When Prince’s people call late on a workday afternoon and ask if you can be on a plane in a few hours to fly to Colorado to see him perform and interview him, what do you do?
First, you wonder who’s trying to prank you. Then, you say yes. Which is what I did this week.
And the whole adventurous, surreal chain of events was so perfectly Prince, I couldn’t have imagined it any other way.
Here’s what Minnesota’s quirky superstar is like, as experienced through my 12-hour whirlwind tour:
First, he’s impulsive. A calm yet bemused public-relations person left a voice message about 4 p.m. Monday admitting, “I know this is last-minute, but ... .”
It was. Prince wanted to invite someone from this newspaper to see his final show in Denver that night, starting in a few hours, before he returns to the Twin Cities to play two concerts May 25 at the Myth. I’m guessing he decided earlier that day about the invitation, and she was scrambling to make it happen. (Most press invites are planned months in advance.)
My return call to her started, “Hey, is this is legitimate?” It was.
Our pop music writer, Ross Raihala -- the logical choice to cover Prince -- wasn’t available. So without any information on where we were staying, what we were doing or even when we were returning home, my colleague, videographer C.J. Sinner, and I showed up at the airport just as our flight information was texted to me. Prince may be a free spirit, but I want credit for throwing caution to the wind.
Second, he’s elusive. Prince rarely gives interviews. That, and the last-minute nature of the trip, was why I was skeptical meeting the man was going to happen. The way the night unfolded reinforced my doubts. After landing in Denver, we went to the hotel for few minutes to get our itineraries, which didn’t specify when the interviews would happen, and then to Ogden Theatre for the 11:30 p.m. concert. Hoping to catch Prince before the show, we learned he was back at his hotel and we would meet him at the after-party. Until he appeared onstage about 11:40 p.m., I still had my doubts I would see him that night -- I was still waiting for someone to turn to me with a camera, smirk and say, “Gotcha!”
The high-energy, sonically tight show (read my review at twincities.com) ended about 1 a.m., when, surprise, we got word the after-party was not going to start for a few hours as Prince and his band were editing a video in his hotel suite. But at 4 a.m., after I had interviewed his band, talked with his house manager, chatted up the sound guys, heck, even asked the bartenders who had never met him what they knew, Prince arrived with his security at the lounge, circled us up and held court.
At this point, I had been up nearly 24 hours, which added to the this-can’t-be-happening feeling that I was, in fact, interviewing Prince. (Along with being elusive, he’s protective of his image, and no photography, audio recording or note-taking was allowed, dashing all of C.J.’s hopes for compelling video.)
Third, he’s positive. The hourlong interview was a round-table “shoot-the-breeze”-style conversation with journalists led by Prince as he called in his manager or band members to elaborate. The stream-of-consciousness discussion included his influences, his current collaborations, his hopes for his band -- bassist Ida Nielsen, guitarist Donna Grantis and drummer Hannah Ford. As the leader and mentor to 3rdEyeGirl, he seemed to genuinely want to help and promote his proteges -- to share his knowledge, learn from them and see them succeed. “They are the future,” he said, pointing to the band. During the concert earlier that night, he told the audience, “These are strange times in America now -- we’ve got to try to get along” and “I can’t argue with anyone anymore, I’m too happy, too blessed.”
Still, he redirected the conversation away from Minnesota’s historic vote on gay marriage that happened earlier that day and talked instead about living in the moment, which explains the impulsiveness. He was introspective, admitting, “I was nervous, too” the night he introduced and first played with 3rdEyeGirl in January at Minneapolis’ Dakota Jazz Club. The four have now played 34 shows and are completely comfortable together. The one time Prince turned negative was when he discussed lip-sync performers popular today, indicating they may be popular but they’re not musicians.
He talked of his friendships and artistic work with Janelle Monae and complimented talent ranging from Questlove to Jimi Hendrix. During a discussion about Monae’s new single with Erykah Badu, “Q.U.E.E.N.,” he playfully confused me by asking what I knew about Freddy Mercury. “I just got schooled by Prince,” I thought.
He said he “learned the Bible” from Sly and the Family Stone’s Larry Graham, an influence for his Revolution. He advised the journalists: “Your words matter” (so be careful). His manager, Julia, later showed the video he was editing, for “FixUrLifeUp,” a call to self-improvement with lyrics like “Don’t worry about what the crowd does/Just worry about being good at what you love.”
Fourth, he’s polished. Like most entertainers, Prince has the look. He had changed from a form-fitting, black-and-white geometric-patterned shirt and black pants to a form-fitting turquoise jumpsuit with bell sleeves and those sleep-mask sunglasses around his neck. He was wearing eyeliner to great effect and is not wearing a wig, as some have indicated. He’s fit, trim, demure and smells like patchouli. He carried a bedazzled scepter that he tapped on the ground as he talked, befitting his royal name. This was no cane a 54-year-old Prince needed to steady himself -- his dance moves a few hours earlier proved that. It was a bandleader’s staff.
Fifth, he’s impressive. Prince has been called a musical genius, a talented artist, the consummate musician. He’s eccentric, eclectic, electric and entertaining. I’ve tweeted before how many bands visiting the Twin Cities mention Prince or play one of his songs as a tribute. A cover band, Princess, featuring actress Maya Rudolph, played First Avenue in March.
Reactions from people when they learn I met him this week range from asking if they can touch my hand to holding up a crowd in the elevator to tell me her computer passwords are all Prince lyrics. They want to tell me their favorite song, the late nights they spent at Paisley Park, the friend of the friend of the friend who also once met him. They want to know what he’s like, which is why I wrote this.
My 12-hour tour with Prince was exhausting but exhilarating. And if his people call again, I’ll say yes.