How Prince Opened Up To Richard Wilkins When The Cameras Stopped Rolling
The interview got off to a difficult start, with
Prince and his band members evading even the most simple questions. But what transpired next revealed a completely different side of the superstar singer’s personality, one that was sharply at odds with his enigmatic public persona.
I couldn’t tell you, but
I’ve been fortunate enough to see some crackers, and Prince and the
New Power Generation is right up there.
Back in
1995, he also played one of the worst shows I’ve ever witnessed.
It was in
Dublin and I was out on the town with my crew and my good mate, Aussie soccer player
Craig ‘
Skippy’
Johnston, who was living there. He’s a great lad and was deservedly a massive star. In
1986 he kicked the winning goal for
Liverpool against
Everton in the
FA Cup Final at the famous
Wembley Stadium, writing himself into football history in the process.
We’d gone to a club called
The Point that was out on a jetty on the
Liffey River, the water source for Guinness.
The English football team also happened to be there that night, and Craig was absolutely mobbed.
Without question he was the most popular guy in the room. He was also having a bit of fun with my cameraman,
Scott Morelli, who was sporting a little goatee at the time.
‘
Look, it’s the Aussie
Edge, it’s the Aussie Edge,’ Craig was yelling as we jostled through the crowd of
Irish concert-goers and Pommie footy stars. I must admit ‘Spotty’ does look a bit like the U2 guitarist. The night ended early in the morning with bacon and eggs at some little café owned by
Bono and the boys.
It was fortunate that Craig was there to save the night, because Prince was bloody awful. It was during the period when he was at major odds with his label
Warner Bros and was releasing albums like they were going out of style (which indeed they were) to fulfil his legal commitments, clear the decks, then relaunch his career on his own terms. It also appeared as if he was trying to alienate everyone.
The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, or ‘
Symbol’ as some called him, was in his hard-rock/heavy-duty funk period.
Played by a stripped-down band, every song seemed to sound the same and to go on for about twenty minutes, with lots of jamming and self-indulgent solos.
The set was long and it was boring. He didn’t even play any of the hits. The tour was billed ‘
The Ultimate Live Experience’, which meant that someone on the team was pissing himself with laughter.
It was totally different the first time I saw him play, back in
April 1992 at the
Sydney Entertainment Centre during the
Diamonds and Pearls Tour. That time round the staging was incredible, the sound was awesome, and the lighting moody and sexy. In fact the show had been going for four or five songs before we even got a proper look at the little master. There were loads of chains hanging down, surrounding him, along with very low lighting.
Everyone was straining to get a glimpse of the super-mysterious pop star. When he did finally burst into the limelight, he leaped onto the grand piano, which had magically appeared smack-bang in the middle of the stage, to the roar of the crowd. He was wearing a yellow suit with matching high-heeled shoes, wielding his distinctive yellow guitar, and was instantly hit by about a dozen follow spots. It was such a brilliant, thrilling, exciting moment with perfect timing.
Prince has a reputation for being distinctly weird, or at least unique, with a veil of secrecy enveloping him and his creative hub,
Paisley Park Studios in
Minneapolis. He is also very short—not that there’s anything wrong with that. The official word is that he’s 5’ 2” (157 cm), but perhaps that’s in his stilettos. Or perhaps he just appeared shorter when I finally got to look at him from my perspective—6’ 3” (190 cm) with hair and heels!.