Here's an interseting story about Sheila E. dated last Thursday. It mentions her romance with Prince and puts the lesbian rumors to rest. And for those of you that wondered about their falling out, read on.

http://www.ohio.com/bj/enjoy/

Published Thursday, November 8, 2001, in the Akron Beacon Journal.

Sheila E. can't escape '80s nostalgia
Fans inevitably associate musician's 25-year career with Prince and 1984 single `The Glamorous Life'
All this week, VH1 has been airing a special titled VH1 Presents the '80s. This sort of programming has become what VH1 does best: It's the History Channel for those who feel nostalgic about the recent past.

Still, it's interesting -- and sort of predictable -- to see how people have come to view the music of the 1980s. The '80s renaissance has happened exactly like the '70's renaissance that occurred 10 years ago, which probably indicates that all audiences are ultimately the same.

This is how the process works: Something is very popular in its present tense (easy example: disco in 1977). About five years after it peaks, that certain something becomes despised by the mass culture (case in point: The first thing I ever learned about disco was that it sucked . . . and that information was delivered by a Weekly Reader!

Five years after something is deemed terrible, hipsters start rediscovering the same music they once hated, but only in its purest form (the first disco band to emerge as relevant in the '90s was ABBA, partially because of the success of Ace of Base). And then five years after that initial rediscovery -- and 20 years after the original artifact -- everyone suddenly decides they love the worst music that came out of a genre (The Village People, KC & the Sunshine Band, etc.), because now it's ``funny.''

The '80s are rapidly moving into that final phase of its re-invention, which creates a weird experience for all the '80s artists who have felt themselves go from cool to uncool to interesting to kitschy. Take Sheila E., for example. Sheila's had a 25-year career and might be the greatest female drummer of all time, but she's inevitably associated with the middle 1980s -- particularly for her work with Prince and her 1984 single The Glamorous Life. The value of her music is completely dictated by how people perceive the time it was made.

I recently spoke to Sheila (who's now 44) about this evolution, and we got into a conversation about Michael Jackson's new album Invincible. On the whole, reviews of Invincible have been mediocre; most writers argue that it's not innovative and sounds exactly like his work from the past. The irony is that -- if Jackson had pursued a totally new direction -- those same critics would have likely bemoaned how they missed the magic of Thriller.

``I have that new Michael Jackson record, and it does sound like Michael from back in the day,'' E. says. ``And there are always some people who want to hear a little of that old stuff. To this day, I play The Glamorous Life in every show I do. But there's also a certain kind of person who demands that you always do something new. Personally, I really like the new Michael Jackson album, but there's no way he can please both kinds of people.''

The paradox between innovation and nostalgia is especially difficult for E. and other performers. If somebody goes to see Rick Springfield at Tangier, they want to hear him sing Jessie's Girl; if someone wants to see Vixen at the state fair, they want to hear Edge of a Broken Heart. Nobody buying tickets for those artist wants to hear new material. But once an artist decides to give up on writing anything new and gives people all the old stuff they want, it's over. They become a loud lounge act. They become a joke. They become Grand Funk Railroad.

Sheila E. has generally avoided this problem by pursuing different avenues in the industry; she became a producer while returning to her role as a sidewoman for other acts (she's recently toured with both Ringo Starr and J-Lo). But E. is still proud of the music she made 15 years ago, even if the decade itself will always be culturally ghettoized.

``There were a lot of great musicians who came out in the 1980s. It was sort of the last era where most of the bands weren't created by record labels,'' Sheila says. ``All these boy band and girl bands are fine, but they're just somebody's idea. Their heart isn't it.''


Prurient gossip
The following information has very little to do with music and is completely shallow, yet I find it absolutely fascinating: It's about Shelia E.'s sex life.
There were always two rumors about Sheila E. in the 1980s: The first was that she was sleeping with Prince, and the second was that she was a lesbian.

Only one of them was true.

Sheila was romantically involved with Prince for several years (starting on the Purple Rain tour), and their relationship illustrates why Prince is a jerk. Their romance was supposed to be a secret -- Prince doesn't like people knowing about his personal life -- but the diminutive pop genius always implied something was going on between he and E., just to keep the public intrigued.

Meanwhile, Prince always suggested he was having sex with lots of other women, which he told Sheila was ``just part of his image.'' He told Sheila this was simply part of his rock star act.

Well, it turns out that Prince actually was having sex with all these other women, which is why they broke up in 1989.

Meanwhile, all those lesbian rumors were completely false. And the reason why these stories existed is totally bizarre: Shelia is convinced it's because she played the drums.

``Those rumors actually came from male musicians, and especially from male drummers,'' she said. ``They would hit on me constantly, and -- if I turned them down -- they would tell people I must be a lesbian. And since the drums are such a physically demanding instrument, it was assumed I must be more of a boy than a girl. People will believe what they want to believe.''