Paisley Park 17 June 2004 (am)

 Prince toured extensively on the back of Musicology through 2004, his live show reaching thousands of fans over the summer months. The tight shows didn’t give a lot of scope for pushing the boundaries, or springing surprises and the handful of after-shows from the tour are where Prince and the band display their wares and deep love of all styles of music. Over the next few weeks, I will be listening to the three Paisley Park concerts of 2004, each after the main show at the Xcel Energy Centre, St Paul. These are playful performances that contain a lot of spirit, and I find them all easy and fun to listen to, a positive review before we even start. 

17th June 2004(am) Paisley Park 

The first song of the performance sees Prince join the band Conversation Piece as a guitar player as they stomp through “No Diggity” and “Knee Deep.” Initially, I don’t hear Prince in “No Diggity,” it is the rhythm explosion at the end of each line that captures my attention, but midway through the song Prince’s guitar tone emerges as a smoky curl before storming the scene with its distinctive and commanding sound. There is some pushback from the horns later in the song which evens the balance, and they remain in firm focus for the following “Knee Deep.” The guttural sound of Prince's guitar buries itself in the heavy bass, leaving plenty of room for the horns to ply their trade. As a fan of both songs, I am fully on board, and the sound quality of this audience recording delivers the full sonic range, bringing an irrepressible smile to my face. There is the briefest of battles between the horns and the guitar, but Prince settles the argument with some light-fingered guitar work that should please most fans. 

All this is merely a warm-up for a version of “The Ride” that covers everything touched on so far and amplifies it to eleven. Its slow-cooked smokey sound is supplemented by a thick sauce of hornwork and crackling guitar fuzz that sharpens to a point by the minute, skewering the fat lazy sound that it otherwise has. The lyrics are almost forgotten, we are well adrift through the song before Prince takes the mic, not so much singing, but rather riffing easily on a couple of key lines that add to the atmosphere of the song. He doesn’t linger long on them, his guitar doing all the talking he needs as he lets it take flight for the final minutes of the song. 

 

It is the guitar that opens up the riff on “Miss You,” the instrument almost choking on the lyrical line. Prince’s vocal delivery comes from the same place, a primeval and raw sound that speaks to the sordid nature of the song. Mike Phillips is a revelation on this song, his horn casting a new light on it, lifting it from Mick Jagger’s grubby hands and into something even funkier. Prince brings his axe to bear upon the song one last time, torching it black and leaving it in the hands of the audience for a final singalong. 

I must admit, I didn’t know “A Real Mutha For Ya,” until I heard it here, and I certainly will make a point of digging out the original for a listen after hearing it. With Mike Scott on lead vocals, there isn’t a lot of Prince to be heard, at this point, it is hard to distinguish what instrument he is on, but it doesn’t matter as this is one song that belongs to the horn section, and the soft funk touch that the band brings to it. 

I am on safer ground with “I Know You Got Soul,” a song I am familiar with from other after-shows of the last twenty years. This version doesn’t swing as much as others I have heard, and is rather robotic in its delivery, stutter-stepping off the bass, before exploding out through the keyboards and horn section. The horns push far in their drive for new sounds, and the carcass of the song is left far behind as the horns ride the rhythm far out beyond the edge of familiarity and deep into their sound. “It Takes Two” appears briefly, but it is the horns that continue their quest beyond lyrics that hold sway, any sense of song lost in a jam that threatens to swallow the room. 

 

This sense of freedom continues through the following jam that follows, the bass taking center stage for a jagged and raw-edged jump into “(Theme Song From) Which Way Is Up.” The band plunge through the hole created by the bass, the horns scratching the sides of the song as we continue the long descent through the heart of the music. With only the horns and flashes of guitar brilliance from Prince to guide us, it is an immersive experience, and I am surprised to see that barely five minutes have passed as we emerge from the other side of the song. 

I remain disorientated by the kinetic opening to “Housequake,” the drum never quite settling into its regular pattern as we skim quickly over the surface of possible music. The vocals suggest we have arrived at the song properly, but there is little time to settle and gather my thoughts as the horns take over and the music changes gears again. 

There is no surprise to see the song appearing from the dark as “All The Critics Love U In Minneapolis,” the music driving and insistent as it comes into focus. It is of its era, and I have plenty of renditions like this from 2002 to 2004. The driving beat a bed for the horns section to perform across before the rest of the band add their own adornments to the song. As colorful as these adornments are, the rhythm section will always be paramount, and again we are served a tight groove that remains steady throughout the duration, making for a focused and driving version that we have become well acquainted with. 

 

Prince continues to mine the old school, with his take on Fred Wesley’s “House Party” giving plenty of time for the horn section to again burn bright. It is the trombone that blows the loudest, and Greg Boyer grabs all the headlines while Maceo takes on the vocal duties. While it’s not the most essential part of the show, it remains buoyant and keeps the party theme of the evening rolling. 

Prince’s opening lines from “Prince And The Band” have me briefly entertaining thoughts of a full version, but the ever-swelling waves of horn banish that thought as the tempo increases and the band threatens another jam. The return to the lyrics of “Prince And The Band” are welcome as Prince steers the ship back to where we started. The chop of the rhythm section opens up the song to a further segue, and before I know it Prince is singing “Illusion, Come, Pimp & Circumstance” It’s all part of an ever-evolving jam, the lyrics put to one side as first the horns, and then the piano rise in prominence, each briefly sparkling before the rhythm pushes us onto the next movement. 

We have a fresh start for “Glide,” a song that seems merely to serve the purpose of getting people up and dancing if Prince’s comments are anything to go by. It sounds good to my ears, the clean audience recording giving me a clear insight into what it must have been like inside the building at that time. The song never once rests through its entirety, and I am kept constantly moving through its groove and energy. The drum break mid-song could derail it, but it is kept light and maintains the groove as we rock and roll around the kit. John Blackwell doesn’t play heavy-handed during the break, and this is a fine example of his style and sees the song winding to a natural conclusion, the groove still rolling easily across the dance floor. 

 

“Brick House” isn’t as tightly focused as I have heard elsewhere, the introduction failing to grab me by my lapels and shaking me, but the trombone makes amends with its fat sound soaking the recording. Mike Scott brings his sound to the recording, an extra layer of funk added with his undulating guitar sound. It may not be the “Brick House” I want, but it is the “Brick House” that I deserve, Prince making the point emphatically with a stellar burst of guitar that flashes across the recording, brightening it for a minute in its brilliance. 

“Dear Mr. Man” grabs me in a headlock, holding me there and forcing me to appreciate its understated sonic joy. The bass and guitar operate on different parts of the spectrum, but in my headphones they create a fearful symbiosis, filling my head with dreams and nightmares that I never want to wake from. The music created has one imaging of galaxies unexplored, galaxies that only exist in the music and one's own mind, an undeniably powerful spell cast by the musicians onstage. 

The concert ends on a curious note, Prince harking back to his tour a couple of years previous with a surprising instrumental version of “The Rainbow Children.” It drips in maturity, and without lyrics, one can fully appreciate the pure musicality that exists behind the veil of religious text. The horn section grabs this final opportunity to strut their stuff in both hands, but it is John Blackwell who has the final say in the evening with one last rip around the drum kit that sends us out into the night. 

The is an excellent audience recording, and the show itself delivers much more than I expected. I saw the setlist full of covers and expected a quiet run through some of Prince’s favorite songs. However, the playing throughout was brilliant and I found myself enjoying this beyond all expectations. Prince has a finely balanced setlist and a band that can deliver all he needs. When matched with a quality recording like this, it is a match made in heaven and I can’t wait until next week and a chance to hear the second concert in this run.