Paisley Park 23 June 2002 (am)

 We have been in lockdown for a month now, and to be honest it hasn’t exactly been as I planned. I thought I would be updating my blog daily and enjoying some well-earned sleep. Instead, my sleep has been poor, and I have spent most of my days moping around the house feeling listless. But right now the sunshine is streaming through my windows, and I feel it is time to snap out of it and continue to enjoy Prince’s 2002 celebration. I am working my way through each of the nights, and today I will be listening to (rather loudly I might add) the second show from that run. It differs from the first show in its setlist, and indeed in its feel, as Prince plays an early morning show that is more aftershow than a proper concert. The setlist has me drooling from the start, and I can already see that with this particular band the setlist is pitched firmly at their individual talents. For any fan of the One Night Alone band, this is a mouth-water proposition, as you will soon see when I start listening. So, without further ado, let’s dive right in. 

23 June 2002 (a.m.), Paisley Park 

“Power Fantastic”.

Let me say that again – “Power Fantastic”. I am missing the opening “Rainbow Children” instrumental and the concert starts with “Power Fantastic”. My, my, my, what a dream come true. And even better, it lives up to the hype, sounding exquisite from the outset. Prince’s vocals ache and bend, all the while inviting the listener into his world. It’s not just a nod to his past though. He is fully invested in the moment as the band weaves its craft around him. With each line I find myself deeper and deeper into Prince’s universe, I am no longer a mere listener, but part of the experience as the song envelops me. People talk about songs having a life of their own, but here the song exists as a world unto itself. It is no longer something to be listened to but to be experienced on every level. Prince speaking to the crowd snaps me out of my reverie, and I am briefly disappointed to open my eyes and find I am still in the real world. 

 

Prince’s assertion that this is a rehearsal is borne out by “Extraordinary.” He calls out chords to the band, before stopping and starting again from the beginning. It is lush without becoming over-indulgent in the first few minutes. Prince keeps the song and the band tightly reined in, before allowing it to come to full bloom with several solos in the final minutes. The song frees itself of its previous shackles as Renato explores the boundaries with his keyboard solo, a solo that highlights just why he is so vital to this band. When Prince returns to the vocals the song tilts again, throwing us back into something all the more structured and familiar, but nowhere near as much fun. 

“Here On Earth” rises slowly, languidly, from the ether. It remains a stranger to me throughout, I can’t quite penetrate its lazy facade, and as it drifts smokily by there is nothing that draws me in. As a mood, it fits in well with the rest of the evening, but nothing is outstanding about it and it becomes faceless around its esteemed colleges. 

Prince gives us another rare treat with his performance of “With You”. Like a fine wine it has aged well, and in this performance has an earthy warmth to it that lingers on the ear. With no sharp edges, it could become as toothless as the previous song, but Prince injects enough of his personality into it to give it shape and life. He delivers the last line with a wistfulness that has him briefly looking back before the next song snaps us back to the present day. 

An instrumental “Pearls B4 The Swine” is the meat and potatoes of this band, and although short has them playing to their signature sound. Led by the piano, the band plays with a lightness of touch, an easy airiness that gives the song space and room. Unfortunately, it is all too short and leaves me wanting more in the best possible way. 

 

“The Ghetto” belongs to Maceo Parker with his sound firmly stamped across it. Prince gives him plenty of time to show us what he can do, and he provides us a good couple of minutes of swirling sax before Prince comes to the microphone. There isn’t much more to Prince’s contribution as the crowd joins before leaving Maceo to again dominate. Even when Prince breaks into “Prince and The Band,” it stays firmly in the realm of his surrounding players as they continue to give light to the performance. Singing about the ghetto has never sounded so good, nor so liberating. 

I don’t recall the last time I heard “Sweet Baby,” and as it slowly reveals its charms I wonder why I don’t give it a spin more often. It is a testament to Prince’s impressive back catalog that a gem like this is barely mentioned when discussing his canon. As I once more reacquainted I quietly rejoice in its subtle charms. It doesn’t know its own beauty, and it’s only after the passing of years that we see what was really there all along, a song as easy and natural as you like, just waiting for us to rediscover. Such is the wonder of this setlist, as Prince digs deeper into his past bringing unexpected joys. 

 

Prince digs further into the vault for “When The Lights Go Down,” a song that deserved better than appearing on a compilation album. Paired with the previous “Sweet Baby,” we get some sense of where its roots might lay. But where “Sweet Baby” had a teenage innocence, “When The Lights Go Down” brings sophistication as Prince speaks of more adult themes. I enjoy both for what they are, but I appreciate the former for its pure joy, while the latter has my heart for its musical muscle. As a one-two punch, this is the beating heart of the concert. 

One could well imagine this band coming up with “Strollin,” a song that predates them by ten years. There is no need for them to bend the song to their sound, it is already there. With Renato and Maceo in the band, they pick up the central sound of the song and run with it, dragging it forward into new territory, while remaining firmly with the same vibe that always infused it. “Strollin'” is familiar, but not once becoming stale as the band plays with a light touch and adds just enough of something new to keep my ear closely listening throughout. 

“Gotta Broken Heart Again,” practically drips out of the speakers as Prince spins his tale of woe. The band adds weight to the song, in particular, Maceo’s solo updates it for 2002, and future-proofs it for us listening today. Prince could have become overwrought in his delivery, but he remains restrained, and with the touches added by Maceo, it stays above its lyrical content. 

 

I could write a long list of potential cover versions for Prince, but I don’t think I could have foreseen a cover of a James Taylor song. “You’ve Got A Friend” works well in this context, it is evidently well known to the crowd as they can be heard singing along throughout. It does run out of steam after the third minute, and what promised so much fails to deliver in the second half. I may not enjoy the second half so much, but the first minutes were so good that I can see this may well be a song I will be returning to in the future. 

As much as I looked forward to “Pop Life,” what I hear in this case is disappointing. It lacks focus, and Prince’s vocals suffer through too much echo. His voice becomes a blunt instrument. Delicacy and nuance are lost to the echo and as much as I try I can’t listen past it. I wish for more, but I can’t undo what has been done, the more I listen the more frustrated I become. I remind myself of all the great songs that have come previously, which only makes me regret this last song further. The redeeming feature comes late in the song as Renato goes to work, Prince’s vocals no longer at the forefront of the song as his piano man kicks into high gear to round out the song. Oh yes, that’s much better now, and we finally end on a high. 

And so ends this second part of Prince’s 2002. It would be lazy of me to call this set and Prince’s band “jazz-inspired,” but there is no doubt from which well they are drawing their inspiration. However, what elevates this band though is their ability to stretch and knead Prince’s material, pulling it further into the dark, or into the light, as required. This setlist plays on their strengths, all the while giving them the freedom to move the material as they see fit. As a reminder of the symbiotic relationships Prince has with his bands, this is a fine example, and even twenty years on one can hear the push and pull of Prince and his band. Ignoring the final “Pop Life,” this is a good record of the band in their prime, and the era in general.