We saw Prince live on Saturday, and it was amazing. The air? Electric. Some thoughts:
- Prince is fifty-five years old. FIFTY-FIVE! He looks exactly the same as he did in the eighties, on a cardboard album cover, giving you sultry eyes. Black don’t crack, man. Also, Prince don’t crack because he’s just not of this world.
- I’m not a fan of “funk,” in that it’s not a genre I seek out. My lack of interest and knowledge self-perpetuates: Since I don’t actively listen to it, I’m very ignorant about the nuances of what to listen for. BUT. After Prince. Well. Now I get it. Seeing funk live is an entirely different experience than listening to its digital bastard child. I don’t even think it would sound better “on vinyl.” There is so much more to enjoy with horns blaring, bands dancing, and acoustics amplifying in-person.
- Some artists put a lot of “effort” into their performances, making whatever they do look difficult for show and to ultimately make you appreciate them more. Straining while playing the guitar, scrunching up their faces while they belt. Prince is above such tricks. Prince does not succumb to such gimmickry. When Prince plays guitar, his fingers just glide, like silk, like butter. No effort. He sings, dances, plays everything under the sun, and does it ten times better than you.
- Prince does whatever the fuck he wants, and also does not play the shitty smartphone recording game. We were warned no less than four times that cell phone use (and any recording devices, period) was banned. The most eighties thing about this show was the complete lack of phones.
- Prince’s band, 3rd Eye Girl, is a trio of unreal real-life Barbies. Where did he find such sirens?
- I am obsessed with the opening act. Instead of blasting Prince every day, I’ve been playing Liv Warfield on shuffle-repeat ever since. Girl can SANG, and her band fucking rocks. I love bands that dance, even though I cannot comprehend how one dances choreography while simultaneously blowing into a brass instrument. I can’t even sing while playing guitar. Her blues-rock really fills the house to reach the farthest of the rafters. She’s like a more rock Whitney or Mary J Blige. If anything, her voice is held back by produced recordings. Listening to her tracks on Spotify is not nearly as powerful as hearing her live, for many of the same reasons that I never “got funk” before. She is a powerhouse, and you need to see her perform in a beautiful house like the Fox. I highly suspect she was a sprinter in her past life (confirmed by Wikipedia in Dutch), because her thighs could crush a man’s skull. I just need someone to hip the New Power Generation to the myriad talented graphic designers out there because Liv’s creative leaves something to be desired. But still, “Why Do You Lie,” “Don’t Say Much,” and “The Unexpected” rock my socks. Prince wouldn’t just produce any ol’ singer, you know.
- I’ve never been in such a sold-out crowd. We were standing chest-to-back, shoulder-to-shoulder with a packed Fox Theater. I was really concerned for the cocktail waitress, really annoyed by the woman who left her jacket on the floor, and really grateful nobody farted.
- I want a black leather jacket with foot-long fringe now.
But how did you get the tickets?
I’m not even a huge Prince fan, but when you get the chance to see a legend, you just know you have to go. It was Wednesday night, Bill and I had just finished catching up on Nashville, and he got an email from Another Planet Entertainment that Prince was playing a secret show the coming Saturday.
Problem: He opened this email a full eight minutes after its sending, which we both knew pretty much meant it was sold out.
But what are smartphones for if not the ability to keep hitting “Reload” on a ticket site while you go about changing into your pajamas? A couple of taps later, and Bill got the message: Tickets were available!
He scored two, we got excited, and then I sat on my hands for the rest of the week counting down to Saturday.
Lesson: Sign up for event emails, because you never know.
“I’m so jealous! I want to see Prince!”
If you live in San Francisco, 3rd Eye Girl is dropping hints that they’re playing the Fillmore next:
Tomorrow (Wednesday) is the only blank night on the Fillmore’s calendar.
They tweeted about the Fox show before, but removed it after the performance. Such stealthy foxes!
Additional Lesson: Follow bands on Twitter in the hopes that they’ll drop secret show bombs in one hundred forty characters or less.
3rd Eye Girl just removed its Fillmore riddle and tweeted a trailer for San Francisco-based charity, Tipping Point:
Ticket Master/LiveNation now lists an untitled “Private Event” as kicking off at 7:30. A little birdy tells me each ticket is $200 a pop.
The full price range is, drumroll, please: $199-$2,500!
…Let’s hope this really is for charity.
A friend at Tipping Point confirmed that all proceeds go to charity for this show. Prince for charity! I’m sure it’ll be amazing.