Detroit 9 April 2015

 It’s been quite a journey over the past couple of months as we trawl through the bootlegs originating from Prince’s Detroit shows, but today we reach the end of that journey with his Fox Theatre concert of 2015. There is some sadness to this post, in the last few weeks we have covered the full gamut of Prince’s career, the highs, the lows, and all the in-betweens, but today’s concert is his last from Detroit, and sadly just a year before his passing. Prince may be gone, but what remains is a testament to his unwavering dedication to live music, and ever-expanding musical horizons, both for himself and his audience. I will treat today’s listening experience as a celebration of Prince’s life, and the hours of pleasure I have gained from his music. 

9th April 2015, Fox Theatre, Detroit 

Hello 3rdeyegirl, it’s been too long. This blog started when 3rdeyegirl were at their peak, and as much as I always enjoyed the shows at the time, I have been rare to revisit them since. It is with fresh ears that I listen to the introduction music “Million $ Show,” here sounds far more like a manifesto for the next two hours than I had previously realized. The lyric ” Welcome to the million $ show, this is something that you never seen before, welcome to the million $ show, this the kind music make you lose control” jumps out to me as a statement of intent. I was thinking as I started this, that it had been a while since Prince had last played Detroit, and this is confirmed by his statement that it had been eleven years. “Let’s Go Crazy,” begins the onslaught of music, the rhythm section heavy and lumbering, yet the guitar packed with a crunch and thrilling excitement that this is something new for Prince. The solo feels embedded deep in the bedrock of the song, this is no solo that disappears off into oblivion, instead, it remains a servant of the heavy riff, pushing at the edges of the music without breaking through the constraints of the sound.  It comes as a heavy blow, a strong body shot that hits you in the gut rather than snapping your head back. 

From the same era, “Take Me With U,” excites both in its familiar uplifting refrain and in the way the band lifts it far beyond the heavy grind of the previous song. It is at this point that I remember that it is a soundboard recording, thus every nuance and inflection Prince adorns the song with can be heard. In particular, the vocals of Liv Warfield bring a further lightness that was nowhere to be seen in the opening minutes.  It’s not a particularly important part of the concert, but it does play to the more nostalgic of those in the audience. 

There springs forth a new sound in “Raspberry Beret,” an almost child-like sounding keyboard that at moments sounds like a kid's toy. This only heightens the feeling of youthfulness in the music, and although I find myself distracted by it, it is an essential part of the mood and spirit that Prince is evoking onstage. 

A guitar playing a funk riff underpins “U Got The Look,” and although I spent a long time listening to it, I can’t quite pinpoint where I have heard it before. It matters little, but it does add some slip and glide to the song, even as Prince does his best to weigh it down with his guitar work. The song has its own energy, it lifts off without Prince’s help, and his guitar merely colors it rather than controls it. In a longer rendition, Prince may have had more time to readdress this balance, but I like it for what it is, a refreshed and revamped version of a song that had become stale. 

It is 10 years on since the Musicology tour, and the song itself takes on a different feel with this pared-down band. With the NPG horns supplementing 3rdeyegirl it does have the full sound of the 2004 tour, yet at the same time, it feels sharper, less flabby, and far more precise than previously. It is no longer an extended showcase for real music played by real musicians, rather it touches on the feeling of an aftershow as Saeeda Wright takes the band through “Mama Feelgood,” before a quick sax solo again gives it an aftershow feel. 

The sampler set falls early in the overall setlist, it feels rushed to me, as if Prince wants to display all his gifts as early as possible. I have no problem with the music however, “When Doves Cry,” comes as a plaintive cry in the dark, a cry that is picked up by the crowd, bringing the song full circle as they take it from its barren and lonely sound to a communal experience for the singalong chorus. This is further heightened with the briefest call and response that ends the song, both Prince and the audience reliving a younger version of themselves. 

Contrasts and tensions build “Sign O The Times,” into something that threatens and comforts in equal measure. There is vitriol in the underlying guitar work, but Prince’s vocals have a warmth and looseness to them, he even ad-libs a line about “This ain’t September, it’s June.” This casualness does nothing to undermine the seriousness of the songs, and despite the light touches, it remains a dark warning from the front page of the newspapers. 

With its alien synth sound, “Hot Thing” beams in with its intergalactic funk leading us willingly back to the dance floor. Lyrically it is no match for the preceding “Sign O The Times,” but it wears its own funk credentials with pride, and the next few minutes leave us marinating in the funk of 1987. 

“Nasty Girl” is barely worth mentioning, 2015 Prince was never going to pull those lyrics out, despite his willingness to indulge us with an instrumental that barely makes it to the minute mark. He is far more indulgent when it comes to “Housequake.” It is not as demanding as we heard in the 1980s, it asks no questions that we don’t have the answer to, but it is a sweet indulgence. I miss the days of Eric Leeds as the horns come to the party, but in compensation, we have the most delicate of guitar solo’s from Donna that tip-toes across the end of the song, lifting it gently from the heavy funk and briefly showing us the stars before she lowers it back to the rhythm section. 

There is a flatness to “I Would Die 4 U,” a lack of energy, that surprises me. This is one song that finds a way to sparkle even in the most dreary of circumstances, but here it remains firmly 2-dimensional and stuck to the page. Perhaps Prince senses this, and after a minute he quickly calls for the segue into “Cool.” It is the horns that both lead the music, and drive it forward, their rich sound not just supplementing the synth, but in places supplanting it. Normal service resumes as the vocal trio of Liv, Saeeda, and Ashley pick up the song and bend it to their style. There is never any doubt though, that this is Prince’s song, and as he throws down his boastful lyrics there is no mistaking this is a song that he may well have written about himself. 

The funk that lies in Prince’s guitar stings is revealed in the opening of “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” as he gives a brief masterclass in the sound of the funk guitar. The rest of the song doesn’t live up to this opening promise, the band is too smooth, too polished, to stink up the funk sound, but they are more than capable of keeping up with Prince and his musical whims. As he leads them down a rabbit hole of funk, they gladly follow him, disappearing into the swirl of “Play That Funky Music” Any thoughts of the band vanish as Prince’s guitar stands proud at the heart of the song, a raised fist in the face of the previously sedate sound. It brings danger to the moment, there is no sign of a riot, but it does suggest an undertone of aggression that I wouldn’t normally associate with the song. 

“Controversy” isn’t just revamped, it is completely overhauled to reveal the massive groove engine that lies beneath its sleek exterior.  Through the first few gears, it remains as expected, but by the time the horns arrive we are into overdrive and the horns punch it forward with an exhilarating rush of acceleration and sense of purpose. 30 years on, and “Controversy” still delivers. 

Prince stays in the past with a plodding version of “1999.” I applaud it for being a full version, and an arrangement that remains loyal to the album, but it fails to spark anything inside of me, and indeed sounds rather lifeless itself. I wait hopefully for something, anything, to happen, but it remains willfully low-key and flat. 

We are reconnected for “How Come U Don’t Call Me Anymore,” as Prince pulls me close with his lyrics and piano playing, a piano that sounds just as emotionally invested, and playful, as his vocal delivery. It is more delicate than heard on other tours, there are tours where he bangs it out with a great swing, pivoting on the rhythm in his hands, but in this case, it remains a delicate operation, Prince delicately picking the notes purposefully and letting them carry the weight of the song. An old favorite, this rendition reminds me why I keep going back to the older material. 

“Little Red Corvette” has a smooth pop sheen that seems more in tune with modern radio, and one could easily see this arrangement appearing on modern playlists. It is a mature rendition, befitting a man in his fifties, and the raw emotional edge that the original had is burnished to a fine, almost too delicate, point. It is the final minutes where Prince has to inject the emotion into the song, breaking it down to speak directly to the crowd before the emotive sing-a-long gives the song to the audience, their singing washing back and forth across the bootleg, bringing the concert right into the room. 

The most striking thing about “Nothing Compares 2 U” is the opening keyboard which sounds as if it could well have been lifted from the Beatles during their late 60s heyday. It pulls me out of the concert temporarily and leaves me floating with a whiff of nostalgia, heartbreak, and loss. Prince builds on these feelings with his lyrics, especially as he injects himself right into the story with his line “Where did Prince go wrong” It is lacking the female counterpoint that has been previously present in all of Prince’s previous performances, but Prince carries the song himself, and there is a female influence with Cassandra O’Neal’s keyboard solo that spins the song further into psychedelic landscapes. 

“Kiss” is lightweight in comparison to these two songs, and as good as it is, there is no doubt in my mind that it suffers for its position in the setlist. 

Contemporary might be the first word that springs to mind for “Clouds,” and after a string of Prince’s older tunes, it is refreshing to be again thrust into the present. The concert may have firmly rocked for the first half hour, but we are far from that with “Clouds” and the concert feels a lot fresher for it. 

A medley dominates the next ten minutes, and Prince lets Liz, Saeeda, and Ashley loose on a string of songs from the musical past, demonstrating his sense of place in the music continuum and a willingness to educate the audience.  He is open to sharing the spotlight with the other players on stage, and Liz, Saeeda, and Ashley all take their turns to keep this medley flowing. “Yes We Can Can,” “Thankful N’ Thoughtful,” “You’re The One,” and “Green Garden” all make an appearance, causing me to go back myself and search out the originals, thus stretching my own musical knowledge further than expected. “Green Garden” is the emphatic exclamation mark that finishes this medley, Judith Hill stirring the music into a different flavor with her fully bodied vocal performance, a vocal perfection that would be called barn-burning, if not for the final blazing guitar break by Prince that burns the song to the ground, leaving us standing in the smoldering remains as the vocals return to cool the heat and close out the song. 

3rdeyegirl emerges from the ashes for “She’s Always In My Hair.” The song plugs into something raw and real and is one of the few genuine moments of the recording that stirs the heart. Donna’s guitar break opens the door on the heart of the song, and it is Prince who plummets to the core of emotion, his guitar solo fluttering ribbons of euphoria behind him as he plunges deeper into the raw nerved center. His axe carves out great swathes of emotion, each too big to digest fully in one listening, his playing conveying the intensity of emotional landscapes he is walking through, thoughtfully plucking notes from the air late in the song as less and less becomes more and more. 

There is a thoughtful opening to “Purple Rain” as Prince treads his way slowly into the song from “She’s Always In My Hair.” It is only a short opening, but long enough to let the dust settle from the previous song. “Purple Rain” makes its entrance with a familiarity that undoes some of the emotional depths I wish to draw from it, but it retains enough of its former grandeur for me to lose myself in the next few minutes. The band strolls easily through the opening verses and chorus, and it is at the guitar solo where we are suddenly confronted by the reality of the song, it is merely a vehicle to carry the most epic of Prince guitar solos, everything building to this point where he releases all that the Purple Rain era and experiences promised, here it is made real as his guitar builds a wall of wailing, howling, shuddering, emotion turned into music, and then it reaches the point where Prince is not longer channeling music, but instead channels everything else that music carries to us- joy, loss, sadness, heartbreak and hope, all of it wrapped up in a three-minute solo that no matter how often I hear it still shakes me to the core. 

From such epic heights, we are brought firmly into the here and now, and back inside the four walls, for a party-starting version of “Act Of God.” Sure, the lyrics speak of some serious matters, but the music is instantly playful, and it’s hard not to feel my feet moving as I listen. With its infectious rhythm, it gets things moving, and we have a delightful few minutes of keyboard work that gives way to Marcus and his horn, which for me is the real heart of the song and the highlight of the next few minutes. 

This is swing and funk is maintained and the band effortlessly glides into “What Have You Done For Me Lately,” a song that belongs to the band for the next few minutes as they dust it off,  infuse it with some energy, and send it spinning out into the crowd. There is no drama at all, it's all groove, and music that one can’t help but smile with. The medley continues through  “Northside,” “Theme From Which Way Is Up,” “Partyman,” and “Dancing Machine.” Some squelching bass underpins all of it, and with the horns adding flurries of brass over top, it becomes a storming performance, Liv and Shelby guiding us through this blizzard of a performance. There is the feeling that we are avalanching towards the end of the show, all tumbling and upside down, and downside up, as we rush through these songs, one last chance for the band to demonstrate their skills before we emerge from the other side and into the bright light of another sampler set. 

With only the piano for accompaniment, Prince gives us a taste of “Diamonds And Pearls.” It is merely an entree to a piano set that will soon enough give way to the sampler set. “The Beautiful Ones” pick up where “Diamonds and Pearls” left off, the piano flourishes thrilling it their briefness and suggestion of a colorful performance to suit, and it is a disappointment to hear “Darling Nikki” cut it short as it opens a second sampler set. 

“Darling Nikki” teases the audience beyond comprehension, and “If I Was Your Girlfriend” has the same effect on me here at home. Neither goes anywhere beyond an opening tease, and it is a reverb infused “Forever In My Life” that gets a much longer play. And by much longer, I mean a verse and chorus. It’s not much, but I’ll take it at this time. 

These teases continue, “Alphabet St” giving no time to ripen, it is criminally cut short before it comes to fruition and the following “The Most Beautiful Girl In The World” fares even worse, as Prince makes it clear in his speaking, he is just staking out his territory as far as hits go. 

“A Love Bizarre” signals that perhaps Prince will give a complete performance, but that too quickly morphs into “The X’s Face” and “U Know,” both so short that there is barely enough time to register them before Prince moves to the next song. 

There is some hope for me with “Pop Life,” I enjoy the verse that Prince delivers, and at least I get to sing along with the chorus before he switches to bass for “777-9311.” I don’t enjoy the sampler aspect, but Prince’s bass makes it all worthwhile, bringing a hardness to the sound, and grounding it firmly in the category of real music by real musicians. A better mix, with the bass turned right up, would have been heart-stopping, but even as it is I am thrilled with its inclusion. 

Although from another era, “The Love We Make,” feels like the right way, the only way, to end this gig. Prince’s lyrics strip back all the glamour and glitz, revealing another spiritual message that speaks to everyone, a message of hope, positivity, and universal love that he has sung about so often. The song stands alone at the end of this show, the band paying homage at its feet with a rendition that cuts to the core of the song and makes it resonate in a way that is seldom heard elsewhere in this show. Donna’s final guitar break reaches for the heavens, the sound of righteous joy and a spiritual fulfillment found through the pureness of the music itself. It's a quiet ending to a concert that started with a whirlwind of rock n roll, but it leaves me with a feeling of satisfaction and a well-rounded experience. 

This show is a balancing act between the rock of 3rdeyegirl and the funk of the NPG horns. Prince treads a fine line, and with a soundboard bootleg to match the concert, it is more apparent than ever just how good he was at taking disparate styles and blending them in a concert that retains balance. Some of the sampler moments were overworked, but this is tempered by the emotional highs that are achieved on several songs, and to be fair, if the concert was all emotional highs I would be exhausted by the end of it. One of the most well-known of Prince’s bootlegs in the last five years, one can appreciate why this is held in high regard. It never threatens his 1980s work, but it does play with a maturity that as an adult I can clutch onto in turbulent times. Like warm comfort food, this bootleg always makes me feel good, and I guess there can be no better recommendation than that.