TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/111990/1119460.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 6.4 KB | 130 lines

                                                                                SHOW BUSINESS, Page 121

Still Thriving on Home Turf


Prince is not only on the Minneapolis scene, he is the scene

By JAY COCKS -- Reported by William McWhirter/Minneapolis


    Scott Fitzgerald put Minnesota on the literary map. Bob
Dylan put it on the musical map, then redrew the boundaries. But
Prince, born and bred in Minneapolis, brought the music back to
town, inspired what is now a $650 million local business, and
kicked back to watch the revolution -- and play with the
Revolution, which, as all Prince fans know, was the name of his
touring band.

    Of the many differences between Prince and his predecessors
(he's  shorter, he's a better dancer), one thing stands out:
Prince stuck around, working all his wizardry on home turf.
Fitzgerald and Dylan took off for the East and the high life.
Prince stayed put and made high life right there. He's a local
boy who's still on the scene. In fact, he is the scene.

    Many talented rock musicians and funksters are at work in
Minneapolis, but Prince dominates them all. He's had the hits,
grabbed the attention and held the hot center since his 1984
album Purple Rain burst onto a complacent music scene. "There is
no established music hierarchy here, no single right way to do
things," says Chris Osgood, who once played guitar with a lively
outfit called the Suicide Commandos and now heads the Minnesota
Music Academy, which offers free business assistance to local
musicians. "But the Minneapolis sound is really Prince -- some
parts straight-ahead rock 'n' roll mixed in with
rhythm-and-blues sensibility."

    When Prince introduced his carbolic combination of Jimi
Hendrix guitar overkill and contemporary dance rhythms, he
seemed like just the man to take the musical past into the
future. Recently, though, he seems stuck in his own deep groove.
Graffiti Bridge, his newest album, is by turns intrepid and
retrograde, bold and silly. That's not necessarily an unusual
mix for Prince, but what's new -- and increasingly troublesome
-- is his reliance on retreaded riffs and shopworn memories.
Graffiti Bridge, the movie for which the album is the sound
track, looks loopy, narcissistic and generally dispirited. It
continues Prince's unrequited love affair with the cinema that
began with his 1986 flop Under the Cherry Moon.

    Graffiti is a bridge to nowhere, unless you consider
another safari through Prince's quasi-mystical subconscious a
trip worth taking. Shot entirely in Minneapolis, mostly on the
sound stage of Prince's $10 million music- and film-production
facility, Paisley Park, the film looks like a skein of rock
videos strung around a badly frayed plot line. It has something
to do with Prince's falling in love with an angel. Also
something to do with Prince's playing his music his way and with
his vanquishing the forces of musical vandalism.

    Prince's crony Morris Day appears, quite amusingly, as the
headman of the vandals, and the producers Jimmy (Jam) Harris and
Terry Lewis show up as a couple of his henchmen. Harris and
Lewis were pals and musical rivals of Prince's back in junior
high school, and have gone on to some substantial success of
their own by producing the last two top-selling Janet Jackson
albums. But in Graffiti Bridge they are called on to re-enact
the old adolescent competition. Prince bests them, natch. As a
colleague explains, "Prince wrote the script, pulled in the
money, directed and used his own studios. How could we expect a
different ending?"

    The impression grows that Prince's energies are elsewhere,
either in feeding tales of his romantic exploits with the likes
of Kim Basinger to the p.r. machine, or in his turning into a
full-blown entrepreneur. Minneapolis' newest club, called the
Glam Slam, is run by Prince's bodyguard Gilbert Henderson, with a
rumored $1 million in financial backing from the boss himself.
Prince keeps instruments at the club, in case he should want to
drop by and jam. (Maybe tonight!) The place looks just like the
Glam Slam club in Graffiti Bridge. Stepping inside (cover
charge: $8) is not only like plunging into the movie but also
like taking a nose dive straight into a Prince fantasy. You can
even dress like the little guy. The world's first Prince
boutique is on site, where you can buy memorabilia, shirts,
jewelry, even a suit (price: $2,500-$3,000) tailor-made by
Prince's own wardrobe department.

    Paisley Park itself, located in the western exurbs of
Minneapolis, just 10 minutes from Prince's country estate, seems
as much like a monument as a working studio. The proprietor's
favorite black-and-white '67 T-bird can often be seen in the
parking lot. But he likes to keep out of the way, partly from
personal inclination and partly from business savvy. He doesn't
want anybody, according to one aide, "to feel like they've
walked into Graceland" when dropping by Paisley Park. He keeps
his various awards, including those for his four gold and eight
platinum albums, locked in a basement room. But next to it,
almost like tablets in a tabernacle, are tapes of an estimated
100 unreleased songs, plus two complete albums -- enough to keep
Prince in royalties for years, even if he never writes another
note. (Not much danger of that: he turned out 21 more songs
during his three-month European concert tour this summer.)

    Paisley Park, which showed a loss during its first two
years, is now a thriving facility. The sound stage has been used
for everything from rock videos to Hormel chili commercials. The
recording studios are state-of-the-art, and so too, in its way,
is Prince's private office, which features three beds (king,
round, day), one mirror (over the king), sofas, chairs and a
desk -- all built large-scale. "In the long run, the fewer
trappings we're surrounded by, the more basic and honest the
public's perception will become," says Alan Leeds, who runs
Prince's Paisley Park record label. "My only advice to Prince
is to continue to be as honest with his music as he's always
been. He could be this generation's Duke Ellington."

    A fan's advice might be a little different. There is,
contrary to the title of a Graffiti Bridge tune, no lasting Joy
in Repetition. Prince needs to open up and shake himself loose
the way he once shook up the music. He can't just go for a
stroll in the Park.