“Purple Rain” by Prince

Dearly beloved, let's celebrate 40 years of greatness.

“Purple Rain” by Prince

Hello! 😊👋

Welcome to a new edition of the Best Music of All Time newsletter!

Today’s music pick celebrates … no, worships at the altar of the greatest pop-rock album ever produced.

Genre: Rock, Pop

Label: NPG

Release Date: June 25, 1984

Vibe: 💜💜💜💜💜

Like the prodigious musical genius at its center, Purple Rain is still one of a kind 40 years after its initial release.

Sure, you can trace some elements back to Prince’s previous efforts, from the perverse charm of 1980’s aptly named Dirty Mind to the dazzling funk display in 1982’s 1999. But this record didn’t merely expand on that promise creatively or, as some have said in the decades since, blazed a new trail for rock, pop, new wave, R&B, synth-pop, electronica, and a dozen more genres that aren’t coming to mind at this precise moment. It defies categorization from both a music and pop culture standpoint. Countless artists have tried to follow in its footsteps by replicating parts of the template with vastly diminished returns, which is to be expected. You can’t recreate once-in-a-generation phenomenons like this one at will. In my lifetime, I’ve never heard a record that gets me to the same place as Purple Rain, and I doubt I ever will.

The creative flex extends to the eponymous film, which Prince initially used as a bargaining chip in contract renewal negotiations. Said his former manager, Robert Cavallo:

“I call [partner Steve Fargnoli] and he’s on the road with Prince: ‘Steve, there’s about a year left on our deal, mention to Prince that we’d like to re-up.’ A day or so later I get a response: ‘He’ll only sign with us if he gets a major motion picture. It has to be with a studio — not with some drug dealer or jeweler financing. And his name has to be above the title. Then he’d re-sign with us.’ He wasn’t a giant star yet. I mean, that demand was a little over the top.”

Every major studio initially slammed the door in Cavallo’s face, forcing him to produce the film himself. When he and Prince’s team eventually met with the distributor, Warner Bros., the company’s first choice for the lead role was supposedly John Travolta (lol). Even Prince’s newfound guitar goddess, Wendy Melvoin, didn’t think the project was bulletproof. “It was exciting, but I was concerned it would be cheesy,” she said. “[I] was really concerned with doing a rock movie and it not being as cool as A Hard Day’s Night.” But, through it all, Prince had an unshakable confidence in his ability to carry a movie, something that shines through in the final cut. “Prince was never a diva,” said screenwriter William Blinn. “He was there to do the work, and he worked his ass off.”

Shot in the fall of 1983 on a budget of $7.2 million, Purple Rain would eventually gross over $70 million worldwide, which would be over $300 million today. That’s an incredible achievement for a film that, let’s face it, is squarely average on a technical level. The direction and photography are satisfactory, while the performances range from adequate to awkward to downright strange. For most of its running time, it skates by on the strength of its Oscar-winning music and Prince’s unparalleled charisma as a performer. In newly remastered 4K (which you know I shelled out for as a pre-order), it’s even harder to take your eyes off him. He is the show.

The movie and album also allowed Prince to tell his fans an origin story. The troubled home life, an authoritarian father figure who told his son never to get married, fraught relationships with love interests and bandmates alike—there’s a lot of truth in what ended up on screen. The lyrics mirror that vulnerability, like this famous moment in “When Doves Cry,” the LP’s lead single that became Prince’s first-ever Hot 100 chart-topper: “Maybe I’m just like my father/Too bold/Maybe you’re just like my mother/She’s never satisfied.” But, despite those semi-confessional elements, he’s still creating a character, one that purposely leaves questions about his race and sexuality. Here’s a man clad head to toe in lace and velour, perfectly coiffed and eye-shadowed, who could steal any girl (or guy) in the film’s central music venue. Based on the infamous sex scene, the film leaves you with the impression he probably did.

The most direct link from Purple Rain to Prince’s previous musical persona is the iconic opener, “Let’s Go Crazy.” Its oft-quoted opening eulogy to “this thing called life” echoes the themes stated in “1999” and gives way to a different kind of apocalyptic dance party, one that trades in an out-and-out disco groove for a Van Halen-esque guitar solo and kinetic new wave backbeat. After that, you can hear him consciously uncoupling from those expectations and setting his sights on arena-sized jams. “Take Me With U” has a little “Raspberry Beret” in it, but with thicker toms and a catchier harmony. The unabashedly erotic “Computer Blue” is a collision of winding programmed drums and sludgy guitar chords, as if a Billy Squier lick is making out (and using a little too much tongue) with a George Clinton beat. It’s one of those stylistic combos that could only make sense in a Prince-ruled universe.

Then there’s what may be the low-key best track here, “Darling Nikki.” It’s darkly comic, at once both knowingly silly (yes, I’m referring to that line about the magazine) and incredibly controlled. Cymbals crash, synths pulsate, and his guitar wails. It’s the kind of messiness that grows on you every time you hear it precisely because of how deliberate and calculated it is. This song is the album’s true fulcrum, marking the moment he starts throwing curveballs at the listener several minutes before he airs his personal baggage on “Doves.” It’s a stunning ode to a “sex fiend” that may be more autobiographical than the aforementioned movie trivia. It also deserves attention for far more than that stupid (and very public) Tipper Gore crusade.

After “Doves,” the rest of the LP’s second side is the best musical stretch of the Purple One’s legendary career. “I Would Die 4 U” and “Baby I’m a Star” are primo party tracks that build to the improbable, irreplaceable title track as the ultimate pop-rock showstopper. It’s more than a ballad or a legendary ramp-up for a god-tier guitar solo—it’s the rare epic that, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I have to finish listening to it before I continue with my day. Along with Springsteen’s “Jungleland,” it’s also one of the few songs that’s made me cry on multiple occasions. If you haven’t watched one of the many live versions floating around on YouTube, I highly encourage you to go down that rabbit hole at your earliest convenience. You will be transported to another dimension, the one I’d like to imagine he now resides in.

I’ll end this post with the closest brush I had with the man himself. It’s also the story of the greatest miss of my lifetime: turning down the chance to see Prince in concert.

The tickets went on sale only a week or two before the concert, which meant there was a tiny window of opportunity to snag a pair. I was already booked for some nothing DJ gig that was paying me subpar money, but, being the industrious twentysomething I was, I chose to take the cash instead of the night off to see his eminence. I also wasn’t nearly the Prince fan I am now back then. Based on fan-shot videos from that tour, seeing him in his element, with just a piano and a microphone for support, was something to behold.

Exactly a month after that show took place in my hometown, Prince died of a fentanyl overdose.

Weirdly, I treasure records like Purple Rain more as a result. After hundreds of front-to-back listens, it has yet to wear out its welcome. In another 40 years, I have a feeling I’ll be making the exact same observation.

👉 Don’t forget to click the album image to stream the album on your favorite platform 👈