Under the Influence

Of all of the artists-whether it is film, literature, or music- I have been influenced by, it appears that the most influential of all has been Prince. Some readers may well shudder.

I first heard of him during a high school Health class when "Little Red Corvette" was brought up in regards to "... a pocket full of Trojans, some of the them used." It was considered scandalous that such an item would be mentioned in pop culture radio music. This was probably 1983, at the cusp of AIDS awareness, interestingly. Soon we'd all be thoroughly educated about Trojans and safe sex and yet 25 years later, it is still impossible to advertise the product on regular TV, and even on MTV it is a fairly veiled message.

Skip ahead to my first year of college, September 1984. I had the choice between going to a meet and greet at the Writer's Union or going to see Purple Rain at the local cinema (and I do mean, local cinema). These were days before you knew that if you didn't catch a movie in its theatrical release you would soon be able to watch it on video, so it was a hard choice. I opted to go to the Writer's Union meeting and ever since have gone back and forth on whether or not I made the right choice.

Yes: the movie had such an impact on me just on VHS that I tremble to think what would have happened if I had seen it on the widescreen.

No: Prince on widescreen! Instead I met people who really did not have that much of an impact on my life.

One thing I should note about the movie is that I really, really wanted boots like Prince wears in several scenes (actually, I still do) and I wanted my figure to look like Apollonia's. I was also impressed with how Prince had this band and even though he was eccentric, he still was in charge and--this is crucial- people were affected deeply by his words. He could dress differently and not act like everyone else but because of the art he could harness, people not only put up with it but gave him lots of praise and slack.

The soundtrack-even before I saw the movie- became the back drop to the next few years of my life. Certain songs just embedded themselves in my head because they resonated so much with me- then and now. That is something amazing when a song is still relevant to you 25+ years later in new and changing ways.

"Let's Go Crazy" will always be the true anthem of imminent, joyful partying of any sort. It is one of the songs on my list of "Songs Which are Impossible to be Played Too Loudly."

"The Beautiful Ones" is the most resonant song, possibly ever, to me. The lyrics may be a little confusing at times but is it 98% pure emotion: who hasn't want to ask their Beloved: "don't make me waste my my time, don’t make me lose my my mind, " or "don't my kisses please you right?" when you feel the other's interest is elsewhere? When he demands that she tell him if she wants him or someone else, you can feel right down in your gut the torment of not knowing. And the sad part is, half the time there is so much angst is because the Beloved doesn't know who s/he wants.

When he begs," Tell me baby, do you want me? I gotta know, do you want me..." He is putting himself out there in a way only the truly in love and truly desperate can ask. If you have the slightest doubt about how the other person feels, you hardly ever bring all of your emotions and slap them down on the table in no uncertain terms unless you feel that there is nothing left to lose--even your pride. Add in an artistic temperament and you might have an incredibly powerful work, be it song, book, sculpture or painting.

Once that emotional gauntlet has been thrown, there is no going back. Not only are you putting your feelings out there (which is hard enough) but you are putting your talent out there. It is one thing to reject a person romantically, but if they are artistic, the stakes are exponentially higher. It is not "merely" personal now- you have rejected their art and their talent, which to most writers and musicians is their "true" self. Put it another way- if an artist gives you a song or a story, especially as a declaration of love or a peace offering, you are then in the rough position of not only rejecting them but that which is is precious to them and what makes them who they truly are.

In the movie, after Prince sings this to Apollonia (who has arrived at the club with his romantic rival), he is swept up by emotion and leaves the stage and paces about trying to work off the emotion. She has been so affected by this performance that she leaves the rival and waits for him in the shadows. Imagine the anguish which would have occurred if he had looked out over the audience while pouring his soul out and she looked bored and was picking at her cuticles. He might never have left his basement again. Or, worse, he might have felt that in the instance when he most needed his art, it failed him. For an artist there is perhaps no worse feeling. You have failed at the most basic level.

In the song, after he has laid out he strongly he wants her and his uncertainty that she feels the same way, he then sets to prove himself and his intentions: "Listen, I might not know where I'm going, I might have any idea, but one thing's...for certain, I know what I want and it's to please you ..." Which beats all to hell "I don't know much but I know I love you."

Another reason the song is so significant to me, and I only recognized this days ago, was that just as Prince pours his heart and soul out via his art, so have I. And nearly every significant relationship I have had, has had some serious triangulation in it. In the movie the result of the song and most of the songs directly specifically the Beloved is that she is pierced by his words and music and realizes her true feelings. In my life I became accustomed to writing something, showing it to the intended reader, and it had its desired effect. The one time this failed to happen I was stunned and puzzled. For a long time.

"Darling Nikki" had a big effect on me, but perhaps this is not the best place to describe it other than to say that I ended up thinking that Nikki was one cool chick to get her guy all worked up like that.

It is also important that here it is the woman who has basically made the booty call and left her number and him lying there all dazed and confused. That was an extremely empowering message for an 18 year old to hear.

The other two Prince songs which had a huge effect on me are generally considered "Prince " songs, as they are famous for being performed by others. But once you are into Prince, you know his songs once you hear them.

"Nothing Compares 2 U," is one of the most wrenching (and therefore authentic, to me) songs about loss of a loved one. Simply put- and this is true in good times too- nothing compares to the person you love. When things are good, this is sweet and awesome. When things go south, it is the worst pain. "Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling/tell me baby, where did I go wrong?"

There's always the feeling that somehow it could have been prevented- even if it isn't true. You want to believe that things could have turned out differently. I have yet to find a recording by Prince of this song that I like. The thing is, even after you consciously stop comparing your lost love one, your heart still keeps doing it anyway.

Losing the love of someone is like suddenly being required to get by on half as much air or blood. You are constantly gasping for what you lack and remembering what it was like before. You would do anything to return to how it was and to the other person, but you are barred just as surely as if an iron gate as high as the moon stood there. "Tell me baby, where did I go wrong?" is the same type of pleading we hear in "The Beautiful Ones."

Last is one of the most amazing songs ever written: "I Can't Make You Love Me," which is light years away from "The Beautiful Ones" in some ways, but still exhibits the same depth of feeling, even if it is a despairing resignation. It has no easy answers. The situation is one all too common- being with someone who feels less than what you feel:

"Turn down the light, Turn down the bed..lay here with me. Tell me no lies,just hold me close...Here in the dark, in these final hours I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power, but you won't. You can't make your heart feel something it won't."

The theme is an ancient one but always being discovered anew: The heart has its reasons which know nothing of reasons, or to quote Woody Allen: "The heart wants what is wants." We don't always love those whom we should, or want to. Here there is a modern take. The narrator knows her love is unrequited but she is making the most of it. If only we could all truly understand "You can't make your heart feel something it won't" without having to learn it!


It raises another question, the ever-popular "all or nothing" issue. "So I won't see/the love you don't feel/when you're holding me." Is it better to spend what time one can with one's beloved just for the sake of being in their presence or to cut oneself off? Hearing this song- much more understated yet as powerful as the others, about having the wisdom to realize and accept it and making choices--rips at your heart just as much when one screams and cries in "Beautiful Ones."

"I Can't Make You Love me" provides so much solace to those who are not blessed to be in a perfect relationship with their beloved, letting them know others have gone through it too. So many times you feel as if "If I only were different in this way or if I did this" things would be different. And how many of us have truly wanted to love someone- had all the right reasons-- but it just didn't happen?

Art is moving people with what you are saying and how you are getting the message across. Maybe the message is not always received or accepted by the person the artist intends it for but that is the exciting/sucky thing about having a talent: it's not all about you. Hard as it is to believe.

Postscript: I did end up seeing "Purple Rain," on VHS three years later. Strange side note: "I Can't Make U Love Me" turns up playing in public fairly often and there is an odd thing wherein when I hear it playing (e.g. in a restaurant) something bad usually happens. It happened again just a few months ago.