Read another book from the same cupboard from which I retrieved Understanding Comics. I can't honestly say I found Joseph Vogel's study of Prince, This Thing Called Life, quite as illuminating as McCloud on his beloved comics, though Vogel clearly loves Prince just as much, since I knew most of the stuff in it through a sort of cultural osmosis, I suppose. But one thing really hit home with regard to the production of Prince's albums, especially those of the early 80's. Vogel argues, rightly as I now realise, that what made Prince's sound so distinct, apart from his innate genius, was that he was pushing material out at a phenomenal rate and not over-thinking the production. The result was a sort of rawness, despite the essential glossiness of the product.
I listened to Sign o' the Times at a reasonable volume this afternoon whilst the Missus was out and, my goodness, my ears immediately got Vogel's point. Despite the brilliance and apparent 'finish' of the songs there's a sense in which these are drafts. It hit me most when playing Slow Love which I've always thought of as sweet soul music in the deepest sense, something perfectly made. Yes, but it's making itself up as it goes along. It's akin to grasping the underlying sense of improvisation in Mozart's most achieved works. The voice of something beyond delivered through frail human vessels.
Hey, I know that sounds more than a little over-inflated. But we're talking about Prince & Mozart here.
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