Almost effortlessly, Rick James was on a roll with his subsequent releases.
Bustin’ Out of L Seven (1978) and
Fire It Up (1979) quickly went gold, keeping intact James’ devious tradition of featuring himself with at least one girl on the cover. He also continued to avoid the strong social commentary funk was known for earlier in the decade, and showed no interest in creating a sci-fi alter-ego like George Clinton and his adventurous space cadets band, Parliament. Instead, he composed his funk tunes as a marching band for freaks—one of his most commonly used adjectives. In many of his songs, James presented himself as the natural go-to-guy for any kind of action. Resting his case in “Come into My Life”, he sweetens the deal by promising to “bring my private stash if you come”. James had a knack for pounding beats and didn’t permit long improvised solos. Still, he enjoyed shout outs, like “Horns Blow!”, cueing his group to step up. At times, James appeared as strict as James Brown was when he bossed around the J.B’s. But often enough, James led his parade at ease, demanding satisfaction and promising liberation for all the dancers, hustlers, and druggies to come his way.
Prince went on to record his self-titled second album in 1979, carrying a more reserved, mystical persona. He gave rare and awkwardly brief interviews which didn’t quite complement his newfound musical aggressiveness. “Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad” and “Bambi” soared with crushing sexual frustration; ballads such as “It’s Gonna Be Lonely” and “When We’re Dancing Close and Slow”, were now eerily erotic instead of hopelessly romantic. He generated profound intimacy by sparse instrumentation, soft voice and confessional lyrics, such as “sex related fantasies is all that my mind can see/ baby, that’s honestly the way I feel”. The looming theme of obsession was mostly sugar coated, for the time being, in the up tempos of “I Wanna Be Your Lover” and “I Feel for You”. Thus, Prince’s sophomore release was catchy enough to earn him his first immediate commercial success, including a national TV performance on
American Bandstand.
Rick James
Prince and Rick James were turning heads as the new men of funk. Each was a bluntly sexually driven figure who was exciting to follow as he groomed a musical talent about to manifest in its entirety. Yet to fully crossover, both continued to depend upon the same fan base of young black Americans. In 1979, James had begun hearing about Prince without giving him a second thought. However, concert promoters regarded them as two of a kind and a guaranteed attraction if billed together. Soon, Prince was slated as James’ opening act for the
Fire It Up tour. An inevitable clash was on its way.
James’ baffling first impression is duly noted in his autobiography
The Confessions of Rick James: Memoirs of a Super Freak (2007): “The first time I saw Prince and his band I felt sorry for him. Here’s this little dude wearing hi-heels, playing this New Wave Rock & Roll, not moving or anything on stage, just standing there wearing this trench coat. Then at the end of his set he’d take off his trench coat and he’d be wearing little girl’s bloomers. I just died. The guys in the audience just booed the poor thing to death.”
Other accounts suggest Prince made a point in upstaging James. Either way, tensions were running high throughout the tour. Backstage shenanigans of stealing instruments, physical confrontation and general intolerance were served cold by each artist. Long after parting ways, Prince and James never resolved their resentment and remained touchy when comparisons were drawn between them.
For both, the ‘80s marked the beginning of trying times and notable turning points. Prince released
Dirty Mind in 1980, which gained him the most notorious reputation he could have ever hoped for. His sexual frustration was slowly graduating into sheer confidence. Prince’s sensitivity in “When You Were Mine” and “Sister” had led to a challenging moral and sexual ambiguity. His desire was no longer confined to a traditional adult relationship. He also started to represent a collective thought, similar to Rick James upon backing those in need of “Bustin’ Out”. Prince’s “Uptown” and “Party Up” were also songs that projected the dance floor as the vital sphere in which a new breed will arise, free of any hang ups. He further crystallized this progressive idea with his own multi-racial and gender-bender backing group, soon to be dubbed The Revolution.
Prince adapted wholeheartedly the New Wave sound on
Dirty Mind, and his subsequent albums also included plenty of synthesizer-based tunes, ditching the traditional funk gear and sound. He eschewed a “Punk Funk” tag to his current musical direction, but he did
dress the part. He performed nearly in the nude with a new borderline spiky haircut, while attaching a “Rude Boy” pin to his coat, embracing the calling card of Ska-heads. He was also pleased to preach to
NME straight out of the punk manifesto in 1981:”All the groups in America seem to do just exactly the same as each other—which is to get on the radio… Obviously, the new wave thing has brought back a lot of that greaser reality. There are so many of those groups that there is just no way many of them can make it in those vast commercial terms. So they have no choice but to write what’s inside of them. I think it’s all getting better, actually.”
rince and James’s kinship was most apparent in their various side projects.
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Prince’s days as a warm up act were about to end permanently as he briefly opened for the Rolling Stones in 1981. Their fans were shocked by his persona, ushering him off the stage moments after hearing the electro-rockabilly “Jerk U Off”. Prince’s sexual tones became too intense even for his own band mates. Guitarist Dez dikkerson lobbied for “Head” to be removed from Prince’s live set since this rowdy tale of oral bliss embarrassed and offended him. Having failed to change Prince’s mind, dikkerson eventually quit.
At that time, Rick James suddenly went tropical. His vacation in the Caribbean Islands stirred him away from his usual antics.
Garden of Love, released in 1980, was a short and laid back suite he recorded while still under the influence of basking in the sun. Songs like “Island Lady” were drowned in the sounds of nature. Only its opening track, “Big Time”, was a typical self-celebratory party anthem. This change of pace wasn’t greeted with a warm welcome by the listening public. Humbled by its commercial failure, James went for broke, following it an offering in the complete opposite direction.
My OG's told me about Rick as a youngin' but damn! I swear my old bird (God rest her soul) was crying laughing for 10 minutes str8 when I first showed her that Chappelle Show episode...
mode when talking about Jody Watley, but he said she was heavy dyking back then.
