Listening back to The Rainbow Children album now I am struck by just how muscular and bold the songs are in a live setting. While the album has a smooth polished sheen, in live performance Prince adds depth and a sense of danger that doesn’t exist in the studio recordings. His shades are darker, while the colored accents are brighter, making for a larger sound that carries more texture and contrast than on record. This is no small part of the power of the band he is playing with, and we could draw countless examples from the run of concerts I have listened to recently. The band draws strength from his new material, and presenting this challenge to the audience only reinforces the resolve of both Prince and the band. That makes the final concert of 2002 a curiosity as Prince plays most of the evening alone at the piano, barely touching the new songs as he instead indulges the audience with a series of deep cuts from the past. This is Prince the contrarian, after denying the audience vast sections of his back-catalog the doors are suddenly flung open for this show. It’s an intriguing listen as he sketches out the type of concert that he will later return to for his Piano and Microphone shows fifteen years later. An oddity among his run of One Night Alone concerts, it stands alone and shed off all context and sense of time and place.
28th June 2002 (am). Paisley Park
Najee doesn’t always get the credit he deserves in the Prince community, but I’m going to put all my cards on the table – I like him. His opening flute solo comes like sunlight flicking through the leaves, never settling on one refrain while moving us forward into the atmosphere Prince wants to create. His performance is deceiving, it will be very much Prince alone after this, but he creates a safe space in his first minutes that gives Prince and the audience time to soak in the moment.
Prince’s first song at the piano is the entirely fitting “One Nite Alone.” The slow current of the song pulls us into the concert, Prince letting the music trickle and eddy at his fingertips while caressing the lyrics gently with his vocal delivery. It’s not quite a magical moment, but it hints at the type of concert we are about to experience.
“Adore” was heard regularly throughout the One Night Alone tour and the version here is faithful to what we have heard previously. The divinity of the song from earlier in the tour has dissipated by this stage, and although it touches on a heavenly sound in places, Prince’s spoken piece mid-song feels overdone. To hear it the first time is humorous, but anyone who has listened to many One Night Alone concerts may tire of it. Sadly this is the camp I fall into, although I appreciate that many might still enjoy it. Admittedly it gets a lot better in the second half of the song.
Prince gives us a double shot from his past with the following “I Wanna Be Your Lover” and “Do Me, Baby.” The contrast between the two is interesting, “I Wanna Be Your Lover” coming with raggedy energy while “Do Me, Baby” has Prince poring over the lyrics, each word dripping with want and lust. It is “Do Me, Baby” which draws the largest cheer from the audience and they are rewarded with a short but aching version that matches expectations.
Even better is the version of “Condition Of The Heart” that follows. Abridged from what is heard on the album, Prince still manages to hit all the key spots. There is no feeling of being cheated as Prince gives an emotional precis of his beloved tune. As a sketch, he fleshes out just enough to bring the song to life without dwelling on it too long.
“U’re Gonna C Me” is slight, there is very little to latch onto and at times it does feel like Prince is creating an atmosphere rather than crafting out his song. It requires close listening as the concert draws in around Prince’s hushed vocals. This is the live debut of “U’re Gonna C Me,” and the stillness of the audience suggests that they are listening just as closely as I am.
Loud cheers greet “Empty Room,” one can only assume that I’m not the only one out there listening to bootlegs. The opening line and history of the performance are immediately undone by Prince speaking to the crowd. It derails the mood of those first few moments of recognition and palpably excitement. However, the uniqueness of the moment is restored as he returns to the song. Supported slightly by the band, it is the gentle performance that the song deserves, and the lightness of touch from Najee adds just a crack of light to Prince’s despairing lyrics. The teasing opening by Prince is soon forgiven and with a well-balanced rendition that again pulls at the heartstrings, it gains a luster. I lose myself in the music for the next few minutes as the world melts away behind the veil of affecting lyrics and melodramatic vocal delivery.
The familiar “How Come U Don’t Call Me Anymore” pales in comparison, and the addition of the full band early detracts from rather than enhances the performance. One can see why it is here in the concert, but it doesn’t have the depth of the other material and suffers from over-familiarity. While one rejoices to see a song such as “Condition Of The Heart” in the setlist, “How Come U Don’t Call Me Anymore” has been heard plenty of times over the years and can’t compare.
I should have the same feeling for “Nothing Compares 2 U,” yet I can’t help but be warmed by the appearance of Eric Leeds and all he brings to the song. The fact that it is much shorter than the previous song also helps its cause and in this case, less is more. Prince still gives us what we need from the song, but he doesn’t overwork the material and lets the song stand on its own. The only thing missing is perhaps a strong counter vocal, but with Eric Leeds on stage, there is nothing to gripe about here.
Prince’s speech gives thanks, but for me, the most interesting part comes with an audience member calls “I love you,” to which Prince responds “I love U 2, but not the band.” He follows this with “But Bono’s cool. That’s pretty slick, calling your band U2, every day someone’s giving you love.”
Prince’s history with U2 is well documented with his famous quote “But you’ll be sitting there at the Grammys, and U2 will beat you and you say to yourself, ‘Wait a minute. I can play that kind of music, too. But you will not do ‘Housequake.”
Add to that Bono’s disastrous appearance at an aftershow in the ’90s and we can see U2 gets a bad rap in the Prince world. But it is heartening to hear Prince say something positive about Bono at this concert and it seems he is at peace with his place in the world. His religious beliefs and maturity are at odds with the combative mood of the world at the time, and this brief speech gives equilibrium to the past.
The concert increases in intensity for a forceful rendition of “Shake.” Built primarily around a keyboard riff and crowd chant it is a primeval stomp that appeals to the raw side of me. The piano draws heavily from the “Automatic” groove and it is no surprise to hear Prince dip into those lyrics. Delivered with a husky growl it adds another layer to the song and propels it beyond the “Shake” chorus. It is deceivingly simple, but one revels in the groove of the song after a concert of slower ballads.
There comes a surprising performance next with NPGMC member Connie Castillo pulled from the crowd for a karaoke rendition of “Manic Monday.” With Prince playing his baroque lines almost like a harpsichord the song has a lightness that immediately lifts the concert. It is the most heartwarming song of the show, and the joy of the audience seeing one of their own on stage carries the performance. The final cheer is as much for the courage of the Connie as the song itself, and although I probably wouldn’t return to the song it remains my favorite part of the concert.
We have another live debut next with “Soul Sanctuary.” It remains faithful to the album version and retains warmth. With the lightest of brush strokes, Najee rounds out Prince’s piano and gives the song just enough muscle to stand out in a setlist of piano songs. The song elicits several loud cheers, and it is obvious that the crowd enjoys it just as much as I do.
“God” is a sprawling celebration of the players in the band besides Prince, the shape of the song barely formed in Prince’s piano part before he hands it over to the saxophone and later Rachelle Ferrell. Both pull the song to their strengths, and Prince’s original becomes barely a light on a distant shore as the music ventures into new sonic waters. It is a gentle exploration of the song even as the band joins Prince, and although it pushes almost twenty minutes it still feels as if the band has places to go. When I first saw “God” in the setlist, I could have never expected this, and it delights in its unexpected experimentation and exploration of a well-worn theme.
There is a community spirit present for “Last December,” the song carried at first by Prince’s speech and the clapping of the audience. It quickly morphs into something all the more powerful, the force of the band behind it driving it far beyond this tranquil opening. There is much to recommend in it, Prince’s vocals are answered with a counter punch from the guitar, not too hard but enough to remind us what a weapon the guitar is in his hands. As the dust settles, and the song falls subdued at the feet of this guitar work, Prince brings his full attention to bear on some outstanding guitar playing that kneads the music into a fuller and more expressive sound.
There is just enough time to draw a breath before the opening strains of “Purple Rain” casts us back into the purple sea of that era. Overplayed for many, there is no understating its quiet dignity and importance in Prince’s canon. This version draws from the opening piano work, making for an expressive yet light rendition of the beloved behemoth. There is no guitar bellow to end the song, Prince forgoing it for a quiet speech about his spiritual beliefs. It fits in well with the flow of the song, and after years of hearing “Purple Rain” overworked, I quite enjoy his quiet moment of reflection.
Although this would be a splendid way to finish the concert, Prince instead chooses to indulge us with one more jam. There is plenty in there for the Prince aficionado to pick apart, the groove drawing from “The Greatest Romance Ever Sold” and “Anna Stesia.” We get “Party until the sun comes up” chants, a wave of saxophones, and Prince singing the lyrics of “Anna Stesia,” in a manner removed from what is heard on the album, the cold loneliness instead plugged into a groove and subservient to what the rest of the band of doing. The horn work comes sharply into focus and carries the song both musically and emotionally as the feel of the song bleeds through my speakers. A close listen reveals the piano is still busy underneath, and some heavy keyboard from Prince helps steal the moment from the horns. With Larry Graham in the mix, this is a typical jam that we are all familiar with over the years, a long-drawn-out groove, plenty of audience moments, and one last chance for Prince to flex his musical muscle.
And as this concert ends, so too does my musical adventure through the 2002 Celebration. This journey started from a comment on social media that these concerts are often overlooked, and I have been just as guilty of that as anyone. These shows are drawn from Prince’s creative peak of 2002 and sit at the very heart of his creativity, Paisley Park, and his spiritual beliefs. This final concert is the equal of all that has proceeded it, yet as with each of these seven concerts, it is its own beast and throws yet another light on Prince at that time. All these seven concerts are uniquely special, all drawn from the same source yet presented in different forms. It would be impossible for me to choose one over another. The best way to hear these concerts is to take them as a whole -set aside half a day and reacquaint yourself with them, it is well worth the effort.
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