I have always had an affection for the cover of this 4DF/Akashic bootleg. I was immediately taken by it when I saw the artwork, the butter theme worked throughout the packaging makes for a cohesive package that matches the name of the venue – Butter, New York. A sampling of the recording within suggests that it doesn’t match the artwork in professional sheen, but that matters little as the performance it captures is stupendous. This is Prince in 2006 unleashing his entire arsenal across a sprawling almost-three hour set, an array of guests including Sheila E, Questlove, Tamar, and an exotic mix of cover versions and more familiar tunes from Prince’s considerable catalog. It all makes for a heady mix which even the subpar audience recording (admittedly recorded under testing conditions) can’t detract from. I have not heard this for some time, and I must admit after reacquainting myself with the setlist I find myself quietly looking forward to hearing it again.
17th June 2006 (a.m.), Butter, New York
A wall-shaking, floor-quaking, bass-driven instrumental “Peach” doesn’t so much open the door on this performance as it blows it off its hinges in a supernova of an opening. This is “Peach” pumped full of steroids and given an extra dose of funk from the band, the horns and bass pulling it down from its rock n roll perch and into the sweat and groove of the dance floor. The “it ain’t over chant” carries the momentum, anything thought that this is a band playing to an audience disappears as the structure of a concert dissolves into a communal experience and performance. This isn’t a gig, this is a party. Prince’s guitar does appear through the cracks of this funk groove, not rocking but instead swept along with the jam, the groove remaining unflinching in the face of all that is thrown into it. Prince’s guitar continues to bash at the walls of the song, eleven minutes isn’t long enough to contain its internal fury, and as the song progresses its molten sound pours through the cracks.
Prince was never one to be boxed by a single sound, or idea, nor was he one to be defined by a single genre, so it comes as no surprise to my seasoned ears to hear him going in a completely different direction for his next song “Te Amo Corazón.” The song highlights the horn section, perhaps even more so as the bootleg does no favors to Prince’s vocals. The horns are transportive in their tone, and we drift far from the sound of the nightclub as they play. Prince’s lightness on guitar matches them for exotic tone, but as always it comes back to the quality of the recording which in this case steals the heart of the song – Prince’s delicate vocal arrangement.
As “Forever In My Life” plays, one can already feel “Everyday People” gently rolling underneath, just waiting for its moment to surface late in the song. Prince wore his influences openly as his career progressed, exposing his heroes openly in covering their music. It’s no surprise to hear “Everyday People” in the setlist, although it is a surprise that Larry doesn’t appear to play with him, as he was so often wont to do. Prince’s performance doesn’t provide an edge or insight to the song, it is played with love rather than a chance to stretch out into new territories.
Emerging out of the swamp with a slow burn and glowing eyes comes the primordial “The Ride.” Lean and slow-driven, it is the keyboard that leads it through the performance, the music only parting for the horns to add some brightness to what is otherwise and smoky and slow sound. “The Ride” was made for a slow marinade like this, and nothing is rushed as the groove lumbers into view. It is served remarkably well by the bootleg, with very little vocals the music comes to the fore, the groove trapped in amber, still very much alive as we listen thirteen years later. Prince’s guitar rises later in the piece, holding the groove underwater as he drowns it in an intense guitar-soaked fury. The is no anger in his playing, just coldblooded precision that is its own energy.
This is of course at the height of the Támar Davis era, so it is only natural that she appears on the bootleg for the next few songs, beginning with Aretha Frankin’s “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” It is a song that we should appreciate more these days with the passing of the Queen Of Soul, and this version here marks just how great the gulf was between Aretha and everyone else. Támar hits all her spots, but she is no match for the raw power of the original, and listening to this performance has me further mourning the death of Aretha.
I had been listening to “Love Changes” for years before I realized it was by Mother’s Finest. With Támar at the helm, the easy movement of the opening verse opens up to an expansive chorus where the soul of the song and revealed, allowing Prince to provide a celebratory guitar solo that touches the soul without setting fire to it. Yes, I do love this song, and for good reason, it has a natural ease to it, it seems to flow effortlessly from the hands of the musicians, and Prince gives it just enough of his rough guitar bluster to lift it from pop/rock to rock/pop.
There is an unhurried opening to “Come Together” and “The Chain,” an opening that manages to straddle both songs without decisively coming down one way or another. Prince puts an abrupt end to any doubt that lingers in my mind with his lowkey, almost casual delivery, of the lyrics for “the Chain.” The song crawls on its belly, barely raising a pulse until Prince pulls the chorus into the light and the song truly reveals itself. It is a curious choice for a cover version, and as far as I am aware this is the only time Prince played it. It is hard to reconcile it with my thoughts of what a song Prince covers should sound like, but Prince is always Prince, and his final guitar break before the segue into “Come Together” sees him digging deep into his toolbox to produce a solo worthy of his talent, the guitar shuddering and whinnying in his hands. “Come Together” undoes most of this pressure that had been building, the sing-a-long releasing the pent-up tension in the room with a rush that opens the door for another solo by Prince, a solo that crackles and sizzles beneath the noise of the recording.
With Támar again on the microphone for “When A Man Loves A Woman” the concert takes another turn through this musical labyrinth, the soul of the band given a chance to leech out and soak the recording in its warm organic feel. The feel is right, but to my ears, there is no real heart to it, and I find myself listening to the band far more than Támar. It is a pleasant diversion that leaves me wishing there was more invested in it, along with the wish that there had have had more songs like this in the set. Yes, I’m conflicted, but only because this is the music that plucks the strings of my heart and I would like to indulge myself for a while.
“Redhead Stepchild” is sung by Támar, but there is no doubt who it belongs to as Prince razes all before him with a searing guitar riff from the start. Sounding like a long-forgotten Mother’s Finest outtake, Prince and Támar tear the song up on stage just hours after performing it on Good Morning America. Prince’s guitar work is the engine that powers the song, Támar merely a hood ornament as the NPG drives behind Prince, the band adding muscle to Prince’s rock n roll fury. The sound deteriorates on the recording later in the song, but the song has already rewarded those that took the ride.
Prince played “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” consistently from 1992 to 2015, and as such this song is just as familiar in setlists as “Purple Rain” is in main concerts. With that in mind, there is nothing new in this rendition, and the move into “Play That Funky Music (White Boy)” threatens to turn the song into a stale rehash of all we have heard before. The call for a guitar solo, and subsequent six-stringed response from Prince, promises to bloom into something new, but sadly it’s all smoke and mirrors, and Prince’s solo blows away in the breeze as fast as it arrives.
I like that “Partyman” comes to us at a slightly slower pace, the music still retaining its funk, but now given more time to brew as Prince and the band dwell on the sprightly horns, and the rubbery bass that stretches back and forth underneath. The song is retooled for this show – the vocals barely exist as the horns carry the weight and expectation, along with a heavy dose of funk, for most of the song. Prince’s largest contribution probably comes at the end with his hoarse cry of “Las Vegas!”
“Partyman” feels like a throwaway as a heavyweight “3121” casts its considerable shadow across the recording, a crushing version rolling out across the sonic vista banishing the brightness of the horns from the previous song with its dark and suffocating groove. The recording bends under the weight of this behemoth performance, the crackles and limitations of the recording put to the test as the song unfurls its heavy funk. The horns are still present, now with a somber tone that is befitting of this serious and solemn funk and they can be heard early before Prince reveals himself with a flash of guitar work emerging from the bleakness. It is a powerhouse performance of a slab of granite-like funk, leaving me wondering as it stretches across twelve minutes, why wasn’t this played more often? It was played in 2006,2007 and 2009 and then disappeared. With Prince welding a substantial guitar solo to the second half of the song, there is something for the rockers as well as the funkers, the song sprawling in length yet remaining tightly focused throughout. Prince’s final “You can go if you want to, but you can never leave,” sounds far more like a promise than a threat.
Oh, and Prince can do pop, as his following “Lolita” clearly demonstrates. Ignore the lyrics and enjoy the pureness of the melody and beat, the music remains uplifting even as the lyrics feel inappropriate, especially in this day and age. As the song plays we are a million miles away from the previous “3121,” the concert opening a trapdoor on us as we slide into a brighter world.
The genre-jumping continues apace, “Satisfied” ticking the appropriate ballad box. It flashes by in an instant in comparison to a lot of the other jams on this recording, its slickness almost it's undoing as it glides by. Prince and the horns do conjure up the required magic, and, unfortunately, this isn’t a better recording as this remains a little too rough to do justice to the craft that is being displayed on stage.
I want to write about “Black Sweat” but the recording becomes challenging at this stage, it remains audible but less balanced, and it is a high hat that dominates in my ears early while in the sonic distance I can hear the familiar electronic strains of “Black Sweat.” We remain a distant lover as Prince and the band continues to play in a different dimension from the recording, and I feel the first flush of disappointment in the recording at this point. There are moments when the song becomes stronger than the mix, but it only adds to my feelings of frustration. The best moments come with the chorus, the rest I will have to take a pass on.
The biggest hit to appear in the setlist is “Kiss,” but Prince shows no reverence towards it as he gives us a heavily abridged edition that is enough to remind us that it exists before he puts it back in its box. The crowd enjoys it well enough, but one gets the feeling that Prince would rather play something more substantial.
The substantial song would be the following “Joy In Repetition,” and paired with “All I Want Is You” it dominates the next block of music with its smoky and otherworldly sound. Támar is back to help with vocal duties, and coupled with a melancholic horn line, she delivers a sultry rendition of “All I Want Is You” over the “Joy In Repetition Music,” demonstrating the flexibility of the song as Prince reshapes it around her. There is an audible gasp as Prince comes to the microphone for the song proper, and he doesn’t fail to deliver, the story unfolding from his lips, drawing us all into his world as he spins his magic. Like a wizard, one can almost hear the mists enveloping him as he pulls his guitar out to cast one last spell before vanishing into the ether. The guitar break sums up all that has come before, and one final flurry of notes signals the end of the song.
An unburnished and jagged-edged “Anotherloverholenyohead” punches holes in the poor recording, bursting out in places with its raw knuckled sound. Prince’s guitar snakes and snarls through the song, bringing the recording to life with its insistent and undeniable fury rising out of the crackling tape. The final “Rock Lobster” coda sets my inner teenager aflame with its cool rage, and it feels like the only way Prince could end this song.
“If I Was Your Girlfriend” doesn’t have the same power to overwhelm the dusty quality of the recording, and although I can hear everything, the sound comes muddled, sometimes the bass has my ear, while at other times it is Prince who is at the forefront of the mix. There are moments where things settle and the song wins my heart, but for the most part, the recording holds us all hostage to its inadequacies.
A staccato piano riff opens the door on the final song of the evening as Prince pulls several strands together in a final mashup of “It’s Ecstasy When You Lay Down Next To Me/Be Happy.” Tamar delivers “Be Happy” in a smooth style that, although satisfying, does little to lay the ghosts of the recording to rest. In a mid-tempo jam, there is plenty of time for the band to contribute, and with Questlove on the drums, there is an extra element of interest in the performance. I can’t see Questlove playing, but in my minds-eye, I can see his happy grin as the drums play with joyous freedom throughout his allotted solo. Some lyrical bass has me smiling too, as the band brings the song to a slow boil. This is the type of jam that we would never hear on the record, it only exists in the magic of shows such as this, and one can feel elemental forces combining as Prince builds the performance into a life-affirming celebration. Hopping and bopping, funking and freaking, this is Prince doing everything he does in one twenty-minute all-encompassing blizzard of a performance. The show to this point has been stupendous, and Prince doesn’t ease off the accelerator at all as this song keeps the party and groove rolling right until the final raining cymbal washes across the recording.
There is an uneasy balance to this recording. The marathon concert and otherworldly performance are tempered by the less-than-stellar recording. The taper has done a fine job under difficult circumstances, and I applaud them for that, as we would all be all the poorer if this recording didn’t exist. This is one of the great Prince concerts, and, surprisingly, people don’t speak of it more often. Playing with renewed vigor after his resurgence in the previous two years, Prince is staking his place among the greats with this concert that spans not only three hours, but a lifetime of live performances. People may be wary of the quality of the recording, but that is all but forgotten as the music and show obliterate all other thoughts – it is not a perfect bootleg, but it comes close to being a perfect show.
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