I never wanted to have to pay for Tidal.
I never wanted to have to pay for shipping.
I only one time wanted to walk into my record store…
I only wanted to own a Prince album again…
…and now I do.
and I haven’t played it.
I’ve unwrapped it. I have flipped through the CD booklet and wondered at the odd layout of lyrics and the absence of lyrics for the last three songs. I’ve gone through the songs on there I’ve heard or already paid for through the 3rdEyeGirl wedsite, etc… but I haven’t put the CD in a player and pressed play.
“Don’t you want to put your new CD on?”
Because then it’s over. After I’ve pressed play on this CD that’s it. Everything else that’s new will be old. There will never be a new release by Prince…and that’s not something I’m entirely coping with…not entirely at ease with…not entirely satisfied with, and I use the word satisfied purposefully.
On the day of Prince’s death, a mate of mine text me at a loss that he had died so young and so unexpectedly. I had not worried about not going to the Auckland concerts because there was going to be plenty of time for me to catch up with Prince again, at other times in other places. Not so. And it’s a fuck of time trying to come to terms with this. Joy has gone.
Joy in Repetition – certainly there was…what was the new album going to be like? What was the new band going to be like? What was the new direction going to be like? Joy in Repetition. Now the cycle of repetition has gone. All we have left is old new music. It’s over.
It’s helpful/not helpful to see the explosion of tributes – Always Purple Rain or Nothing Compares 2 U … makes you laugh – to see the sudden flood of bootlegs and youtube videos. The life-full life he led…man alive…and, in many ways this is so tremendously sad, the humour, the vivacity, the spontaneity (rehearsed or not), the talent – fuck me, the talent…a mate of mine berated 90s into 00s Prince for the lack of “soul”, for the lack of feeling, of truth in his playing… I wouldn’t have minded but we were listening to The Rainbow Children at the time and, of all that era’s output that album was the most organic, most heartfelt, most…honest of Prince’s music. The tour that accompanied this was awe-inspiring. But…but…listen to the talent. It flows too easy and perhaps that’s what disaffected my mate. He was all into Jack White at the time and the crunch of a White Stripe – fair enough.
I haven’t played much released music since Prince died. I’ve been lost in Junk Music, the Black Album (that was never properly released – no matter what discographies and 1994 may say), Small Club. I’ve really gone back and gone over Madhouse…so I suppose I have listened to some released music…and The Family. A magic period of time. Listening to the final Atlanta show was heartbreaking. Then that rehearsal video appeared. The Nude Tour, Prince at the piano…”Summertime”. Such ease, such fun. Such talent. (another sat staring at my hands moment…like, “what’s to come next?”…what’s the point feeling…)
And it’s over.
It’s so tremendously sad.
I’m not entirely sure when I’m going to listen to HitNRun Phase 2. I will. Of course, I will. Not now, though. Not at this moment in time. I think I’m burying myself in Prince, smothering myself in Prince, shrouding myself in Prince before I have to listen to the end of Prince. You know what was cute about it all though? The cost. hearing the girl behind the counter say, “That’s nineteen ninety-nine…”… it made me smile.
In 1978 Prince’s first words were “All of this and more is for you.” There isn’t enough “and more”. There is no more. This isn’t a matter of savouring. It’s a matter of prolonging, I guess. Poor old mistaken me. Prince is Dead. Not 1958 to 1993, but 1958 to 2016.
It so tremendously sad it’s over.