In the late 80’s, during a brief window
in the reign of the artist formerly
known as Prince, later formerly known
as the artist formerly known as Prince,
I became somewhat
obsessed with the guy’s music, in
particular with the stuff he was putting
out then, decidedly psychedelic,
unabashedly provocative, musically
innovative. This, Sign of the Times,
my favorite Prince album, is the
only record of his I have on vinyl,
but oh, what a treasure. In my humble
opinion, one of the greatest albums
of the decade. There’s so much going
on in this music and it is really,
insanely weird, and that’s what I loved
about it. And there’s such a wide
range here, thematically, between the
bleak lyric of the opening track, to
the party atmosphere of the second,
replete with Zappa-esque orchestral
breakdown, and then, the “shut up, already,
damn!” of “Housequake.” “We gotta rock
this mother.” Yes, we do. Every lyric
in this tune is inescapable ear candy.
“Everybody shut up, listen to the band.”
Spinning now on this Friday morning,
sufficiently caffeinated, listening to
side one of Sign of the Times is an
ecstatic, joyful experience. And
this moment when Dorothy Parker
asks Prince if he’d like to take
a bath with her: “Cool,” he says,
“but I’m leaving my pants on, ’cause
I’m kinda going with someone.”
I don’t know why I love that so much,
but I do. It’s ridiculous and
funny, uncharacteristically prudish,
and delivered in such a perfectly
stylized Prince fashion. It’s just
delicious. This whole album is
fantastic, but nothing compares
to that first side. I could listen
to side one only on repeat over and
over again forever and could die
a happy camper.
Notes on the vinyl edition: Sign of the Times, Paisley Park/Warner Brothers Records, 1987 (my edition: NPG Records, 2020 remaster), opaque peach double 180 gram vinyl.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
