Ironically, the one vocal ballad, “Empty Room,” is the most Purple Rain-esque number Prince has done in years—beginning where, say, “The Beautiful Ones” leaves off and rolling with the same stately melancholy—though I’ve yet to read a line about it in any of the “comeback” articles devoted to Musicology.

So CNote is kinda like NEWS?

andyman91 said:

hmmm, yes and no. it's mostly instrumental stuff (with the exception of empty room), but it was all performed live at soundchecks during the ONA tour. it's good stuff.

Is Anxiety a pill popper. lol

I don't see why he(?) reviews C-NOTE as a new album and not the Chocolate Invasion and Slaughterhouse.

It's hard to see C-NOTE as a proper album - after all, it is 4 jazz-fusion live instrumental jams and a completely different in style rock ballad, not cohesive at all. It was originally just a throwaway sporadic club only release as a dig at fans complaining about not getting value for money out of $100 for that year's club membership, and you need to know that, the context in which it was recorded and released, to understand it. I think, reviewing it purely as a proper album you'd probably just think, what on earth is this? Or more specifically, why put Empty Room on there? Answer: he needed an E.

I don't see why he(?) reviews C-NOTE as a new album and not the Chocolate Invasion and Slaughterhouse.

It's hard to see C-NOTE as a proper album - after all, it is 4 jazz-fusion live instrumental jams and a completely different in style rock ballad, not cohesive at all. It was originally just a throwaway sporadic club only release as a dig at fans complaining about not getting value for money out of $100 for that year's club membership, and you need to know that, the context in which it was recorded and released, to understand it. I think, reviewing it purely as a proper album you'd probably just think, what on earth is this? Or more specifically, why put Empty Room on there? Answer: he needed an E.

my avatar is a token of solidarity for courtney love.

THE PHILISTINE’S GUIDE TO HIP HOP AND R&B
Prince? Again? C-Note for Details.
by the Philistine
NineVolt Magazine
Exclusively for the Org, The Philistine sends this sneak preview of the June 22 issue

[snip --Matt]

(Changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol had already made him the object of much derision, but few understood its tactical significance. Warners had a 3 year option on his name if he didn’t re-sign, an obvious bit of contractual gangsterism he neutralized while still on company time, and in such a way that everyone was grateful when they could finally call him “Prince” again.)

metalorange said:

Nice theory, but C-NOTE is a fan-created acronym that the club adopted. If it were only meant to appease the members then you'd think its original release wouldn't have been so limited.

okay I'm not a member of the NPG music club, so can somebody tell me what Chocolate Invasion and Slaughterhouse are: when were they released and what's on them. Also any information on an album called High (year of relaese, song titles etc)? - cheers

Universaluv said:

Or maybe it was C-NOTE all along and the fans managed to guess right. After all, even I could get the crossword puzzle "Anagram of ECTNO, pertaining to a fan-club with a $100 membership"!

It was both a dig at complaining fans AND an appeasement, which might explain the limited release.

jiazhou said:

A three-year option on his name? That's news to me. Just curious... do you have a source for this?

THE PHILISTINE’S GUIDE TO HIP HOP AND R&B
Prince? Again? C-Note for Details.
by the Philistine
NineVolt Magazine
Exclusively for the Org, The Philistine sends this sneak preview of the June 22 issue


Oakland LOVES Prince


I know I just did Prince a couple of Philistines ago, but I find myself unable to resist revisiting him here for several reasons: A) when I wrote about the Musicology album & tour, it was unclear whether he’d achieve what was clearly his goal, namely a mainstream success of the kind that’s eluded him since, say “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World” (1994); B) many of the things now being written about him are about as credible as a denial issued by the Vice-President; and C) Note, or rather C-Note, a brand-new album he’s dropped on the QT, via his NPGMusicClub.com. I think you’ll agree these are compelling points for discussion, so if you’ll bear with me, I’ll dispose of all three quickly, sequentially, and in the most agreeable manner possible.
A.
In our last episode, I said it “remains to be seen” whether Musicology’s attempt at mass appeal would translate into “chart action,” so picture my mortification when, by the time the paper hit the streets, the album was already on its 3rd week at #3. Having written one of the perhaps four American reviews of Prince’s previous release—the nonetheless Grammy-nominated, all-instrumental N.E.W.S. (2003)—I hadn’t dared dream his audacious bid would succeed. O me of little faith! A few naysayers have cried foul upon learning the copies of Musicology given to each concert-goer count towards his soundscan numbers; Prince, they feel, is tricking us into buying his new record. But this hardly seems fair, for as any of the million or so audience members on this tour will attest, he is unquestionably the hardest working man in showbiz. He’s even got Maceo in his band to prove it. Prince is one of those performers who, where others coast, self-imposes a dozen extra hurdles just to keep himself in fighting trim; even in moments of deepest obscurity, his live act has been virtually without peer in contemporary pop since Purple Rain (1984) allowed him to entertain on the grand scale. Why not show him a little Billboard love for all he’s done and all he continues to do? In any case, according to our friends at Prince.org—the definitive “non-official” resource on the lives and works of His Royal Badness—he’s already sold 500,000 non-concert copies, which last time I checked was a gold record and a lot of people.
The short answer of course is, only the most heartless corporate shill could complain about someone handing out cds.
B.
Almost overnight, the mainstream press switched from dismissing Prince as a has-been to seizing on him as a vehicle of nostalgia for an era whose passing received its definitive symbol in the recent death of Reagan. For Americans, the ’80s were the time of a cleaner, colder warfare, in which combat was an abstract proposition of total annihilation, lasting a few seconds at most. Perhaps only the all-or-nothing tension of détente could engender that unique cultural phenomenon, the ’80s pop megastar. Most sociologists agree, in the final analysis, there are only 4 unambiguous specimens: Bruce, Madonna, Michael, and Prince. They were the pop giants in the dead center of the Reagan years, and like some super infield they covered all the bases of popular taste; most people of a certain age would cop to liking at least one. (Megastardom wasn’t the same in the ’90s; if you were white like Kurt Cobain, you killed yourself, or if you were black like 2pac, someone else did.) The potent combination of Prince’s induction into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, his headline-grabbing performance with Beyoncé at the Grammys, and the 20th Anniversary of Purple Rain has inspired a collective weltschmerz among feature writers who—in the wake of Michael’s legal woes, and a few too many snoozers from the Boss and the Material Girl—are only too ready to turn their attention to Prince.
Nonetheless, the story these writers repeat, with subtle variations, from article to article, sounds as if it were derived solely from publicity sheets as opposed to experience or even the most painless record-store browsing. Having abandoned his deliberately obscurantist pursuits of the ’90s, the story goes, Prince has returned to being the Prince we knew and loved, for which we’ve awarded him a much-needed comeback. The implication of course is that if the press had stopped paying attention, it was all his own fault for becoming so personally and artistically difficult. That such an assessment is at once ungenerous, obtuse, and untrue may be judged from the absurd lengths to which its authors have gone in order to make it stick. Jet, for example, declared Prince’s contract with Sony/Columbia his first big label deal in 10 years, which is a lie by half (Arista brought out Rave Un2 the Joy Fantastic in 1999). Musicology has been touted as his first arena tour in 6, yet I’ve seen more than one such show in the past 4. But more egregious than mere factual error is the idea that the impeccably-tailored educator of Musicology is self-evidently continuous with the lacey exhibitionist of Purple Rain, for his aesthetic has undergone more or less constant revolution since he followed up Purple Rain with the psychedelic Around the World in a Day (1985). To disavow this aspect of Prince—and its defining influence on the awesome body of work between Purple Rain and Musicology—is to reject his art outright.
C-Note
Prince’s battle with Warner Bros initially began over artistic freedom. In 1994, he had 3 amazing records in the can—Come, The Undertaker, and The Gold Experience—and Warners refused to release more than one album a year. This was soon overshadowed by the revelation that he didn’t own his masters, to which he responded (quite reasonably, I think) by making all subsequent public appearances with the word slave written on his face, until the fulfillment of his contract in ’96. (Changing his name to an unpronounceable symbol had already made him the object of much derision, but few understood its tactical significance. Warners had a 3 year option on his name if he didn’t re-sign, an obvious bit of contractual gangsterism he neutralized while still on company time, and in such a way that everyone was grateful when they could finally call him “Prince” again.) Signing to Columbia after 5 years as an independent could be construed as a regression, but really it’s the realization of what he was seeking 10 years ago, for he retains ownership of his masters and is still free to release whatever he wants through NPGMusicClub.com. Which brings me to C-Note, his latest album-length release which you can score there for a mere 10th of its titular value. It’s the 3rd (mostly) instrumental album Prince has released with his current band—the previously fan-club-only Xpectation (2003) can also be purchased for $10—and while I dig Musicology, C-Note is a much better indication of what the group is capable of, a furious fusion of jazz & funk & whatever else they can get their hands on. Guitar aficionados should appreciate the ample opportunity Prince has to stretch out. Ironically, the one vocal ballad, “Empty Room,” is the most Purple Rain-esque number Prince has done in years—beginning where, say, “The Beautiful Ones” leaves off and rolling with the same stately melancholy—though I’ve yet to read a line about it in any of the “comeback” articles devoted to Musicology. Such inattention sadly suggests that, unless a corporate machine like Sony is cracking the whip, the press still isn’t really listening.
###



Watch for the new book “The Philistine’s Guide: A Year in the Life of Hip Hop” coming in 2004 from NineVolt Magazine. The Philistine is based in Oakland, CA.

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matt said:

He laid it out in a press conference on May 16, 2000:

"On Dec. 31, 1999, my publishing contract with Warner-Chappell expired, thus emancipating the name I was given before birth--Prince--from all long-term restrictive documents," the 41-year-old R&B star said. "I will now go back to using my name instead of the symbol I adopted to free myself from all undesirable relationships."

http://www.livedaily.com/news/1190.html was one of the stories covering it.