Paisley Park 18 June 2004 (am)

 This week I continue listening to the trio of after-shows Prince played at Paisley Park as his Musicology tour rolled into town. Each show is unique, and as much as I enjoyed the first of the three last week, this week’s show ups the stakes and looks even better. The setlist is shorter, but the songs played are stretched out further than in the previous show, giving the band more time to embed themselves deeply in the music they are creating. The sound is sophisticated with the maturity of the band shining through, and once again we are faced with a sublime audience recording, all the better for catching the nuances of the performance. 

18th June 2004(am) Paisley Park 

The jazz influence is heavy from the first moments, and the intricate piano flourishes that Chance Howard provides “Footprints” sparkle and burst out of the recording. I had expected more horn work, but the keyboard remains at the heroic center of the song, giving the performance a jazzy, lilting feel that lingers throughout the entire twelve minutes of “Footprints.” 

The previous show saw “Dear Mr. Man” appear late in the setlist, this time around it is in the front seat and driving the concert from the beginning. It picks up the jazz strands of the previous song and twists them up with some funk squelch, giving the song a two-pronged attack that feels good on many levels. The lyrics remain key to the song, despite the music competing for attention, and one can feel Prince’s message as much as hear it as he sings his lyrics. It’s early to the concert to lavish praise, but this song stands out as a highlight from its first note to its last. 

 

“I Know You Got Soul,” is a staple of shows such as this, and here it takes the stage and doesn’t let go for twenty minutes as Prince and the band wrings every ounce of soul they can from it. From the elongated introduction that takes the groove and loops it to heavenly levels, to Mike Scott’s effortless guitar grease, the song continues to snake through the recording, keeping the concert moving beneath Prince’s command. The horns add further impetus to the music, but it is an easy drive with Prince staying on top of the music throughout with his relaxed command of the stage. The song continues as a simmer, never reaching boiling point but continuing to cook as the horns add a heat that hits the feet as much as the head. 

With a laugh “Skin Tight” begins, continuing with Prince’s rummage through the funk and soul of the 1970s. Surprisingly he doesn’t take the vocal duties, instead, letting the band carry the load as he embeds himself deeper in their midst. The song blooms and grows in ways not heard elsewhere, the raw funk supplemented by a colorful arrange of horn work, and some Mike Phillips vocoder, something that always makes me smile. The overall feel is one of looseness, and a band having fun on stage, a feeling that translates nicely to the recording. 

There is a lack of intensity to “D.M.S.R,” the song slowly appears from the previous song and remains formless for the first minute until the drum and bass finally take control and shape it into the song we are familiar with. The horns and bass are the twin towers that stand at the center of the song, although Prince’s constant call for the drums suggests he thinks otherwise. As always Mike Scott brings the chicken grease and combined with the horns gives the song a brightness that belies the otherwise heavy bass and drum sound. A reappearance of the vocoder is welcome, although it is given quite a while and has me laughing with crazy delight. It’s all capped off by some Maceo Parker playing that is to be treasured, his horn finding new ways to define the music and add his own distinctive funk style to the moment. 

 

“House Party” is another song that reappears from the previous night, Maceo staying the center of attention as again he attends to vocal duties. The song is a slow burn, Prince calling dancers to stage long before Maceo takes to the microphone, the music steadily building on the back of the groove. There is a sense of release as Maceo sings, the true nature of the song revealed as the band live the lyrics, their own house party swirling around them as they play. 

There is a stark boldness to “Sexy Dancer,” the song looking us straight in the eye as the band gives it a fierce backbone and inner intensity. This is no mere disco groove, this is a song that has matured over the years, a song that now has a hardness to it that no longer asks you to dance, but rather insists you dance. Listening carefully, there is some tasty piano work that starts deep in the song before burrowing its way to the surface, exposed to the light for all to appreciate the light joy it plays with. It counters the raw groove, and Mike Phillips's contribution with the saxophone a minute later comes from the other end of the scale, raining down from the sky upon the song, his horn as forceful as the groove of the bass and drums. It makes for a lively mix, the song demanding attention throughout as each player brings something different to the mix, never quite settling on a single sound. 

It is a groove that serves as the introduction for the next song, the horns refrain rising “Mustang Sally” out of music. It is a Trojan horse, a burst of guitar that could only come from Prince hinting that we might be in for something else entirely. As the groove of “Prince And The Band” continues, the guitar rises in intensity, Prince devoting more and more attention to his instrument until it eventually steams into “Peach” It is hard for me to dissociate the song from Mayte and her hot pants, but Prince plays with a steady and controlled intensity that has me forgetting my teenage infatuation and instead fully focusing on the guitar energy at hand as he runs up and down his fretboard. The guitar eventually gives way to Prince singing “Prince And The Band,” a moment that can’t compare to what we have just heard from his guitar work. One final flurry restores the balance as the song ends on a high, leaving me very happy indeed. 

 

The dark elegance of “Beautiful Strange,” floors me, especially as the recording captures its slow-moving melancholy while it drifts across the stage. The architectural weight of the introduction collapses beneath the pressure of the bass and guitar, the strange yet beautiful opening minutes disappearing beneath waves of electric rubble. Prince’s forlorn guitar howl emerges from this debris, it’s wail is a beacon amidst the dense bass growl, giving us a sense of something to hold onto. The song continues in this fashion, the sea of noise swamping the recording, while Prince’s guitar continues to float over top with its own agenda, at once competing with the rest of the band and yet at the same time complementing it. It is the keyboard that lays the song to rest, Prince’s guitar staying silent as the keyboard squeaks and shrieks its own unknown message out into the darkness, once again shrouding the song in mystery as it comes to an end. 

I enjoyed the previous show immensely, and I am only too happy to say this one tops it. With the shorter setlist, the songs speak for themselves, and have plenty of time to stand on their own feet, their true personalities revealed as they play. “Dear Mr. Man,” and “Beautiful Strange,” are the obvious highlights, each bringing a sense of integrity to a concert that is otherwise drenched in fun. With a quality audience recording, I can easily recommend anyone who has grown tired of the Musicology tour and wants to hear something more demanding from the same period, a concert that retains the key elements of the era, but with an added dash of intensity and solemnity.