Prince

Track 7: Baby, I’m a Star Prince and the Revolution, Purple Rain (1984) From the summer of 1984 through the spring of 1985, Purple Rain was everywhere. The mainstream media was frenzied with rave reviews, speculation about his links to his protégés, and the delicious controversy over his brazen sexuality. Each element of the promotion machine compounded upon the others to create an undeniable force. The videos promoted the singles. The singles promoted the soundtrack. The soundtrack promoted the movie. The movie promoted the tour. Purple Rain was a pop cultural phenomenon. The album displaced Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA at the top of the charts and remained there for over six months, the sixth longest run in history. It moved more than thirteen million units in the U.S. and became one of the best-selling records of all time. He notched two No. 1 singles, book-ending the summer of 1984 with “When Doves Cry” and “Let’s Go Crazy.” His movie grossed a whopping $70 million and ranked as one of the biggest films of the year. For one week that year, the Kid held the top spot on every major chart: single, album, and box office. It was the only time since the Beatles that one artist achieved such a feat. In the past year, Prince had manifested his personal vision more completely than a troubled, little black boy from Minneapolis could ever dream. At that moment in history, he was the most giant of giant pop icons. During his concert sweep through L.A., Bruce Springsteen and Madonna paid homage on his stage, providing backups as he performed the ebullient “Baby, I’m a Star.” His ascension to pop phenom left an indelible imprint on the decade’s culture. He was a new breed of rocker, a snarling punk on a bike with a penchant for rose petals and doves. He manhandled his guitar but wore lavender high heels. His musical personality was an inconceivable conglomeration of ancestors: the tenderness of Michael Jackson, the flamboyance of Little Richard, the hyper-kinetics of Mick Jagger, and the grit of James Brown. In the fulfillment of his vision, he led the campaign that authorized playful androgyny during an era of Reagan conservatism and set standards of style and behavior that were acutely individual in a time of stifling sameness. In the process, he fully delivered on his mission of Sexuality, pioneering new levels of acceptability from which the nation would never retract. Of course, Prince made the most noise with his sounds, and in the world of pop, he redefined the meaning of prolific. Over the past eight months, Prince flooded the market with thirty-five original songs and charted almost a dozen hits. It was a lot of new material for one record company. It was an unthinkable amount for a single talent scout, creative director, writer, producer, arranger, choreographer, and multi-instrumentalist. In the process, His Purple Highness shaped the sound of the eighties. The Sunset Sound sessions set the tune for an entire generation, and as a lone teen had fantasized, that tune brought together the factions of a nation on one glorious, Uptown dance floor. The first three months of 1985 were one long medal ceremony for Prince. America bestowed its gratitude and praise. In January, Prince received three American Music Awards. In March, he won an Oscar. And the year’s Grammy Awards were refashioned into the music industry’s official purple gala. Prince took to the podium twice for Purple Rain, picking up trophies for Best Rock Performance by a Group and Best Motion Picture Score. Then, just when it seemed his cap couldn’t hold another feather, he was handed the Best R&B Song for Chaka Khan’s cover of “I Feel for You.” That night, he capped off his triumph by performing “Baby, I’m a Star.”