Prince taught us life’s a party and parties weren’t meant to last
When David Bowie died in January, the world took the week off to mourn and I said to a friend, “I can’t imagine this happening for any other artist. Well, maybe Prince.”
Bowie was larger than life, his catalogue deep and he was making some of the best music of his career. But he had retired from performing and I never got to see him play. When he died, I resolved to see my heroes live.
Prince was at the top of the list. Not because I thought he’d die (you think your heroes will live forever), but because, like Bowie, he was larger than life and was still making some of the best music of his career. But he was also mercurial and one day he might be all: “I’m never performing again unless it’s at Paisley Park for three people! One of them has to have a purple parakeet!”
In March, Prince tweeted “Toronto, you got next!”
His royal highness was notorious for planning secret shows that were impossible to get into. He played here a few years ago and friends spoke of endless encores and finally getting up to leave, only to hear Prince boom: “WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? DON’T YOU KNOW I WROTE ALL THE HITS?” I regret not going.
When tickets went on sale for the Toronto shows, I blocked off two seats on the floor for me and a friend. “How much?” “A lot. Look, we’ll regret not going. We won’t regret paying a credit card bill.” So we paid $240 each and went.
Two days later, we were in a line of giddy people that snaked around three blocks. Passersby stopped to ask what we were waiting for. “Prince!” They smiled, but I could see the jealousy in their eyes. They were right to be jealous.
The tour was just Prince, a purple piano and a microphone. What else do you need? He commanded that stage. The piano was just an extension of his body. Where did the keys end and his fingers begin?
He told stories. He ordered us to dance, to sing and to clap, though we didn’t need much encouragement. We were Prince’s backing band, dammit! And he was the coolest choir director ever.
Prince’s music awoke something in people, musically, emotionally, sexually. But I didn’t really connect Prince’s music with his musicianship until 2004, when he played in a tribute to George Harrison at the Rock ’n’ Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony.
He stole the show with a blistering solo on “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.” At the end of the song, he threw his guitar into the air. It didn’t come down.
I’m not religious, but I believe Prince has ascended to the next plane of being. Whatever comes next, George is waiting there with that guitar.
See your heroes live. You think they’ll live forever, but life is just a party and parties weren’t meant to last. Tanis Fowler is a senior producer for Star Touch.