Prince preaches to the spirit

MARTY HUGHLEY

For someone with a rationalist view of the world, meeting Prince can be an unsettling experience.

Actually, at the time I had my ultra-brief and perfunctory conversation with him, he was the Once and Future Prince, still acting as though his given name was an insult and insisting on being identified by an unutterable glyph. It was September 1997 and the pop superstar finally had made his first Portland appearance at the Rose Garden. At a public after-show party held at a dance club in the eastside industrial district, a publicist brought me into the band's upstairs inner sanctum for a quick introduction to the man himself.

I'm no believer in auras or any kind of pseudo-mystical woo-woo, but this was like nothing else I've experienced. Slight, delicately featured and soft-spoken, he nonetheless had a palpable presence that went beyond charisma to something that felt like a force field. And I'm convinced that it wasn't just the power of celebrity, either -- that he could walk into a cave in Afghanistan, a bar in Borneo, wherever, and you wouldn't have to know who he is, wouldn't even have to see him, to take notice of him.

But then, those who've followed Prince's career or seen him perform know that the guy is special -- prodigiously talented, artistically ambitious, colorfully eccentric and R1 effortlessly, marvelously funky. Which is why it seems reasonable to hold him to a high standard. And as wonderful as he's been every time I've seen him perform (four or five times now, since his breakthrough Purple Rain Tour), I've tended to complain through the glory, wishing he'd really present himself as the Artist, rather than as the Showman.

But, as he once put it so succinctly, "Shut up, already!"

{{{His performances last Tuesday night -- both in an exhilarating, nearly three-hour show at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall and a raucous "after party" at the Roseland that went on until quarter to three -- left little room for coulda/shoulda quibbling. His Royal Badness was too busy throwing down funky decrees. }}}

"If you can describe it, it ain't funky," he asserted at the Schnitz, as he called on the very model of saxophone indescribability, James Brown/Parliament alumnus Maceo Parker, to solo.

Allow me a little dancing about architecture nonetheless, just to run down the highlights: There was the driving groove of the new "1+1+1 Is 3," sparked by a Parker solo full of melodic fragments that arced and darted unpredictably; "Strange Relationship," marching and rolling atop Rhonda Smith's muscular bass; a spirited cover of Sly Stone's "Sing a Simple Song" and a version of the Philly-soul classic "La La Means I Love You" that showed Prince's pliant, pleading falsetto; a sly quote from "Rockin' Robin" in the guitar solo to the surf-pop gem "When You Were Mine"; solos by Prince, Parker, saxophonist Candy Dulfer and others lifting "The Everlasting Now" to ecstatic heights; and the star's solo piano-and-voice medley encore that included his early hit "I Wanna Be Your Lover," "Diamonds and Pearls" and the quiet first half of his exquisite lovelorn ballad "The Beautiful Ones."

A sexy, slow burn Oh, and add to the list most of what went on at the Roseland -- such as the crowd chanting "It ain't over! It ain't over!" (as instructed) while the band jammed ferociously on the sharp rhythmic angles of James Brown's kinetic "Talkin' Loud & Sayin' Nothing," Prince adding some grit to the guitar chords of the sweetly psychedelic nugget "Paisley Park," laying the sexy, slow burn on the dreamlike "Joy in Repetition," and winding up the long night with Santana's "Soul Sacrifice," featuring a flawless replication of that guitar star's searing tone, plus a thunderous solo from drummer John Blackwell, who is aptly nicknamed "The Magnificent."

You wouldn't classify all this as cheap thrills. Schnitz tickets were $50 to $125, and Penny Lane, the real-life inspiration for the character in the rock movie "Almost Famous," said she learned of a ticket broker auctioning a seat for $600. (She missed the main show but took in the Roseland sets as a $30 bargain.) But I'd be surprised if anyone griped about not getting his money's worth.

Minus the pelvic thrusts Granted, there was less of some of what made him famous. Though he can be an astonishing dancer, he didn't do much more Tuesday than a brief, comic impersonation of a proverbial drunk uncle dancing at a barbecue. Lust remains a lyrical touchstone, ("Where u wanna eat 2nite, baby? I know this dope spot called one another" he crooned in "Mellow," a slinky new ballad). but sexual grandstanding was absent from the stage business. No leopard-print bikini briefs, no bed rising through the stage, no vamping female eye candy, not even a few standard-issue pelvic thrusts.

He laid out his new approach in the second song of the night, "Muse 2 the Pharaoh": "Take a load off, sweetie darling/Let me run agenda thru ur hair."

And his main agenda item, he would insist, was spiritual. In the opening song "Rainbow Children," he sang of "the covenant" and "flying upon the wings of the New Translation." In "1+1+1 Is 3" he seals a seduction by announcing, "There's a theocratic order, this is how it's gonna b."

Granted, he did attend to business about business -- whipping the crowd into a lather about radio stations no longer playing "real music" (such as his, perhaps?), and making an obtrusive pitch for his $100 fan club.

Yet you could also say that's about making sure he can get his larger message across despite his refusal to adapt to an inflexible entertainment industry. And he closed things at the Schnitz with "Anna Stesia," exhorting the crowd join in on its refrain, which he said was what the whole show had been about: "Love is God, God is Love, girls and boys love God above."

For someone with a rationalist view of the world, that's an unsettling sing-along to take part in. But the power of the presence of Prince made it seem all right.

You can reach Marty Hughley 503-221-8383 or by e-mail at martyhughley@news.oregonian.com.

I heard about this "aura" thing a couple of times. And I'm sure I would certainly feel it!

I HAVE !!!

"All right" is so right....did it have 2 end~ Fantastic night of "real music" Pop world taking notes....

I've felt that too, didn't know anyone else could. He walks in a room-like out at Paisley-and you can't help but look over.
I'm one to really try to give performers/celebrities/athletes their space and just go about what i'm doing, etc- as i've waited tables on quite a few in downtown Mpls, but P has his own glow of sorts. I've seen him out at PP many times, and he always seems to shine.
(...I waited on P's brother one time...i think his name is Duane, right?--he has the same great smile as Prince and i told him that's how i knew who he was. Talked to him for just a couple of minutes, seemed very nice)

I like this quotem, "For someone with a rationalist view of the world, that's an unsettling sing-along to take part in. But the power of the presence of Prince made it seem all right."

Man, I think he could make an atheist feel a higher sense of being during one of those songs (Anna steisa). You may not believe, but it feels good to be a part of that energy.

This tour has had the most positive reviews I have ever seen from the press.

It's a real winner.