Change My Mind: Prince
Today’s Take: Prince’s music is massively over-rated…and by “over-rated,” I mean “sucks infected monkey dick.”
The Argument: Oh my God…where do I start with how much I fucking hate Prince? The best place is with what prompted this rant. It seems CBS will be airing a Prince tribute concert Tuesday night. I know…the fucking guy was wildly popular; that’s why these “Change My Mind” pieces are usually unpopular. To me, Prince took everything which was wrong with the 1980s and concentrated it into one musical suppository made of red-hot razor wire. That’s the level of pain I feel every time I have to hear that sonic shit-pile “When Doves Cry.” Usually, one needs a “dollar-store” imitation Hallmark card to get that level of poetic drivel.
While every decade in my life has had it’s up and downs, Prince dialed right into the “downs” of the 80s. Pointless androgyny? Check. Over-produced, over-blown “synth” noise? Check. Sexual obsession at the height of the AIDS epidemic? Check.
At least the one good thing you can say about “When Doves Cry” is it’s the only Prince song which isn’t about his obsession with pussy. If you think “Little Red Corvette” was about a car, you simply weren’t paying attention. Seriously, the guy was so obsessed he found like 900 different analogies for vaginas. That’s not creative…that’s borderline “skeevy perv.” He’s so obsessed that you just know he was the short kid in high school who couldn’t get any, so he spent the rest of his like (when he wasn’t fucked up on something) making up for lost time.
If that weren’t bad enough, Prince also wrote terrible songs for other hacks to record. Every time I hear “Manic Monday” by the multi-talentless Bangles, or worse yet “Nothing Compares 2 U” by that squealing Irish cue-ball (name deliberately forgotten), I hope there’s an extra-hot section of hell for people who create torturous shit like that. Forget waterboarding, put those songs on a loop, and after about the third turn, I’d be confessing to the Lindbergh kidnapping, being the second shooter on the grassy knoll, and being the guy who green-lit the all-female remake of “Ghostbusters.”
The final nails in the coffin are in who are in that tribute concert. I have no issues with the Foo Fighters, but this is definitely a case of “one of these things is not like the other;” because they don’t suck. You would expect musical remoras like Morris Day and the Time, The Revolution, and Sheila E. to be there; even in death, Prince is still punching meal tickets for these slobs. With all of those people at this show Tuesday night, Wednesday morning will see supermarket shelves across the Twin Cities going unstocked.
Remember Beck? He’ll be there, and he’s got a time machine set for 1996 when anybody gave a shit who he was. That was when he released a song imploring us to kill him because he was a loser, and yet nobody has. But after you’ve girded your loins for that aural assault, brace yourself for what’s next…
“Saturday Night Live” alum and devoted Prince fan Maya Rudolph hosts and also performs with her Prince cover band Princess.
In other words, Tuesday night will just be one last musical suppository made of red-hot razor wire. That’s the downside of having that extra-hot section of hell.
Change my mind.
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Don´t forget about Vanity (another Prince spinoff) who wore stockings on their music videos. I mean, the guy wanted the group to be called Vagina.
I give him credit for Purple Rain, and his rendition in the Super Bowl the Colts won in the raib. (Damn! Now I have the image of that dick shaped guitar)
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You’re just upset Michael Bolton didn’t get a tribute first.
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I’m actually upset Michael Bolton is still alive.
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Look, I’m not here to convince you to like the guy. You obviously don’t.
But to negate his impact or his discography is just plain silly and very Dubsy of you just for the sake of being Dubsish.
Sure, he came up with a lot of different names for the vagina (Alotta Fagina?)… but it’s rock and roll. Every damn Van Halen song ever released was about pussy and I don’t hear you complaining about their allusions to the female reproductive organs.
(That IS where babies come from, right?)
Prince wasn’t the first androgynous, questionably heterosexual or overtly sexual rock and roll star (Bowie, Elvis, Mozart)… but he sure as heckfire took the baton and ran with it. He wasn’t the first musician to write pop songs that others would make famous (Carole King, Gamble & Huff). He wasn’t the first to intentionally misspell song titles nor have a multi-racial, multi-gendered band (Sly).
But he did tell the record companies to back the fuck off by changing his name to something we can’t find on our keyboard (Point… Prince!)
Kiss, Sexy M.F., and Erotic City are all bad ass fucking songs in which Prince carried on the funk when no other pop artist was doing so.
Whether you like him or not and however low you personally rank him in rock history, his impact on a broad listening audience, some of whom actually have a taste in music, cannot be denied.
Oh yeah, he was pretty damn good on that guitar too.
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So…looks like I hit a nerve…
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