I’m sure most stopped paying attention to P.M. Dawn with “I’d Die Without You.” I remember singing that song in my college a cappella group, and angry at my friend who arranged it that he was insisting that he’d be singing the lead (but, duh). I still got to sing the lead background though--the oh’s and ah’s--so I was pretty pleased. I’d encourage you to go back to that song though and listen to those lyrics. They are heartbreaking.
I continued to love P.M. Dawn though beyond their hot hits. And this was in despite of their not so thinly veiled Christianity. But, maybe it was because of it, because their love of Christ was so creatively transferred to any romantic object, that you always had this doublethink going on that was intriguing. “I’d Die Without You” and many other songs take on very different meanings when thinking of the “you” as Jesus Christ. Which is cool.
Anyway, Prince Be has died, and it’s another occasion (2016, you have GOT to stop) to reflect on an artist. I’ve assembled below my favorite songs that you may have never heard in chronological order. Take a listen, and join me in thanking Prince Be for giving us some great music.
“In the Presence of Mirrors”
There’s a lot of layers here--the underlying “doo doos” that are such a great hook that mirrors the melody, the faintly whiny during the chorus, the whispering--and they all work, and were a signature of P.M. Dawn songs.
“So On and So On”
I dare you to not bounce when you listen to this song.
“Plastic”
“Now I’m accused of spiking the punch / And I’ll be the scapegoat for faking the funk” This is their response to those who said they weren’t real hip-hop. It’s awesome.
“The Ways of the Wind”
This melody makes me crazy: it’s so wonderfully all over the place.
“Norwegian Wood”
You didn’t know they did a cover of this, did you? It’s perfect.
“More Than Likely”
You didn’t know they did a duet with Boy George, did you? It also is perfect.
“What's the use in clinging / To all the hopes that leave you somewhere next to lies?”
“You Got Me Floatin’”
Remember when there was a tribute album to basically everyone in the 90s? Those were the days. This was off the one to Jimi Hendrix, and it is a JAM.
“Downtown Venus”
This opens their third album, Jesus Wept, and if you had any fears they had lost their funk, they are quickly dissipated. That driving bass and drum mix is just incredible.
“The 9:45 Wake-Up Dream”
Jesus Wept might be my favorite album, and it might be because of this song. This is peak PMD psychedelia. I don’t know what it means, but I don’t care. I get shivers every time the chorus starts.
“Fantasia’s Confidential Ghetto”
What would “1999″ sound as a ballad? Here is your answer. What would it sound like if Talking Heads’ “Once in a Lifetime” was mixed with a Peanuts-like jangly piano? HERE IS YOUR GODDAMNED ANSWER.
“Music for Carnivores”
If Jesus Wept signals joy with the fun funk of “Downtown Venus,” Dearest Christian begins with doubt, sadness, and betrayal in this powerful song. I assume the “you” in this song is Jesus and this song is about his resurrection to a world that hates him: “They don’t feel the way you feel / They don’t know that they hurt you / You’ll forgive them for what they do / You get nothing.”
“Hale-Bopp Regurgitations”
Remember Hale-Bopp? Here, God speaks to us about his regrets and mistakes, with some choice 90s references: “I should remember not to blow up buildings / I should remember what it’s like to be God.”
“Untitled”
The last track off their last album. At over 8 minutes, it’s a statement, for sure. And an investment. It flips between themes and styles, as if he’s trying to find answers to his doubts and fears. Try to stick to the end, if only to hear Prince Be’s son ask if he’s finished with his “la las.”
I don’t really know what to say about my relationship with Prince, or even explain it beyond here was a great voice and musician who didn’t care what people thought, and that’s pretty attractive to a teenager. And perhaps more. It has been a long time since he’d been my touchstone: his recent work didn’t really speak to me.
However, I think it is telling that today’s news instantly brought me back to college, because between junior high and college, he was certainly central to my music tastes and really my life.
While it all started with Purple Rain, as with many others, I think Parade really started my deeper connection with him. Yes, his movies suck, but to discount the soundtracks to those movies is a huge mistake. Parade is likely my favorite album, though the opus of Sign o’ the Times is perhaps more impressive (and that concert film is amazing).
So, for about a decade, he was amazing. Here are the songs that jumped out from that time for me.
(I wish I could embed video and audio, but that was Prince’s way.)
“Raspberry Beret,” Around the World in a Day (1985)
Listen to these lyrics again. So incredibly clever. As someone tweeted today, when you describe someone walking in through the out door, you are saying that she is a boss.
“The Ballad of Dorothy Parker,” “U Got the Look,” “If I Was Your Girlfriend,” “Strange Relationship,” “I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man,” Sign o’ the Times (1987)
OK, maybe it was this album that changed everything for me. “Dorothy Parker” is such a weird, clever song that no one else could have written it. The inclusion of Joni Mitchell just shows the range he had. Who else could have made Sheena Easton sexy? Playing with gender? Welcome to “Girlfriend.” “Place of Your Man” is SUCH a good song. Don’t forget about that song.
“Girls & Boys,” “Mountains,” “Anotherloverholeinyohead,” “Sometimes It Snows in April,” Parade, (1988)
Best line from this album? “She had the cutest ass he’d ever seen / She did too; they were meant to be.” “Mountains” is EPIC. The horns, the chorus harmony, the harmony at the end of the second verse. “Anotherlover” should have been a top 40 single. I probably played this song daily for a year. The second verse is insane. INSANE. The interplay between him and the background singers. UNGH. And then “Sometimes” is just the saddest song ever written.
I saw this in concert. In the round. There was a basketball court and a bed on stage. He drove to the stage in the car he drove in the “Alphabet” video. It was amazing.
“Batdance,” Batman (1989)
I will defend this song until the day I die.
“The Question of U,” “Joy in Repetition,” “Thieves in the Temple,” Graffiti Bridge (1990)
“Question” is Prince at his jammiest best. The last half of the song is basically just instrumental riffing--showing you his awesomeness. “Joy” is perhaps my favorite non-hit song. I taught it. It is a rare song that leaves a listener waiting for a reveal: what does she keep repeating?! “Thieves” is an oft-forgotten hit (it hit #6). So good though.
“Diamonds and Pearls,” “Cream,” “Gett Off,” “Money Don’t Matter 2 Night,” Diamonds and Pearls (1991)
This was my sophomore year soundtrack. I was obsessed. I played “Gett Off” constantly. I had the CD single. “Money” is Prince social commentary at its best.
“Sexy MF,” “7,” Symbol (1992)
I mean, come on. That riff on “Sexy”? Jesus. And the opening to “7″? PREACH
Other songs I love include “Come,” “Papa,” and “Race” from Come and “Dolphin” and “Billy Jack Bitch” from The Gold Experience.
Just looking over this list, and not even getting to the hot hits or Purple Rain, it just lets you know how much we took him for granted as a maverick and as a genius. Just sad, but glad we had him.
At my babysitter's, I would choose the mat closest to the TV, so that I could watch Tattle Tales with Bert Convy while I was supposed to be taking a nap. I was banned from the living room during Wheel of Fortune because I would guess the puzzles too quickly. I got a satellite dish because the local cable company didn't have the Game Show Network.
I love game shows.
So, when I heard that Pyramid, the revamped version of The $25,000 Pyramid, was going to be holding a contestant search in suburban Washington, DC, I immediately knew I would be going. I was good at Pyramid, and would often force my mom and anyone else in a room to play with me when it was on. Most of the time, they would kindly oblige; they know now that their efforts resulted in my taste of success.
When I arrived at the appointed time for the tryout at the Tysons Corner mall in late October 2002, I was ready: loaded with caffeine, smartly dressed, and brimming with excitement, I was sure I would be their ideal candidate. However, when I walked into the former exercise gym, now contestant workout room, my spirits sunk: I had never seen so many white men in their early 30s who could stand to lose a few pounds. Was I this generic? I knew from a failed attempt at being a contestant on Classic Concentration in college that I had to be excited to the point of being excitable, but I didn't have enough time to change my clothes, get on the Atkins diet, or shave my head. Things didn't look good.
However, I sailed through the first cut, missing only a few on the first quiz. The next step was the dreaded mock round. This was where I had to differentiate myself. In front of we survivors stood Pyramid's contestant coordinator: Leslie Aqua Viva Schulman. This was a woman who could live up to that name. Had she been a little more into plastic surgery, she could have been Joan Rivers's sister: no-nonsense, raspy-voiced, and hilarious when she wanted to be, Leslie (or LAVS, as I soon began calling her…behind her back) was my new favorite person, and I wanted to please her. So, paired with a woman who obviously wasn't up to snuff, I began playing the game. Giving clues an ape could understand, I watched as my partner flailed, stammering out incoherent answers to the point that LAVS stopped us and demanded to know if my partner was actually listening: "he's giving you great clues; you just have to listen." My tryout over, I left the mall and turned on my cell phone. They said that if we were to be on the show, they would call us in less than three weeks; I didn't want to take any chances that I would miss the soon-to-be-made call.
Yet Christmas rolled around, and soon I resolved not to think of LAVS anymore: I blamed my partner ("Not black, but…," "Um, Gray?"), my clothes, my paunch for me failing to fulfill my dream of being on a game show. However, I soon learned that dreams should not be abandoned so lightly.
On a typical Tuesday night in January 2003 (in front of the television), the phone rang: Caller ID said California, so I almost didn't pick up. However, on a whim, I picked up to hear a voice I would recognize anywhere: "Greg. Leslie Aqua Viva Shulman from Pyramid. Can you be out here Monday to tape a show?" In my LAVS-induced hysteria, I only half-heard the details—special Philadelphia show…one of only a few contestants from the area…paired with Philadelphia celebrities. It didn't matter. It didn't matter that I had meetings for work. It didn't matter that I had to re-arrange my schedule. It didn't matter that only Philadelphia would see my star turn on Pyramid: I was going to Hollywood!
Actually, I went to Culver City, but the Culver City Radisson was awfully nice. It was from there on the following Monday that a car picked up me and my opponent (a nice woman from York) and drove us to the studios for our taping. We waited nervously at the gate, until one of LAVS's underlings picked us up and took us to the Green Room (the Green Room!). We waited for a few minutes, and then LAVS arrived…and she was not happy. "They didn't show up! They're not showing up! They left a voice mail last night saying they're not showing up! Who are these people?" It seems that our Philadelphia celebrities (who they were supposed to be, I still don't know: Larry Kane? Patti LaBelle? The mind reels…) were not going to be with us, which meant that we were now placed in the general pool of contestants, with no guarantees of being on the show.
After going over the game rules and the legal fine print, we waited in the green room for the final word. LAVS entered and made the big announcement: I would be on the first show to be taped that day! I was so excited and wanted to call all of my family and friends, except that my cell phone had been confiscated earlier in the day to prevent me from cheating. After hair and makeup, I was escorted down to the set, with my opponent Machelle, a native Californian who was a "student"—code for an aspiring actress, of course.
The set was not quite as massive nor impressive as it seems on television, but was still large enough to rile the butterflies in my stomach. Soon, the celebrities joined us on stage: first, two decorators from the show Trading Spaces, Hildi Santo-Tomas and Doug Wilson, and then the host, Donny Osmond. Hildi and Doug were nice and all, but Donny was the true star and didn't disappoint: disarming and charming, Donny wished us both luck, and set us at ease.
Soon, after some minor glitches were taken care of, we started taping. I found myself strangely calm, unfazed by the swirling lights and cheering audience. The first two rounds went by quickly, with us tied at the end of them. Then, I selected a category which hid the "Super Six," meaning that if I got all six clues correctly, I would win a trip to Mexico. Hildi and I breezed through the category, and I knew that I would not leave the studio empty-handed. Machelle flailed on her final category, which meant that I got to go the bonus round.
While they sequestered Hildi for some last-minute tips, LAVS helped me practice in the winners' circle. Donny came by for some reassurance and good luck; I told him that I enjoyed his latest record (OK, that was a lie), and we bonded. Then, Hildi emerged from backstage and we were ready to begin. Continuing our mind meld from the earlier round, we breezed through the first three categories. Then: "Steam pipes…heart chambers…steam pipes…heart chambers." Hildi repeated the clues while I stammered out incorrect answers: "Things that hold liquid, things that pump, things that…" We moved on to the two remaining categories and completed them quickly. Hildi returned to her mantra—"steam pipes…heart chambers"—and I returned to my ineffectual attempts. The clock expired and I turned around to see what escaped me: "Things with valves." Hildi apologized and Donny consoled, while I thought, "that is the hardest category I have ever seen on this show."
Dejectedly, I returned to my seat, this time opposite Doug. The next round proceeded much like the first, with hardly stupendous game-playing, but sufficient enough for me to return to the bonus round. Luckily, I think Machelle was there to just get some screen time; I was fulfilling my destiny, and would not let her deny me.
After another tête-à-tête cram session with LAVS, I welcomed Doug to the hot seat and we started the bonus round. Even more quickly than Hildi, Doug plied me with perfect clues, and we breezed through the first two categories. Then, on the third category, Doug intoned, "Telephone rings…copy machines…fax machine sounds." At that last word, the ominous yet innocuous sound effect rung out through the studio which indicated that Doug had said a word that was in the category title: "Office Sounds." I could not win that category; I could not win the $10,000. Being the trouper that I am, I managed to hold myself together and get through the remaining categories. At the end of the bonus round, everyone joined Doug and I in the winners' circle as we waved goodbye under the credits. Doug apologized, but not nearly enough, and Hildi gave me a little hug. Once the director yelled "Cut!", Machelle and I were whisked offstage; I barely saw LAVS as she gave me a shoulder shrug, and mouthed "Too bad." As I signed the documents detailing how I would receive $2900 and my trip to Mexico once the show aired, I rued Doug and my inability to tap into Hildi's thought process. I walked out the door, into the waiting car, and was taken back to the Radisson. I went up to my room, took a deep breath, and prepared to call my friends and family to tell them the results. It was certainly not what I had hoped for, but it was also an amazing experience. I met Donny Osmond, I got on TV, and, most importantly, I had been on a game show. My life was complete.
Postscript
The show aired four months later to much fanfare at my house. I got calls from across the country, from friends asking why I pumped my fists so much and from family thanking me for not embarrassing them. A few weeks later, my check arrived along with instructions for booking my Mexican vacation. In January, I finally took the vacation to Los Cabos. At the resort, a worker asked me why I had chosen the resort, and I responded that I really didn't have a choice and explained how I came to be there. She responded, "Oh, you finally came! We've been waiting ever since we saw the show!" I was a star. Or, at least, someone who a few people remembered seeing and maybe having sympathy for: the guy who didn't know what things had valves.
George Michael’s Listen Without Prejudice, Vol. 1 was released 25 years ago this past week. I have very fond memories of this album, what with it coinciding with the very beginning of my college life. George and I were beginning new stages in our life: he was sloughing off the expectations of those around him and trying new things, as was I.
25 years later, I have thoughts. I’m writing these responses during the time of the song with no editing. We’ll see how that goes.
(To listen along, why not open it up on Spotify or Apple Music?)
“Praying for Time”
OK, we’re not starting off with a poppy acoustic guitar riff, are we?
There was a lot of social justice posturing here (”the rich declare themselves poor”; “charity is a coat you wear twice a year”), but also a lot of personal soul-searching. “Maybe we should all be praying for time”--which serves basically as the chorus--is obviously a call to have more time to fix the world’s problems, but also a call from George to his audience to give him some time to figure out who he is as an artist.
The line also matches very well with the music: you can feel the tempo sort of hanging back, as if it wants to rush forward, but it remains resolutely slow, even as the guitar strums inside of it.
“Freedom 90″
Let’s deal with the music first: the jangling keyboards and “Funky Drummer”-esque beat just make you want to groove. And the gospel chorus of Georges (Sam Smith, have you shouted out your daddy George yet?)? Chills.
This has to be one of the stranger pop hits, content-wise though, right? A biographical sketch of an artist rebuffing the audience that made him a star? Really?
There are lines here that I continue to love:
All we have to do now
Is to take these lies and make them true (somehow)
That “somehow” is what really does it for me; he drops low and quiet, as if admitting that, for all of his bluster, he can’t do this.
And, is there a song that had a better video so perfectly matched to its confusing message? For some reason I was obsessed with the part where Linda Evangelista pulls the sweater over her head and sings along. I thought that was so cool. David Fincher at his finest.
Also the harmony during the last bridge makes me so happy.
“They Won’t Go When I Go”
So, let me first admit that I had no idea that this was a cover of a Stevie Wonder song for years after first hearing it.
That being said, I remember almost instantly falling in love with this song. The backing vocals are so wonderful: they are desperate, impassioned, defeated.
The lead vocal when it comes to the bridge is a revelation: it hits his voice right in his sweet spot and comes almost literally out of the darkness.
It is one of my lifelong dreams to be able to sing this with a chorus. I think it’s just such a powerful song. I get chills every time I hear it.
Then there’s the last verse with the subtle strings backing the chorus getting increasingly louder.
And then the lead ends with something like a trumpet with “my destiny”.
And then the song ends quietly, reflectively, patiently.
Beautiful.
“Something to Save”
First, this is the time during the album when I realize how treble-heavy this album is. I seriously need to change my equalizer. Dogs are going crazy.
I remember absolutely loving the line,
Don’t tell me how a man should be:
Some would say, if you knew,
You wouldn’t be here with me.
And then the second chorus’s harmony: I always chime in with that, because it’s so great.
I mean, it’s not a great song, by any means, but I think it’s perfectly serviceable, and something of nice palate cleanser after the weight of its predecessor. It’s upbeat musically, even though it remains dark.
“Cowboys and Angels”
I remember putting this song on many a mixtape for friends. It sneaks up on you with the opening seemingly presaging a ballad....
But then this jazz groove begins, and you just settle in, and I can’t help but moving a little bit. And that bassline.
I think the first chorus might be the one that I like the most:
I know you think that you’re safe, mister:
Harmless deception that keeps love at bay.
It’s the ones who resist, that we most want to kiss,
Wouldn’t you say?
Cowboys and angels, they all have the time for you.
Why should I imagine I’d be a find for you?
Why should I imagine that I’d have something to say?
I think what I especially like about this song is how the lyrics change from verse and chorus to verse and chorus while retaining the internal rhyme scheme. It’s really quite clever.
And that groove just continues...it’s so sensual and detached in some ways. I can see him in some club singing right at individuals.
Take this man to your bed,
Maybe his hands will help you forget.
Please be stronger than your past:
The future may still give you a chance.
This is such a strange bridge that leads into the sax solo that actually ends the song. I always think that there will be more singing after the sax solo, but there isn’t: it ends on this trail of notes, until it finally resolves.
Again, the darkness of this album remains in this strange, slightly upbeat song.
“Waiting for That Day”
I mentioned Funky Drummer before, and here it is explicitly. Again, the upbeat funk of the drums belie the sweet sadness of this song.
The repeated refrain of “My memory serves me (far too) well” is great--taking us back to “Freedom 90″ a bit as well as the other songs talking about the past and the future--and mistakes made.
This song is really basic in many ways without his voice: it’s really a showcase for it, and I think he carries it off. I also like that the title of the song doesn’t really appear until the end, like we were waiting for the line, just like he’s waiting for that day when he can get his lover back--while knowing that he probably will not be able to.
I’m torn on the ending with “You can’t always get what you want”: it’s a bit too on the nose and unnecessary.
“Mothers Pride”
First, I need an apostrophe.
Second, my 18-year-old self loved the earnestness of this song. I did protest the first Iraq war after all. I even displayed the Iraqi flag on my car (long story; there was a point).
Third, this is the first song where the echo on this album gets out of control (or whatever it is that makes his S’s get out of hand; I’m not a sound engineer).
Honestly, I really want to forward through this song, but I’ll bear it.
The acoustic guitar and the pipes of peace or whatever they are are strongly Sting-esque.
I will say that he gives it his all here on the vocals. I just can’t though.
“Heal the Pain”
So, some more jangly, treble-heavy acoustic guitar. I’m not saying I don’t like it; I’m just observing.
The song starts off with several lines about him sharing a secret...and then he doesn’t share it, I don’t think. Instead, he turns the tables and spends the chorus saying how he can help the addressee. It’s a bit confusing. Oh, and I wonder what that secret is. Well?
I actually like the chorus a fair amount, especially as the song progresses and there’s some good backing vocals.
I’d say that this song is my second least favorite song on the album, with the least favorite being...
“Soul Free”
The falsetto “When you touch me Baby”’s drive me nuts. Also, the flute. It also has a vaguely reggae vibe, and anything in that neighborhood bugs.
The less I say, the better
“Waiting (Reprise)”
This seems a bit superfluous, but it is a bit powerful really. Emotional at least.
So, there you go. I still like this album, even though I know remember how much it tails off. Also, I’m old.
Has the world ever needed Shirley Manson as badly as it does now? If only so she and Justin Bieber could encounter one another at an awards show or radio festival and she could reduce him to gravel with a single arched eyebrow?
Sia on today's Ellen. I mean, I just can't. There is so much going on here for an afternoon talk show. The song itself is about female desperation. The singer expresses her own exasperation with fame by refusing to show her face, something that the host of said talk show knows something about. The dancer expresses both innocence and that same desperation and exasperation. And the audience gives a standing ovation. I can't.
Yesterday on CBS This Morning, they interviewed Eddie Izzard. It was a good interview overall, but what was amazing about it was what was unsaid: that this straight man was obviously wearing more make-up than normal, was wearing nail polish, has a history of dressing in women's clothes. Kudos for the producers and hosts for not dwelling on or even mentioning what is "sensational" about Izzard, but about his talents and work.
I have a love-annoyed by relationship with Tune-Yards, but I'm also intrigued because there are things I've never heard before, including the lead singer who has one of the most gender-bending voices I've ever heard.
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