45 REVELATIONS

45 REVELATIONS

Ken Barnes

You might be as sick of hearing (and reading about) Prince as I am, but one thing you’ve got to hand him—and it’s one thing he doesn’t always get credit for. He just may be the best producer around. I'm not sold on his sexual/religious messianic ideology, still think “1999” is about as profound and inspiring a message as “Dust In The Wind,” and find many of his songs tedious in the extreme. But they sure sound good.

There’s an unmistakable presence in “Little Red Corvette” and even the older hits like “Uptown” and “I Wanna Be Your Lover” (which I prefer to the new stuff in many ways, but has anyone stopped to wonder if one of the reasons Prince broke through to the masses is because he ditched his falsetto for the most part?). “Erotic City” remains naggingly fascinating, and not just because he and Sheila E. sing “fuck” 17 times.

The Time records that Prince co-produced cut through on Black Radio, and the Sheila E. singles and even “Sugar Walls,” the record he wrote and co-produced for Sheena E. under a pseudonym, make an arresting onair impact until you realize there isn’t much song or vocal performance there. But Prince’s production mastery really hit home for me with “Take Me With U,” as I realized that of five singles off “Purple Rain,” three had become faves largely because they’re paragons of production.

“When Doves Cry” is still probably Prince’s best-produced record, abounding in rich textures; “I Would Die 4 U” is no slouch either. But “Take Me With U” is nothing less than Prince’s “little symphony for the kids,” in the phrase Phil Spector used to describe his own masterworks. The Spector comparison is not inappropriate, though Prince’s layered percussion and string motifs create not so much a wall as a cocoon of sound. The only flaw in all this sonic perfection is Prince’s chivalrous notion to mix Apollonia's adequate-at-best vocals up to drown his own—the threshold of inaudibility would have been preferable.

But enough about Prince—spare a thought for Rick James. He’s always cast himself as Prince’s chief rival in image, outrage, and sexual braggadocio, but even before “Purple Rain” decided the issue once and for all, Rick was bound to lose because of age, a more threatening persona, and less willingness to stray from the funk.

Yet “Ebony Eyes” was a stunning Spectoresque ballad that should have crossed over, and if “Super Freak,” the daring new wave funk fusion that helped pave the way for Prince, had made a pop breakthrough in 1981, who knows what might have happened?

One area in which Rick consistently surpasses Prince, in any case, is in his writing and producing for his own female proteges, the Mary Jane Girls. Records like “All Night Long” and “Jealousy” are more musically substantial than Prince’s Vanity 6, Apollonia 6, or even Sheila E. records, and the relentlessly grooved “In My House” continues the tradition (as well as the tradition of abject femalesubmissive lyrics from male songwriters).

Speaking of which, Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis take the SOS Band out of the uttersubmission realm on “Weekend Girl,” on which Mary Davis manages to dither around for four minutes, driving her swain crazy, before accepting an invitation to go away for the weekend. The usual dreamy production makes it standout No. 3 off the Just The Way You Like It LP. The Sylvers, who have been quietly making excellent records during their long convalescence from “Boogie Fever” (itself one of the best non-Jacksons black bubblegum records), explore the semi-ballad SOS groove on the lovely “Falling For Your Love.”

Shalamar combine an ultrajittery dance track with cushioned background vocals for their best record since my idol Jody Watley left. De Barge have a massive hit with “Rhythm Of The Night,” their best by far, with much of the Caribbean infectiousness of Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long.” Melba Moore borrows Billy Ocean’s “Loverboy” producer Keith Diamond for “Read My Lips” and benefits from the same power-chord/R&B fusion.

One of the countless drawbacks to that most bastardized artistic medium the pop video is the way it taints public reaction to an artist through visual irrelevancies. Poor Madonna, for instance—six wonder singles and people want to obliterate her because her belly button shows and her less-than-gorgeous writhing makes their gorges rise. Unfair—judge the record, not the video. Unfortunately, "Material Girl” is everything her detractors (heretofore mistakenly) lambaste her for—the material is sickeningly coy, her vocal is coquettish to a fault, and she even squeaks like a junior league Dale Bozzio. Her newer single, "Crazy For You” from the Vision Quest soundtrack, is an OK ballad, but OK ballads aren’t Madonna’s forte. Her (top) forte is wistful and delicately pretty dance material like “Material Girl’”s flip side, “Pretender,” or more upbeat sparklers like “Gonna Dress You Up,” which I fervently hope is the next single and redresses her artistic balance.

I may be sick of it next week, but Mick Jagger’s “Just Another Night” is an adroit rocker with a nice tune and nimble acoustic guitar solo. Eurythmics’ “Julia” is a sparse autumnal ballad that sounds more impressive with each hearing. Simple Minds’ “Don’t You” shouts “smash” from its opening notes, quiet power overflowing on their best yet.

The Farmer’s Boys have been verging on teriffic pop records for a while, and appear to have arrived with “I Built The World,” Costello with a soft center. The Scene look mod and have their ’60s "bah-bah-bahs” down pat on the rocking “Something That You Said.” The Harpoons’ “Tunnel Child”/”Cindy Storm” is the best rock debut of the month, the A-side containing traces of U2’s “I Will Follow,” the B-side hard-charging and hornpropelled. And rounding out the British contingent, 1984’s overpowering rock colossus, “How Soon Is Now” by the Smiths, is now available on 7-inch import and should be added to all discriminating singles collections.

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Latest Jesus casualty is none other than Sam The Sham, who spells his name in the shape of a cross and shovels the biblical imagery all over the reasonably rocking “Running With The Rabbits.” More secular and altogether more impressive Chicano artists Los Lobos get my vote for top single this month with “Will The Wolf Survive.” I’m not swept up in the outpouring of critical superlatives for their entire output, but this song is an instant classic, worthy of Creedence or the Lobos’ early-’70s spiritual brethren, the unforgivably neglected Louie & The Lovers. Austin’s Zeitgeist have something of the same spacious but solid rock feel on their “Electra,” a promising debut (1508 A Kirkwood Rd., Austin, TX 78722).

Hate to cut my own throat, but it makes more sense for new artists on independent labels to release albums or EPs than singles. Radio is far more disposed to play 12-inch configurations, and even though the artists may be forced to forsake the inestimably prestigious cachet of a review in this column, an album is more likely to attract a lot of reviews, rock critic pretensions being what they are. Many of the new breed American rockers have followed the LP-only course, so the restrictions of this column’s format have prevented me from raving about favorites from Dream Syndicate to Guadalcanal Diary. But the convenient technicality of a French single from the Long Ryders’ album allows me to rhapsodize about the locomotive rock juggernaut that is “Tell It To The Judge On Sunday” and “Fair Game’”s traditional country-rock harmonic appeal. However, even a singles fanatic like me has to admit it’d be much easier for you to pick up their excellent Native Sons LP domestically than to scrounge around for a costly and obscure import 45 (though if you insist, try Lolita Records at 80 Avenue du Maine, 75014 Paris, France).