A Rendezvous With A Prince!

December 1979

Right On!

A Rendezvous With A Prince! [title possibly incomplete or incorrect]

by Cynthia Horner

MIDNIGHT — MY PLEASANT SLEEP WAS DISTURBED BY THE PERSISTENT RINGING OF THE TELEPHONE IN MY EAR. Sleepily I answered it still dazed at the lateness of my call. “Hello,” I said exhaustedly. “Hello,” a quiet familiar voice replied. “This is Prince. I want to talk to you.”

Only the deepest of slumber would prevent me from instantly knowing which Prince was on the other end of my hotline, “Prince who?” The nineteen-year-old recording artist mimicked my puzzled tone. “How could you ever forget me?”

Awakening suddenly, I was able to think more clearly. I decided that it would be best to talk to Prince in my office in the morning. I hung up and fell probably into a deep slumber.

The next morning, true to his promise, Prince called me and asked me to meet him at Farmer’s Market, a well-known fruit and vegetable mart where meals are served and gifts may be purchased. Who but Prince would think of such an unusual meeting place, I thought.

I arrived at our destination a little early. There was no sign of prints anywhere. After making a few phone calls, I was advised by people who didn’t know Prince very well to go back to work. This is what I did.

I set down at my desk and frustration wondering what to do and if this was all a joke. The ringing of my phone interrupted my concentration and I answered it impatiently. “Hi! I’m down here at Farmer’s Market waiting for you,” Prince exclaimed. “Hurry up; someone’s going to stab me in this phone booth if you don’t.” I decided to try again and speed down the street hoping to find him this time. If not, or one-year friendship will be at an end.

I stand out on the street corner searching high and low for a short, green-eyed teenager with an Afro. No one fits the description. Oh, well, he’s playing tricks again, I thought resignedly. Maybe I should go back to work. Then, for the second time that day my busy thoughts were interrupted—not via telephone since I’m outside, but by hands clasping tightly around my vocal chords. It was impossible to scream to the amazed onlookers so I whirled around and a mischievous impish young man with sparkling green eyes lets go of my throat and squeals, “I gotcha.”

Prince spent the next few minutes getting the bawling out of his life while a gas station attendant nods approvingly. After that with that winning smile he says, “Come on, let’s walk around and talk.”

It isn’t easy to interview someone walking around with a tape recorder through aisles packed with tourists, but at Right On! we learned long ago to get our stories the best way we can. Like my original interview with Prince in the January issue, it was conducted in a very unorthodox manner with him asking me just as many questions as I asked him. Thank goodness he’s becoming more talkative and gives me more than one-word answers.

The first piece of good news Prince laid on me was that his new album would be in the record stores by the time you read this and the single is called “I Wanna Be A Lover.” “You should have brought me a tape so that I could hear it,” I tell him. “I have one right here.” He pulls out an imaginary tape from his pocket. As he does so I take a real good look at him. He’s so different now, I never would have known him. Dressed in a pair of torn red satin shorts with a white tie-up shirt and suspenders, a pair of leg warmers and cowboy boots complete his unusual costume. Gone was his gorgeous Afro and in place was a new image. He’s not pretty anymore—he’s very handsome. His many fans would readily attest to that.

“Where were you earlier?” I asked him.

“I was walking around. I came here yesterday.”

“Are you ever going to move to California?”

He shakes his head no. “But I do like it a little better here than before.”

Have you experienced the loss of privacy at this point in your career?”

“Not that many people know who I am.” He considers and continues, “Well, I suppose they do but I don’t come out outside much so I don’t see too many people.”

“Have you gotten a stage act ready yet?”

“It’s ready but I won’t say what it’s like!”

Suddenly my calmness  deserts me and I speak to him sharply, “Why not? Why do you constantly put me through all these changes about your life?”

“Shh.” He puts his finger over his lips and look around at a casual group of people who have joined us on a bench. They probably weren’t even listening but Prince never take chances.

“OK,” I say, lowering my voice two octaves. “Why?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t be surprised when you see it.”

“If I guarantee you that I’ll be surprised, will you. . .”

“You’d say, oh, I knew that was coming the same way you would if I told you the end of the movie.”

“Why are you so mysterious?” I asked.

“I’m not mysterious. You’d like me to tell you the end of the movie?”

“If I were curious I would.”

Prince picks up my glasses, studies me intensely and remarks, “Have you always worn glasses?”

Refusing to be sidetracked, I continue, “is this a publicity gimmick you planned in advance. . . Your mysterious, I mean.”

Prince looks exasperated and says in a controlled voice, “I am not mysterious.”<

“I never read any articles on you.”

“You know I don’t like to do interviews.”

“But you have to so that people will know you who you are.”

“Why do they have to know who I am?”

“So that they will want to buy your records.”

“Why wouldn’t they buy them anyway; they did last time!”

“People like to have the inside scoop on the artists.”

“But they bought my records last time and I didn’t do a lot of interviews,” he persists naively.

I explain how important publicity is. Even Teddy Pendergrass is aware of its importance.

“How can we continue to publicize you if we don’t know where you are?” I shied him, changing my tactics.

“I thought you knew. . . Minneapolis. It’s small enough. You could find me.”

“I don’t even know your real name,” I remind him.

Laughing, he replies, this is my real name, Prince.”

“You don’t have a last name.”

“I do but it’s sooo ugly. It’s hard to remember and . . . well I’m not going to say it’s ugly but it’s long.”

“When did you stop using it?”

“When I couldn’t think of how to write it. That’s when I was younger.” He changes the subject this time. “Look,” he commands, showing me a great big hole in his satin shorts. It’s as if he’s a little kid pointing out his crime. “My manager’s cat attacked me. I gave him some chili and he got sick.”

“Why did you do that?” “He kept begging for it so I gave him a whole bowlful. This morning he attacked me.”

“Well, the cat probably had indigestion. Shame on you.”

“Guess what? This time my album cover as a photo of me on it.”

“That’s great!”


“Why are you so uninterested in attention and recognition?” I wonder.

“Would you like to have attention and recognition?”

“I’m not in your position so the question is irrelevant. I would like to point out though that our readers really like you.”

“I like them too so then I should give you more pictures and stories, shouldn’t I? But wouldn’t we run out of things to write about?”

“Let me worry about that. There are still things about Jacksons that the public doesn’t know.”

Don’t people get sick of reading about the same people all the time?”

Rather than wade in water over my head, I change the subject once again. It’s hard to keep Prince on one subject because he’s taking advantage of the opportunity to tease me and play jokes. He’s a kid, a darling little elf that you’d like to take home.

“What do you expect to get out of being a recording artist?”

“That’s a deep question.” Silence. “Well, it’s because it’s what I do best. It’s a job. I can’t pump gas or nuthin’ like that.”

“You didn’t have to be a recording artist you could have been such a position. It took initiative for you to land at a wreck A record company.”

“Well, when I got bored, I changed careers. I got tired of playing in a band. Besides, I didn’t find a record company, the record company phone me. Remember?”

“This must’ve been a goal for you to strive for,” I insist.

“Goal?” He repeated the word as if he had at never heard it before. “I kind of got into this because. . . You get paid for doing this and if I’m going to have a job, I might as well do something I like. I haven’t set any long-range goals for myself because I’m not ready to yet.”

The Big Ben clock strikes on the half hour but Prince and I ignore it as we get deeper and deeper into his philosophy of life revealing his innermost thoughts.

“How do you spend the rest of your time?”

“In the bathtub,” Prince smiled.

“No, you don’t.”

“A lot of it I do,” he says seriously.

I decide two can play his game. So in a straight face I quietly ask him, “Do you put bubbles in the bathtub?”

“Do I put bubbles in the bathtub?” he repeats with little comprehension. Suddenly it dawns on him what I’ve asked and he gives me one of those exasperated Prince looks. He turns his attention to peeling bark off a tree. Having nothing better to do, I try to join him. “I think I’ve started something, “Prince comments. “I’m not peeling the bark off really”; “I don’t have any nails,” I say. “Why don’t you have any nails?” Wonders Prince, “I have some. Are you jealous?”

After I answer some of Prince’s questions about what it’s like to work at a magazine he asks me, “Are you trying to start a romance between Patrice Rushen and me?”

“No. People should learn to read between the lines.”

“Some people think that you were starting a romance but I never did. I knew you wouldn’t—not intentionally. But that’s the reaction people had.”

“What else do you do in your spare time besides sit in your bathtub?”

“I ride my ten speed.”

“Do you have anything else that you’d like to say about your album?”

“This one’s a lot nastier.”

“Do you have any girlfriends at the present time?”

“I had one but she left me. I wrote some songs about it on the album.”

“Prince, I can’t imagine anyone leaving you. Do you know how many young ladies would love to fill her shoes?”

“That’s why she left me. Am I really that popular?”

“Yes, you are You’re not taking advantage of the situation, are you?”

“No, How could I? You mean if I went out and bought a used car and use my name?”

Laughing at his jokes are pursued intriguing topic of Prince’s girlfriend. “So she felt your instant stardom was too much to handle?”

“I don’t know, Prince shrugged his shoulders morosely. “There were other reasons too. I wrote about some of them in my songs.”

“Do you feel that it is too difficult to have a girlfriend under the circumstances right now?”

I’ve really only had one. I am not going to say she left me,” he said in thinking it over.

“We had discussions about it. Listen to my songs and you’ll understand.”

Prince went on to say that although he liked having a girlfriend, it’s really not very lonely because he has a pet to share his bachelors hideaway.

“What do you have for a pet?” I wanted darker curiously. Prince never had seemed like the type who even want one.

“I won’t tell you because you’ll just say I’m strange.”

I won’t say you’re strange. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be mean to you. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings before,” I apologize.

Prince watches me very thoughtfully for a few minutes and says, “I’m sorry I scared you by grabbing you by your throat.”

“Now, let’s see.” I close my eyes and I try to imagine what that Prince bought. “I know it’s not a cat or a dog. . .”

“It’s both,” he says abruptly with a straight face.

“What do you mean, it’s both?”

“I crossbred ’em. It’s a dog and a cat. The face looks like both animals. It’s black,” Prince joked. “What made you cross breed them?” I asked, playing along.

“There are some things I don’t like about cats and somethings I don’t like about dogs, so I got some of both. It made some of the bad things go away with a little prayer, of course.”<

Prince’s sense of logic can’t be beat. It can’t be understood either, so I swiftly change the subject to a safer topic. “Would you like to become rich someday soon?”

“Who wants to be rich? “He asks scornfully. “That only means more problems. I’m not rich and I don’t want to be. I learned how to drive, but I don’t have a car,” he illustrates his point. “I like my bike better.”

“Did you really hitchhike to this meeting place?” I ask in an attempt to find out exactly how he got to his destination without accepting a ride from a friend and without driving a car.

“Yeah. It only took 45 minutes. That was fast. What’s wrong with hitchhiking anyway? You must come from a rich family. I didn’t. I ran away when I was twelve. I went to my father’s house since he wasn’t living with us at the time. Then I ran away from him a year later. Guess how many times I’ve change addresses. Twenty-two times!” he exclaims proudly

My face colored with embarrassment as I realized what a fuss I had made over his hitchhiking earlier. My concern for his well-being and safety had fallen on deaf ears. “Well, if you’ve done all that, you must have laughed when I was worried about your hitchhiking.”

“Not out loud, I didn’t. I was respectful. Don’t worry: it’s not my time to die.”

“When did you decide to stop running away and stay put?”

“I haven’t yet. I told you I’ve moved three times since last year. It makes me feel older when I run away, like I’m achieving something.”

“I remember last time you told me your favorite food was Bubble Yum. Is that still true?”

“Yes. Bubble Yum is food. It’s nutritional. It strengthens the muscles. I’ll bet you never thought about it that way, have you? Not only that, chewing Bubble Yum is exercise. I also like Virgin Pina Coladas (a coconut fruit drink without the rum).”

Well, Prince, it’s time for me to go back to work so I’ll say goodbye for now.”

“No, I don’t go. I’ll buy you a banana.”

“No, thank you.”

“How a bout a dress?” He looks around at the store surrounding us and points out a shop. “Here’s a place.”<

“No thanks. . . . See you later.”

Prince and I part ways as the readers of this conversation probably wonder what’s wrong with both of us. I’m turning down a free gift from the famous celebrity and he’s wondering off to hitchhike back to his secret destination. You know what’s wrong with us? We are both individuals.


Will The Little Girls Understand?

February 19, 1981

Rolling Stone

Will The Little Girls Understand?

by Bill Adler

Snaking out from the wings toward center stage at the Ritz, prancing like a pony with his hands on his hips and then flinging a clorine kick with a coquettish toss of his head, Prince is androgyny personified. Slender and doe-eyed, with a faint pubescent mustache, he is bare-chested beneath a gray, hip-length Edwardian jacket. There’s a raffish red scarf at this neck, and he’s wearing tight black bikini briefs, thigh-high black leg-warmers and black-fringed go-go boots. With his racially and sexually mixed five-piece band churning out the terse rhythms of “Sexy Dancer” behind him, the effect is at once truly sexy and more than a little disorienting , and his breathy falsetto only adds to his ambiguity – for sheer girlish vulnerability, there’s no one around to touch him: not Michael Jackson, not even fourteen-year-old soul songbird Stacy Lattisaw. At age twenty, Prince may be the unlikeliest rock star, black or white, in recent memory—but a star he definitely is.

As quickly becomes apparent, Prince’s lyrics bear little relation to standard AM radio floss. In addition to bald sexual come-ons and twisted love plaints, he champions the need for independence and self-expression. And one song, “Uptown,” is, among other things, an antiwar chant. Further complicating the proceedings are the heavy-metal moans Prince wrenches out of his guitar and the punchy dance-rock rhythms of his band (bassist Andre Cymone, guitarist Dez Dickerson, keyboardists Lisa Coleman and Dr. Fink and drummer Bobby Z.), all of whom are longtime cohorts from Prince’s hometown—Minneapolis, of all places.

“I grew up on the borderline,” Prince says after the show. “I had a bunch of white friends, and I had a bunch of black friends. I never grew up in any one particular culture.” The son of a half-black father and an Italian mother who divorced when he was seven, Prince pretty much raised himself from the age of twelve, when he formed his first band. Oddly, he claims that the normalcy and remoteness of Minneapolis provided just artistic nourishment he needed.

“We basically got all the new music and dances three months late, so I just decided that I was gonna do my own thing. Otherwise, when we did split Minneapolis, we were gonna be way behind and dated. The white radio stations were mostly country, and the one black radio station was really boring to me. For that matter, I didn’t really have a record player when I was growing up, and I never got a chance to check out Hendrix and the rest of them because they were dead by the time I was really getting serious. I didn’t even start playing guitar until 1974.”

With his taste for outlandish clothes and his “lunatic” friends, Prince says he “took a lot of heat all the time. People would say something about our clothes or the way we looked or who we were with, and we’d end up fighting. I was a very good fighter,” he says with a soft, shy laugh. “I never lost. I don’t know if I fight fair, but I go for it. That’s what ’Uptown’ is about—we do whatever we want, and those who cannot deal with it have a problem within themselves.”

Prince has written, arranged, performed and produced three albums to date (For You, Prince and Dirty Mind), all presenting the same unique persona. Appearances to the contrary, though, he says he’s not gay, and he has a standard rebuff for overenthusiastic male fans: “I’m not about that; we can be friends, but that’s as far as it goes. My sexual preferences really aren’t any of their business.” A Penthouse “Pet of the Month” centerfold laid out on a nearby table silently underscores his point.

It took Prince six months alone in the studio to concoct his 1978 debut album, because, he says, “I was younger then.” Prince required six weeks. He controlled the making of both records, but notes that they were “overseen” by record company and management representatives. Dirty Mind, however, was made in isolation in Minneapolis. “Nobody knew what was going on, and I became totally engulfed in it,” he says. “It really felt like me for once.”

The result of this increased freedom was a collection of songs celebrating incest (“Sister“) and oral sex (“Head“) in language raw enough to merit a warning sticker on the album’s cover. “When I brought it to the record company it shocked a lot of people,” he says. “But they didn’t ask me to go back and change anything, and I’m real grateful. Anyway, I wasn’t being deliberately provocative. I was being deliberately me.”

Obviously, judging by the polished eclecticism of Dirty Mind, being himself is the best course. “I ran away from home when I was twelve,” Prince says. “I’ve changed address in Minneapolis thirty-two times, and there was a great deal of loneliness. But when I think about it, I know I’m here for a purpose, and I don’t worry about it so much.”

Prince Debuts At The Roxy

November 29, 1979

Los Angeles Times

Prince Debuts At The Roxy

by Don Snowden

It must be a daunting prospect for anyone to make his or her performing debut, save for a couple of hometown Minneapolis tuneups, before an industry-heavy crowd at the Roxy. That was the situation confronting Prince Wednesday [1] night.

Prince, 19, is something of a wunderkind who produced, arranged, and composed all the material and played all the instruments on his two Warner Bros. albums. His vinyl output, somewhat like Stevie Wonder‘s, is aimed squarely at the black-pop mainstream and crossover audiences but his live show is heavily influenced by hard-rock flash.

The result is a bizarre combination of musical and visual elements. Guitarist [Dez] Dickerson (black leather jacket and leopardskin pants) and bassist Andre Cymone (legs encased in plastic wrap) both look more punk than funk. Prince largely sticks to guitar and throws enough pelvic grinds and phallic guitar poses at the audience to give most obnoxiously macho rock stars a run for their money.

Prince sings in a thin falsetto that recalls Eddie Holman (remember “Hey There, Lonely Girl”?) , but his vocals lack the power to cut through the instrumental attack on the rock-oriented material that comprised half of the hour-long set. The largely black audience responded more favorably to the more restrained, carefully crafted funk exercises like “Sexy Dancer” and “I Wanna Be Your Lover.” The latter is the nation’s No. 1 soul single this week and also rising fast on the pop charts.

The slack pacing and Prince’s uneasiness as a front man can be chalked up to a simple lack of stage experience, but a more pressing problem is Prince’s attempt to straddle two disparate musical worlds. That’s not necessarily a bad move, but it is a jarring mixture at this point. Prince obviously is a talented new arrival, but he needs to reconcile those two musical instinct if he is to maximize his potential as a live performer.

Comedienne-illusionist Judy Carter successfully kept the capacity crowd off balance and laughing with a combination of unpredictable antics and feminist-slanted raunch that made telling points without sacrificing the humor quotient.

Right On!

January 1979

Right On!

[title unknown]

by Cynthia Horner

Prince is a mystery man. His record company biography is a collection of information similar to a Right On! fact sheet. It simply tells his name (the name he chooses to use), his age, and the fact that he’s the youngest producer in the history of Warner Bros. Records.

When you finally meet him; he’s still a mystery. It’s no wonder that Right On! (one of his favorite magazines) is one of the few publications that’s granted the opportunity to meet him, because those who have, have gone away unsatisfied. Why? Because Prince refuses to talk about himself. Getting answers from him is like trying to pry open a clam.

It’s not that he’s trying to keep himself a mystery, he just doesn’t have much to say. Sometimes it’s because he’s being a tease, and other times because he really doesn’t know what to say.

When I was sitting in a recording studio listening to him play an intricate piece of music on equipment I’ve never even seen before, I was amazed at the talents this eighteen-year-old genius possesses. His finesse on these instruments is better than musicians twice his age. Sunglasses temporarily hide his resemblance to one of the Sylvers, but outside in the bright sunlight, your struck by his handsome looks, his wistful, longing expression, and his glorious head of hair. Surprisingly, this strong masculine figure is really short—no more than about 5’2″ probably.

Prince’s home is in Minneapolis, Minn., a city, not typically known for producing music giants the way California and New York churn them out. His musical background consists of pianoplaying father (the person who insisted his first name be Prince) and a mother who sings. No, he didn’t grow up taking music lessons. “I took one piano lesson and one guitar lesson,” he recalls. “I didn’t learn anything. I taught myself.”

Thinking back, he laughs for a second and reveals a tiny part of his nature. “I’m stubborn,” he said, his brown eyes boring right through me. “I took a few music classes in school but mainly, I worked on my own.”

As the amazing success story unfolds I find it necessary to tell you that Prince not only wrote, composed, arranged, and produced all the tunes on his debut album, For You, but he also played all the instruments. Funny that he never had anybody teach him how to use any of them. When questioned about the amount of instruments he plays, he shrugs nonchalantly and says, “I don’t know, I never counted. I am learning to play the flute, though,” he offered.

A teenager’s deep immersion into the recording business is indeed rare. While other young men are exploring the wonder of the opposite sex or trying to prepare themselves for a career, Prince was creating an album which was so exciting, that it immediately drew interest from multiple record companies. The fact that his parents aren’t musical giants on a level of Maurice White or a Stevie Wonder makes it even more of a phenomenon. His personal manager Owen Husney, the person Prince turns to the most, explains.

“Prince is from a regular family, depending on how you define ‘regular,’ Compared to having been born in a Maurice White family, yes. But I think that the best thing Prince had was that he knew how to work with the right people intuitively in making the kinds of decisions that furthered him. This know-how helps him get to the right places at the right time.’’

Besides being at the right place at the right time, Prince’s self-confidence (even though outwardly he appears to be very withdrawn and reticent)  has taken him to unbelievable heights. After all, how many musicians would be bold enough to produce their very first album?

As Prince sees it, “I thought I knew my material better than any other producer and it seemed like I was best suited for the job,”

Obviously, Warner Bros. agreed since there was no hesitation in allowing this Gemini to produce his package the way he saw fit. In fact, his disco tune “Soft And Wet” which incidentally, is one of the tunes he sent to the record companies on demo tapes, is rapidly climbing record charts as well as being played constantly. How does he feel about it?

“It doesn’t seem like me,” Prince admitted, moistening his lips. Without meaning to, he does it very sensually. “Mainly because where I live is kind of isolated from the musical scene in itself. I can only tell what’s going on from reading magazines. When I hear ’Soft And Wet’ on the radio, it seems like someone else is singing.”

I’m inclined to agree because even though Prince, the singer, belts out his tune in a very high falsetto tone, his speaking voice is low and deep.

On a not-so-serious side, I ask Prince what are his interests besides music? Not a bit hesitantly, he replies, “Women, all kinds.” When prodded, he elaborates, “I like the ones with nice personalities.”

“Do you get out much?”

“No. Not really.”

“What age range of young ladies do you like?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

What are some of his “favorites”? He ponders but can’t think of any special activities or movies.

No favorite musicians either because as he puts it, “I haven’t had a lot of time to develop a favorite artist. I try not to listen to too many people. It’s distracting.”

Spoken like a dedicated musician.

“What kinds of clothes do you like to wear?”

“I hate clothes.”

Then you Probably seldom shop.”

“Well, no, not really, somebody goes for me.”

He looks down at his slacks and his nearly open-to-the-navel shirt over which a scarf rests fashionably.

“And foods?”

“Mashed yeast,” he says seriously, with eyes sparkling in humor. “I don’t know,” he laughs.”

“You just like to play around. Now tell me some of your favorite foods.”

“Bubble yum.”

“Okay, you win,” I tell him. “Tell me what your favorite subjects were in school besides music and I’ll stop.”

“Dismissal,” he says. “I didn’t like school or sports. Only when I was younger.”

Has success changed the Minneapolis boy wonder?

He shakes his head no. “But it changes everybody else,” ,he observed. “How they treat you. It’s not bad though,” he screws up his brow trying to figure out how to explain the phoniness of people involved with show business. “I don’t dislike it yet. The only thing I have disliked is the late hours. Not that I like to go to bed early, it’s just that when I’m working, it gets pretty weird.”

When told he’s becoming a sex symbol probably faster than he’s becoming a respected musician, his eyes naively widen in amazement. He’s not sure how he feels about it but he does know he won’t be getting married soon. When? “By the time I’m ready to get married, there won’t be marriage,” he said philosophically. “Probably in the year 2066.

“I wouldn’t mind having a child though, a test tube baby,” he said looking at me through those , that could turn a body to jelly.
“And I just want to say one last thing,“ added, taking over the tape recorder ” I really want to thank everybody for buying my album.”

After all, it was written for you!

Prince’s 1st Concert Is Energetic, Sexy

January 8, 1979 (Monday)

The Minneapolis Star

Prince’s 1st Concert Is Energetic, Sexy

by Jon Bream

He had the opportunity to play his first concert in New York’s prestigious, 20,000-seat Madison Square Garden. But instead, Prince, the teen-aged, one-man-band recording star, chose to debut at the Capri Theater, an obscure movie house in his hometown of Minneapolis.

Backed by five other young, local musicians, Prince gave an encouraging debut performance Friday before about 300 persons.

Jive-talking emcee Carl Ray of KUXL introduced the 19-year-old prodigy – who had produced, composed, arranged and played all the instruments on his first album “For You” – as the next Stevie Wonder. That comparison may have been a bit too lofty and presumptuous. But, in many ways, Prince (who was named after his father‘s stage name) lived up to his regal name.

He strutted across the stage with grand Mick Jagger-like moves and gestures. He was cool, he was cocky and he was sexy. Prince is a real showman. He reached out to the audience, and the fans, especially the teen-aged girls, embraced him.

His one-hour show sounded quite different from “For You,” which is dominated by falsetto singing and smooth, soulful sounds. Onstage, Prince and his band tore into an uproarious, hard-funk sound.

At times, it sounded like kind of a youthful if not immature mixture of the Isley Brothers (when they had Jimi Hendrix as their guitarist) and Sly Stone. Bassist Andre Anderson and guitarist Dez Dickerson often relied on flashy pyrotechnics and overzealous showmanship. Yet, what the players lacked in sophistication, polish and experience, they made up for with refreshing energy and emotion.

By contrast, Prince’s singing was more thoroughly professional and quite convincing. He demonstrated a fascinating, female-sounding falsetto with uncommon range. Unfortunately, several times his voice (which recalled Smokey Robinson’s) was swallowed by the feedback and clutter of the inferior sound system. Even the pretty, acoustic ballad, “So Blue,” was marred by an annoying buzz in the sound system.

Despite delays for technical problems, the pacing of the show was effective. Prince, who played several different instruments during the concert, opened with the soft, catchy title song from his album. He then moved into a jazz-rock-funk instrumental and his dance-oriented single “Soft and Wet.” A couple of new, hard-funk tunes were sandwiched around the acoustic number. Then the program closed with a trio of tunes dominated by loud instrumental work.

The highlight was the finale, “Just As Long As We’re Together,” Prince’s contagious, new single that should appeal to soul, pop and disco audience alike.

As a whole, Prince’s performance clearly indicated he has extraordinary talent. Combined with careful direction, time, experience and refinement, that should spell a royal future for Prince.

The_Minneapolis_Star_Mon__Jan_8__1979_ (1)

Our Teen-Age Virtuoso Is Home To Play At Last

January 5, 1979 (Friday)

The Minneapolis Star

Our Teen-Age Virtuoso Is Home To Play At Last

by Jon Bream

Few people had ever seen the kid perform. But everybody in the local music community was talking about him.

“Hey, have you heard those tapes by that Minneapolis teenager who played all the instruments himself?”

Well, several major record companies heard the tapes and began courting the kid, known as Prince.

Warner Brothers Records signed him in 1977 to a reported three-album, six-figure deal and let him produce, arrange, compose and play all the instruments on his debut record, “For You,” which was released last spring.

Now, almost three years after Prince Nelson began creating a buzz, the local music community and Warner Brothers bigwigs finally will get a chance to see him perform. The extraordinary one-man-band will take the stage as a mere bandleader tonight and tomorrow at the Capri Theatre, 2027 W. Broadway.

“I’m nervous,” Prince said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll be terrified, because it’s gonna take a while to block out the fact there are people out there. I find it extremely hard to perform for people.”

“I think I found it hard to sing and play in front of my band at first,” said the 19-year-old, who has not performed publicly since he left a high school dance-band three years ago. “But now that I got to know them better, it’s really easy now and we all bounce off each other as far as energy goes. I think before I can bounce off the crowd it will take a few songs.”

Prince paused and looked down, displaying the reserve that has, in the past, led him to shun interviews and public appearances. He talks slowly, without a great command of the language. He stops in mid-thought, then suddenly, his big brown eyes peek out under the bill of his cap and he continues in soft-spoken monotone.

“I’m really free and open once I get to know a person. But when I first encounter something, I’m a little laid back and cautious. People constantly call me shy. I don’t feel shy, but I guess I sometimes come off that way to people. Everybody at Warner Brothers has a big impression I’m really quiet. If he doesn’t talk, he probably won’t dance or sing too much. I have to put to rest all those accusations.”

Making the transition from a one-man band to a frontman was difficult at first, but Prince says he’s handing it. “It’s complicated at times,“ he said last week in an interview at the west Minneapolis home where his group rehearses. “It’s fun when you hear it [his music] all come back with someone else’s interpretation. Deep down, I can tell it’s different, but sometimes on the surface it’s better. It’s not just me doing everything, trying to keep my energy level up at all times.”

Onstage, Prince will play different instruments on different songs. He has been working out the arrangements for the past several weeks with the five members of his band.

Like their leader, the other members of the band are young, unknown Minneapolis musicians, some of whom play more than one instruments. The oldest is 23.

Prince spent about four months auditioning local musicians for his group. He was determined to limit his search to local players because he feels there is “a lot of unknown talent here.”

However, he said he feels the local music climate stifles musicians. “There is not a lot of incentive here like there is in Los Angeles,” Prince said. “That’s one of the reasons I’m doing the concert [which is a benefit for the Capri, whose owner hopes to make it into a club]. There could be more clubs and more [variety to] radio stations here.”

Nevertheless, Prince appreciates the quiet of the Twin Cities and goes out of town for excitement. He’s kind of a loner and homebody who prefers to record in his studio and experiment with the couple of dozen instruments he plays.

When he was 5, Prince, the son of a show business couple, composed his first song using two rocks. He says he graduated to bigger rocks and bricks before his writing began to improve and he took up the piano at age 7.

He had one lesson. He never learned how to read or write music, but that didn’t deter his curiosity about instruments. When he was 13, he picked up the guitar. A year later, he began playing drums. The bass, organ, clavinet and an arsenal of synthesizers soon followed.

During those formative years, Prince preferred to make music, rather than listen to it. He stayed at home and learned his instruments. Thus, his childhood was rather introverted.

“I missed out on a lot,” he reflected, “but I don’t regret it. I missed out on socializing. But I get high off playing my music or going to a movie alone. I used to like to play sports, but I had to quit that. I used to want to go to college. I certainly don’t have time for that. At one time, I wanted to get married and I don’t have time for that. I wanted kids, too. But I don’t have time for that, either. I think the things I missed out on, my mind has changed about them. I think I’ve done what I wanted to do in life. In teen-age life.”

Indeed, at 18, Prince became the youngest person ever to produce an album for Warner Brothers.

He spent five months holed up in ritzy recording studios in San Francisco and Los Angeles. Sly Stone and members of Santana stopped by and offered encouragement. Prince was honored, but he already had enough confidence, even though his one-man project ran way behind schedule.

The results have been pleasing, he reports. “For You” entered the top-200 album charts and also scored on the soul and disco charts. His single, “Soft and Wet,” was well received in Los Angeles, Atlanta, Houston and the Carolinas.

To help promote his album, Prince attended autograph parties in some of those areas. “It was weird,” he recalled. “It was mostly kids from 11 to 20. They were relating to me being so young. There’s been ads in the teen magazines and my age has really come up.”

“The kids would ask me if my real name is Prince, what “Soft and Wet” means, and did I really play all those instruments myself.”

At a recent autograph party and disco dance in North Carolina, however, Prince didn’t have much of a chance to talk to his fans. He said about 3,000 kids showed up and after about 20 minutes, the crowd rushed the stage. Amid the hysteria, Prince departed and Warner Brothers representatives just passed out posters of him.

Back home, the budding recording star is removed from that kind of commotion. He doesn’t have to listen to Warner Brothers’ overblown build-up, look at record-store posters or read the write-ups in teen magazines and black publications.

“I try not to listen to that,” Prince said. “People expect you to be an egomaniac because of who you are. The way I am now, I was always. I suppose if I lived in California and rode in limos and had people waiting on me hand and foot, I could change. I’m not into all that.”

Although he may be removed from the west coast record business mania, Prince is not without his pressures in Minneapolis. He recently parted with his manager, Owen Husney, who had been his mentor and benefactor for more than two years. Husney declined to comment but Prince said the split was for personal reasons. The musician said he has arranged to “take care” of his business affairs.

Prince’s booking agency is setting up a brief concert tour this winter and spring. Agents for such performers as Ashford & Simpson, Santana and Chaka Khan have expressed interest in having Prince appear as their opening act.

After his tour, Prince expects to return to the studio to record his second one-man album. He hopes the disk will be an improvement over “For You,” but he doesn’t feel pressured.

He often thinks big, but he speaks with a soft-spoken confidence.

“I do what I want to do,” he said, “otherwise, this business will kill you. It [success] will happen if it’s supposed to. I don’t worry about it too much. What it all boils down to is nothing means nothing except love. As long as I got that, I don’t need money. If I went broke, it wouldn’t faze me. Love and music. As long as I got that, everything’s cool. Everything.”

The Power And The Glory, The Minneapolis Story

January 19, 1979 (Friday)

Twin Cities Reader

The Power And The Glory, The Minneapolis Story

by Martin Keller

When local disc jockey Kyle Ray introduced Prince’s debut concert at the Capri Theater in north Minneapolis earlier this month, he hallelujahed in the tradition of Muhammad Ali: “The power and the glory, the Minneapolis story—PRINCE.”

He wasn’t just fanning the audience. At 18, this young black wizard from the Twin Cities plays countless instruments, and wrote, arranged, produced, played and sang everything on his first album. He is indeed powerful.

Another new album has been written, and is ready for production sometime this winter, and when a tour that Warner Brothers is preparing for him commences, Prince will stand realistically on glory’s doorstep.

His prodigious talents drew four Warner Brothers executives from California to his premier engagement here. Coming all the way from the sunny west coast to the frozen, below zero confines of Minnesota, the record moguls reportedly left the Twin Cities satisfied that their “client” could perform well with a band and entertain with a great degree of professionalism. They left convinced, in other words, that Prince is going to be a star.

Sitting quietly at a friend’s house before a practice session with his new band, Prince quickly dismissed any talk of stardom and the particulars that accompany it.

“I don’t think about it,” he said in a low voice which sometimes is almost a whisper. “It’s all just part of the dream factory. If it happens, it happens. It’s best not to even worry about that, ’cuz if you strive for it and don’t get it, you’ll be disappointed and feel like a failure.”

Even with that kind of mature realism working in his favor, though, Prince is already conscious of the effect he might have once he begins the rounds as a full-time performer. Dressed like Jimi Hendrix on opening night, and wearing his hair in falling braids for the interview, it was hard not to think of him as another Stevie Wonder.

He admitted, somewhat unabashedly, that he would like “to appeal to as many people as possible and keep them on his side.” He may not be thinking about stardom, but his strategy is geared toward that end.

Prince is the sixth youngest in a family of ten, mother and father included. His father plays piano and writes music, and at one time performed in a swing band.

“My dad called my piano playing ‘banging,’ and didn’t pay much attention to it. I guess I was seven then. I never really listened to music, either, and I still don’t very much. There’s never nothin’ I can get into. If I listen to a record, I head something that I’d like to do differently, and I become too critical of it. You shouldn’t be that way, ‘cuz the group took their time and effort and worked on it. I’d rather just do my own thing.”

Doing what pleased him, Prince picked up instrument after instrument and mastered them all. His high school days at Minneapolis Central thoroughly bored him, and once his music teachers discovered they had a monster talent on their hands, they left him completely alone.

“They’d just lock me in a room, once they understood what I was doing. I skipped school a lot, but I graduated early; dismissal was my favorite time of day. I believe in teachers, but not for me. Anything creative I don’t think can be taught, otherwise you get somebody else’s style; it’s not yours, it’s theirs.”

Undoubtedly, this philosophy propelled Prince in the recording studio at Sound 80 where he began work on his debut record, For You. He literally took charge of the whole process. Calling him self-reliant is a gross understatement.

The demo tapes from For You were taken to a number of record companies before Warner Brothers agreed to give Prince what he wanted: a sizable advance and full control of the production, playing, singing, and arrangement on the LP.

“I’ve written 20 songs for the next album, and I think Warners is going to let me handle all of the record again. I didn’t have any particular thing I was trying to accomplish on the first record—I was just putting down what I heard in my head. I wouldn’t say the second one will be like the first, but it’ll sound like me,” Prince said, toying with a tambourine.

His debut concerts surprised many. He and his five piece band chose to play a heavy metallic series of songs mixed in with the “soft and wet” textures that color the disco and funk pieces on For You.

“I like to play a lot of guitar. That heavy sound goes better in concert than it does on record. I guess synthesizer is my favorite instrument now, and that’s part of the reason for two keyboard players. I really like working with this band, and I’m gonna do an album with them where everyone writes and I’m just there playing with them. They’re really great individually as well as collectively.”

Despite Warner Brothers’ attempt to solicit L.A. musicians, Prince finally settled on Minnesota talent. The record company flew him out to Los Angeles with Bobby Z., a drummer from Minneapolis, and a local bass guitarist Andre, a longtime friend and a great showman himself. The three of them spent a couple of tedious days auditioning players.

Gail Chapman, keyboard player in the band, moved from Duluth where she had played with “eight commercial-sounding groups,” and met a cousin of Prince’s while living on the northside. She jammed with Prince, and eventually was invited to join. “This whole band was formed from jamming,” Bobby noted.

Dez Dickerson got his job after playing just 15 minutes with Prince, while the other keyboard player, Matt Fink, persistently called Prince’s former management company six months before the band even formed.

Prince’s quiet manner may be the ideal stance in the face of the towering music industry, where talent is often less important than the machinations of the biz.

“The music end of my life I’ll probably always do, but not the business end,” said Prince softly. “I hate plane rides, too. I’d rather stay at home and rehearse, or play in the studio by myself. I like the quiet here in Minneapolis, and nobody bothers me; I’ll always keep a place here.”

The multi-talented prodigy, who once dreamed of becoming a cowboy or a fireman, lives alone with a couple of pet alligators, and chooses not to make the scene very much. He’s still under age for most bars in this state.

“I used to hang out at the Infinity (a St. Louis Park disco which recently closed) but I’d rather hear loud, live music if I go out at all. Actually, I spend a lot of time in the bathtub thinking. Music and playing is almost like breathing for me,” he said shyly in the low voice that belies his performing falsetto.

Prince plans to play here again soon, once the tour is set. “But before I can do that, I have to go to New York and L.A. and that means more plane rides,” he winced. Since his career might rest on the wings of those planes, I urged him to get used to it. “Well, I may not stay in music, you know. If I get bored, I may become an artist, a painter—I do that too. Or I might become a janitor or something else,” he shrugged.

Given Prince’s age and his remarkable abilities, it’s safer to assume that “the Minneapolis story” will spend more time in the air and on the airways than he will mopping up.”



May/June 1978

The Insider

Prince [title possibly incomplete or incorrect]

by Jeff Schneider

Prince believes in magic the kind you work at because it’s laying there inside you like a wand without an arm to wave it – and he’s been busy practicing his magic since he was seven, banging out Jazz and Blues songs on the piano. He was raised in South Minneapolis with his three brothers and four sisters. His dad, billed as Roger Prince, was a swing-band leader. His mother worked on and off as the band’s lead singer. When he was in the seventh grade at Bryant Junior High he joined a local dance band called Grand Central. Around the time he and the rest of the members were ready for a change of schools (Central High) they changed the band’s name to Shampayne. By the time Prince was 13 he was comfortable with a bass or a lead guitar. A year later he began working on the drums with a Magnus Chord Organ, a clavinet, and an array of synthesizers following the beat of his magic in the making. A formal musical education didn’t have much influence in that magic. Prince says as he recalls his school days, “I took one piano and two guitar lessons while I was in school. I wasn’t really a model student. I didn’t want to play the funky stuff music teachers used and I couldn’t read music. It would always end up that the teacher would go through his thing, and I’d end up doing mine. Eventually they just gave me an A and sent me on my way.”

“By the time I was a sophomore, school had gotten to be a real drag. I was getting further and further into making music. The more I found myself entertaining at local gigs during the night, the more I hated the thought of going to school in the morning.”

“But later on, there I was seventeen, a graduate and still frustrated. I felt that I had to keep going after the music but didn’t know how long I’d be able to do it and eat too. I did know that I wanted something more than nine to five.”

Frustration and the going-nowhere-in-a-hurry blues trapped Prince in a case of the ’Midwest Lethargism’ syndrome. He was struck with the affliction’s common symptoms. First you begin viewing the scene as lethargic. This lethargy soon spreads to your scene until you just know that the only way anything’s gonna pop is if you get the hell out to where the action is. Destination choice is another predetermined characteristic of the affliction. You only see apples or oranges in your dreams. Prince chose the Big Apple because an older sister, Sharon, lived there.

“The only way I can relate to that period, is that it was part of a search,” Prince admits.

“While I was living with Sharon I got hooked up with a woman producer who was always busy pitching her own angles. She was only looking at me as a singer, the kind that opts for the silk capes, high heeled shoes and white Cadillacs. You know, somebody who dresses and sings the same part – a nice dresser and a sweet singer. I tried to explain that even though I didn’t have the key to the recording industry, that I knew myself and that I knew for sure what I would and wouldn’t do for that Key. I told her I never considered myself a singer. I saw myself as an instrumentalist who started singing out of necessity. I don’t think I ever got through, but I tried explaining, that to me, my voice is just like one of the instruments I play. It’s just one thing I do.”

Two years ago Prince was just another 16-year-old musician with a band. The drummer’s mother managed it, arranging as many school gigs and club appearances as she could. Today he’s an 18-year-old studio soloist who just may be sitting on the largest debut recording offer ever to be approved by Warner Brothers Records. Direction from Prince’s new manager, Owen Husney, a three-song demo tape and an awe-inspiring amount of talent landed a bottom line that reputedly ran into six figures.

The debut LP entitled Prince-For You established enough firsts in its own right to humble a limo-load of market-proven recording artists. “For You” is the first debut album ever to be completely controlled by the artist and his management. Prince was granted control of production, performance, composition and arrangement. On the LP, the Minnesota artist practiced what the contract preached. He arranged the material which — with the exception of “Soft and Wet” – he had created. In Warner Brothers’ Record Plant located in Sausalito, California this 18-year-old, 16-track neophyte stepped in and put down nine solid tunes — single handed. A previous studio merger had yielded the demo which had stimulated his lenient agreement. This time a developed conception emerged. Nine major league tunes — with lush instrumentation and enough multitrack voice dubbing to prompt the Divine Miss M into polishing her bugle.

Ironically. while Prince was in New York unsuccessfully explaining the magic he wanted to come across in a production to an unyielding producer, some of that same magic he’d left behind in Minneapolis was casting spells and lighting up wands on its own.

Before his eastern migration, Prince had gotten a call from Chris Moon, the owner of Moon Sound Inc., a recording studio in South Minneapolis. Moon had remembered the black dude on piano who had played with Shampayne in a previous session. Now he had a demo tape that needed a solid piano track tor icing. He knew Prince could easily handle the job and that he’d get an economical billing to boot.

After the pianist had added the keyboards he picked up a bass and suggested that it would also be an asset to the tape’s sound. Moon agreed, but added that he hadn’t planned on paying for a bass player too. While a mesmerized Moon sat behind the control panel, the kid from Shampayne laid down a tight bass line. Then he put the bass aside and pounded out a drum track, added an electric guitar lead line and finished by feeding the studio ’s recorders with multiple backup vocal tracks.

A short while after Moon had edited the tape, he asked the proprietor of The Ad Company at 430 Oak Grove to give it a listen. The agency ’s owner, Owen Husney had been through the corridors of the music industry. He’d done everything from local and national promotion to artist management over the years, and Moon was sure he’d recognize Prince’s unlimited potential when he heard the tape.

“That’s pretty good, who are they?”, was Owen’s initial response. While Moon explained that the “they” being referred to was one, and that the “one” hadn’t any positive commitments for the future, Owen’s eyes grew the size of record discs (color them platinum).

A phone call later and Prince was on his way back to the city of lakes; without the company of his silk pitching New York manager . . .

Owen and Prince became fast comrades. As it became apparent to Prince that he’d finally found a manager who would work with him instead of against him, the music began to flow. “I knew whatever had to be done for Prince had to be first class,” Owen stated. “If we went to L.A. or anywhere else to score a recording deal. we weren’t just going to go out there and phone record execs from our hotel room.” “The best support I could offer was to give Prince the confidence he needed to keep on doing it.”

A demo tape was cut at Sound 80 studios. The event, the young artist’s first long-term studio stay, created a bond between man and music-machine that isn’t likely to be broken. “For me, there’s nothing like working in a recording studio. It’s satisfying. It’s like painting. You being with a conception and keep adding instruments and laying tracks down. Soon, it’s like the monitors are canvas. The instruments are colors on a palet, the mikes and board are brushes. I just keep working it until I’ve got the picture or rather the sound that I heard inside my head when it was just an idea.”

Owen admits that Warner Brothers had a slight edge in negotiations due to friendships he had cultivated at the Southern California base. “But we were approached by everybody, and we considered each proposal.” Owen goes on to explain that although A&M and Columbia were more than a little interested in the 18-year-old Minnesota virtuoso, Warner Brothers showed the most positive interest in Prince’s music itself.

“We were wined and dined by a lot of companies, but when everybody else was talking gifts and bonuses, the people at Warner Brothers were actually listening to the demo.”

Owen also recalls an incident in the negotiations during which the duo demanded the unprecedented latitude that the final agreement out lined. “Naturally, their first reaction was sure, doesn’t everybody nowadays want to have complete control?”

After a visit to a studio where Prince displayed his creative expertise first hand, Warner Brothers was convinced. Complete control could be granted on the debut disc. A three-year, three-album contract was signed.

Owen says, “I made a point of not hassling Prince while he was working at the Record Plant. They’d go in at 7:00 P.M. and usually end up staying until sunrise. He kept the pace, five, sometimes six days a week for five months. Periodically he’d give me a tape so I could keep abreast of his progress, but otherwise he handled it himself.”

Currently, Prince is back in the Twin Cities, working on soundproofing his basement so the neighbors aren’t bothered as he jams the night through. He’s not star-struck over the recent airplay he’s been getting all over the country, but confesses that hearing one’s own tunes on the radio is altogether another kind of adventure.

“I was driving down the street in my Datsun the first time I heard it,” he says. “It wasn’t that I couldn’t believe it, it’s simply that my heart dropped to my knees.”

He’s also enthusiastic about taking his show on the road. That is, as soon as he assembles it. “Andre is a musician friend of mine from the days of Shampayne. He’s the only definite member of my touring group so far. Andre is a lot like me; he eats, and sleeps his music and that’s the only kind of people I want with me on that stage. I’m planning to add 6 or 7 people, a couple of keyboardists, a rhythm player and a percussionist. I’m looking for a big stage sound so I’d like to find people who can sing, too. During the performances I guess I’ll play guitar because that will allow me to move. It would be great if I could strap a piano around me too.”


Prince: A One-Man Band And A Whole Chorus, Too

April 30, 1978 (Sunday)

Minneapolis Tribune

Prince: A One-Man Band And A Whole Chorus, Too

by Tim Carr

Two summers ago, Chris Moon, the proprietor of Moon Sound Inc., a recording studio in south Minneapolis, had written what he felt was salable original material. He recorded the songs with just an acoustic guitar, as a demonstration tape for his studio, but when he played them back he realized he needed a piano player to “sweeten” them.

Moon had previously recorded tapes by a local group, Champagne, which featured a 16-year-old musician, who not only was good but would play the piano for not too much money. Moon gave the kid a call, and he accepted. After the pianist had laid down the keyboard track, he asked Moon if he wanted some bass on the song.

“Sure, but I don’t want to pay for a bass player”, Moon said.

The kid went into the studio and laid down a perfect bass line…then he put some drums on the tape…added an electric guitar lead line…and finally went in and put down some multiple tracks as a backup singer.

A slightly dazzled Moon edited the material and took the finished tape to his musician-manager friend Owen Husney to see what the thought about it.

“Not bad. Who are they ?” Husney said.

“It’s one 17-year-old kid,” Moon replied.

Maintaining his cool, straightening his tie, and squeaking in a high voice, Husney managed to ask, “Who ?”


Prince – no mast name, no first name, no ”the ,” just Prince – was born in south Minneapolis on June 7, 1959, the son of a swing-band leader who used the stage name Roger Prince. His mother was the lead singer of the band. At the age of 7, Prince took up the piano.

“Around the time I was 8,” he said in an interview, “I had pretty good idea what the piano was all about.”

“I had one piano lesson and two guitar lessons as a kid. I was a poor student, because when a teacher would be trying to teach me how to play junky stuff I would start playing my own songs. I’d usually get ridiculed for it, but I ended up doing my own thing. I can’t read music. It hasn’t gotten in the way yet. Maybe it will later, but I doubt it.”

While in the seventh grade at Bryant Junior High, Prince joined a local dance band, Grand Central, which he played with until he was 16. (The group changed its name to Champagne when the members moved over to Central High School.) At 13 he had picked up the guitar. At 14 he was practicing daily on a drum kit. The bass followed naturally, as did an assortment of keyboard instruments – first a Magnus Chord Organ, a clavinet, and finally an army of synthesizers.

When Husney first heard the tapes, Prince has moved from Minneapolis to live with his sister in New York. Husney called him there, offered to be his manager and called him back back to Minneapolis to make some professional ‘demo’ tapes at Sound 80 Studios, where he discovered how a fully equipped recording studio worked and had a field day with the studio’s battery of synthesizers. His demo tape was very professional and impressive indeed.

Husney took the tape to the West Coast to peddle it to the major record companies. The Tape sold itself. Husney said every major record company was knocking on his door, wining and dining and offering him bids. “I meant, it was amazing. Herb Alpert (the A of A&M) was calling my office directly.”

Husney and Prince decided to go with Warner Brothers Records, which reportedly offered the now 18-years-old a six-figure contract, a three-record deal and allowed Prince to produce his own debut album. He is the youngest person ever to have produced a Warner Bros. album.

“Prince – For You” is the title of the album. Besides producing the album, he composed and arranged its nine songs and played every instrument and sang all the vocal parts on each song.

On the record, Prince plays the studio as if it were a musical instrument – as much so as any of the 27-or-so instruments he plays on it. Overdubs and multitracks bend together into a shimmering, lushly produced whole. A conglomeration of synthesizers creates the illusion of a full orchestra on some tracks, a horn section on others and a quizzical, simple serpentine organ line on others. There’s a little of everything here, even some blues buried deep down under all the jazz and pop and funk and rock and…

The album opens with Prince singing against 45 other vocal tapes of himself – a Niagara of voices cascading and intertwining over and around each other in a dreamy, romantic melody. It closes with a hard-rocking fireball titled “I’m Yours ,” wherein Prince shows that his guitar playing need not cower beneath his synthesizers. Three clean lead guitar lines a la Carlos Santana, all distinct and all cooking, wind around each other, jump from track to track (he knows how to use the studio) and wind up into a final, fiery fade-out.

And there are seven songs sandwiched between those two, too, varying vastly in mood, instrumental arrangement and musical genre. They are mostly love and lust songs, sung softly and carrying a big beat.

“I wanted to make a different-sounding record,“ Prince said last week while sitting in Husney’s Loring Park office. “We originally planned to use horns, but it’s really hard to sound different if you use the same instruments. By not using horns on this record, I could make an album that would sound different right away. So I crated a different kind of horn section by multi-tracking a synthesizer and some guitar lines.” ”I got hip to polymoogs (polyphonic-two handed-synthesizers) when I was here working at Sound 80. I liked them a lot then. I was trying to get away from using the conventional sound of pianos and clavinets as keyboards, as the main keyboards, so I Thought I would try to use that as the main keyboard on a few songs – and it worked. I think the main reason artists fall when they try to play all of the instruments is because, either they can’t play all the instruments really well – there is usually a flaw somewhere – or they don’t play with the same intensity each track. It’s a hard project to do, but you have to pretend each time that this is going to be your only track and that you’re the only guy who’s going to play that instrument. So every time you go into the recording booth, you have to play like it’s your only shot. If you do that, what you end up with is a whole band that is playing with the same intensity.”

What Prince ended up with was indeed a very intense pop-funk band…er… “I don’t like categories at all,” Prince said, reeling at the mention of a label for his music. “I’m not soul and I’m not jazz, but everyone wants to call me one or the other. The Bee Gees aren’t called soul. They’re pop or something. Whatever it is to whoever is listening to it is what it is. It’s hard to categorize the record, so I try not to use any categories at all. There is not one categorization that all of the tracks can fall into. Some are funk, some hard rock and roll, others like “For You” could be classical, you know ?“

What makes all them “Prince” ?

“It’s hard to say. I guess it’s just the basic sound. It’s hard to classify Earth Wind & Fire, for instance, but you can always tell it’s them when you hear them. It’s not a brand of music, it’s a group sound, identity of their own. If you want EW&F, you just go out and buy them. Maybe my voice, or just my total sound, who knows ? It is my album.”

Now Prince, who says he doesn’t want his real name known “because it’s too hard to remember,” is putting together a band to take with him on a national tour to promote the album.

“So far I only have a bass player, Andre Anderson from Champagne,” Prince said. “I’m going to New York to audition some people. I’m going to have two keyboard players on stage and have a lot of synthesizers. I’m not sure who I’ll have on stage. Right now I have to try to figure out who’s going to fit. I have to try and create a personality group. I’m looking forward to going out on the road ; I like performing.”

Will he bring any horns or woodwinds with him on the road ? “Well, I’m going to pick up a flute pretty soon.”



Youth Signs 6-Figure Record Contract

September 1, 1977 (Thursday)

St. Paul Dispatch

Youth Signs 6-Figure Record Contract

by Bob Protzman

A just-turned-18-year-old Minneapolis youth has signed a six-figure recording contract with Warner Bros. and is scheduled to begin recording his first album today in Sound 80 studios, Minneapolis.

Known only as Prince, the youth is reputed to have signed one of the largest contracts ever for a new act.

Owen Husney, Prince’s personal manager and president of American Artists, Inc., a management company, said Warner Bros. was selected over two other national recording companies interested in Prince — A&M and Columbia.

Prince plays a number of instruments and sings, but has not been seen in performance in the Twin Cities, the explanation being that his “ambition was to be a national recording star and he did not want to wear out his talent in local clubs.”

Husney, also president of the advertising agency The Ad Co., and a former concert promoter, said he has been working with Prince for about a year.
Husney, Prince and David Rivkin, an engineer with Sound 80, produced the demonstration tape that was used to gain Prince the recording contract.

Rivkin and a Los Angeles recording engineer will work on the album, 90 percent of which will be done by Prince alone, according to Husney.

“He plays all the instruments — drums, bass, lead and rhythm guitar, piano, synthesizers, and percussions. And he sings lead as well as all the backups,” said Husney. Prince also composes and arranges.

Under the agreement with Warner Bros., Prince will be album producer, meaning he will have artistic control, which is rare in the recording industry for a performer so young and new in the business. Also unusual, according to Husney, is the fact that Prince’s contract calls for a guaranteed three albums, when most agreements guarantee only one or two LPs.

No one will reveal Prince’s last name, but Husney said his father was a jazz bandleader who used the stage name Prince Rogers. His mother, said Husney, was a singer. They named their son Prince. According to an article in the Minnesota Daily last April, Prince began playing piano at 6, guitar at 13, bass soon after that, and had mastered drums at about 14.

His music has been described as “sweet, funky, disco soul.”

The first album is scheduled for release next January, said Husney. “After that, we’ll get together a good band of musicians from the Twin Cities and elsewhere and go on the road.”

Do you think Prince will become a star? “I know he will,” shot back Husney. But after a pause, he said, “Maybe I shouldn’t use the word star, but I know Prince is a legitimate talent and he’ll do well.”

St. Paul Dispatch