1994/1995 period as essential listening as Prince metamorphoses before our eyes to harder more extreme funkateer and square-jawed rocker. This one though is a cut above the rest, not for the quality of the recording, but where it falls on the timeline. This is one of the earlier shows of 1994, and much of the material heard over the next two years is heard here in a fresher form, Prince and the band are far more enthusiastic with their new sound, as are the listeners, than what comes later. The sound quality is of its time, but the show itself overcomes any shortcomings in this department and remains as fresh today as it did back in May of 1994. This is Prince and the band taking their first steps into a brave new world, and it is a journey well worth taking with them.