Is the purple reign over?
[From The Scotsman, thanks Griddus -Ben]

CD OF THE WEEK

FIONA SHEPHERD

Prince: Musicology

NPG RECORDS, £14.99

The artist who once asked us not to call him Prince has just embarked on a massive US tour, his biggest in six years. It has been suggested this will be the last time he plays all the old hits for fans. In other words, it’s probably the first of many farewell tours. Because Prince never can say goodbye.

The artist we are now allowed to call Prince again is an obsessive compulsive musician, releasing album after album whether anyone was interested or not. For the past decade he has churned out a stream of patchy releases, to the general indifference of all but a crack team of maniacal Prince enthusiasts with a high tolerance for eccentric guff.

Musicology is his first release in years to register on the commercial radar. Reluctantly, it has to be said that it’s not great. It is the Prince equivalent of Bowie’s Heathen album - acceptable sonic relief after years of tedium. It is palatable. It has a promising title and is accompanied by a tour of the same name. In addition, he was recently inducted into the Rock ’n’ Roll Hall Of Fame. Prince is back in favour, if not in vogue.

Musical nostalgia being a cyclical beast, people will soon start unearthing neglected copies of his classic 1980s albums and musing about how, in a world without Prince, there would be no OutKast, or equivalent funk soul brothers, and short, ugly men such as Har Mar Superstar would have a much harder job masquerading as international sex symbols. See? The rumination has started already. And all as a result of this average Prince album.

But what else can he do? He needs to sell CDs again or his cravat bill will never be paid. Did anyone really expect him to be a trailblazer forever? Now in his mid-forties, Prince is, instead, settling into the role of elder funk statesman. Sheila E plays the shaker on one track, so it’s practically a Prince & The Revolution reunion.

The first important thing to note about Musicology is that it contains no out-and-out Prince nonsense and is therefore safe to approach. It’s safe in other ways, too. Now a Jehovah’s Witness, Prince has toned down the filth. Illusion, Coma, Pimp & Circumstance - an irreverent tale of a relationship of convenience set to an archetypally sparse funk arrangement - and On The Couch, a turgid bluesy smooch from the Barry White school of mechanical seduction, are as naughty as it gets. Now Prince’s idea of how to "treat U right" is to "buy U flowers every single day". These days, he gets his rocks off by throwing a groovy little dance party. We can gauge how wild his soirees are because, according to the cumbersome funk track Life ‘O’ The Party, "sweet Candy’s gon’ b there". Now, this could be a good old-fashioned drugs reference but, given Prince has cleaned up his act, it more likely refers to the presence of saxophonist Candy Dulfer, parping away on the track. Phew, that’s some guest list.

The title track is one of those tributes to "old school joints" that, in order to make the point, just brazenly pastiches James Brown. Being Prince, he chucks in a cheesy electrofunk synth refrain, but the entire track is a groove more than a song. And paying innocuous tribute to the dancefloor greats is more the style of a Madonna or a Kylie. Prince, on the other hand, should be writing another dancefloor great. Particularly when he can draw on the talents of Brown’s legendary saxophonist Maceo Parker, who guests on a couple of tracks.

Such groove-based material, though funky, is less satisfying than the more conventional, contemplative songs. A Million Days is no more original than the title track. Its central lament that "it’s only been an hour since you left me/but it feels like a million days" is a perennial lyrical theme, but it hasn’t lost its potency here. Likewise, Call My Name, in which Prince celebrates a monogamous, marital relationship, punts the age-old poetic notion that love is a catalyst for seeing the world through fresh eyes, yet its leisurely bliss is instantly seductive.

He is stronger on the personal than he is on the political. On Cinnamon Girl - no obvious relation to the Neil Young song apart from the odd burst of burnished bluesy guitar - he turns his attention to race relations post-9/11, while Dear Mr Man tackles a whole bunch of global ills in one lethargic funk track that is too close to Jamiroquai for comfort. Coming from the man who wrote Sign O’ The Times, these socio-political numbers are a disappointment.

Still, Musicology could have been so much messier. As it is, it is probably the first album of the rest of Prince’s musical life.

That's a bit of a stretch, huh?

Yeah....like he needs the money. I think he's set...and it's not like fans weren't buying his previous albums.

Universaluv said:

... to the general indifference of all but a crack team of maniacal Prince enthusiasts with a high tolerance for eccentric guff.

I feel so proud. We sound like the A-Team "crack commandos" ...




PorterUk.

Universaluv said:

Since when was Sheila ever a member of The Revolution????? Idiot CRITICS!!!!!

Universaluv said:

It's waaaaay more Al Green than Barry White. Gimme a break, sounds nothing like Barry White. Second if he thinks that's turgid, then we just live on completely different planets.

Good review actually.... besides the obvious jokes