Here’s a theory: every great mainstream pop artist if they follow their muse will become a cult artist. Brittany Spears stays true to her calling and she’ll be doing outsider art in 2070. This theory needs some work but holds true with Prince who spent a long time in middle age courting no one and releasing an album a year for whoever was listening. 2001 brought that whoever “The Rainbow Children”. It came after the Purple One turned Jehovah Witness and if you listen there’s some God and devil talk in there, but Prince’s sex/god/music/love preaching has been pretty consistent since the beginning, so it’s not that much of a switch. You’d have to be a real Prince scriptural expert to tell the difference between this musical utopia and the ecstasy of Paisley Park or the majesty of the New Power Soul. One of them has a lot of *ucking in it. That’s been removed from the psalm book for this service.

The album features a slowed down narrator like you hear at the beginning of 1999, but dropped down yet another octave. If he went any deeper only frost giants could hear him. I’m not sure what this narrator is talking about. It’s strange but I like it. On 1982’s “1999” we thought it was a cool sound accent to the synth funk pop, now it’s mixing with Miles Davis “Bitches Brew” style jazz on the title track. It’s probably missing something to be technically 2001 bonafide cool, but It struts out the weird whether the culture wants it or not. This title track song is a warning shot across your bow. It’s about as commercially inaccessible as you can get from a guy who made a hit for the Bangles. You want this album? This is not your momma’s Prince. Listen a little further down the 10 minute opener and hep jazzy women pop In like perfect backup singers from a Steely Dan album. They snake around the guitar licks. Where did this all come from? What genre is this? Some of these songs will straddle the line between jazz inspired and noodling, but you can’t say this 43 year old is out of ideas.

On “Muse to the Pharaoh” he takes it down to something a bit more R&B with vibes and biblical references. Anagrams and numerology show up next but this is a good groove. Would I wiggle my ass right into the kool-aid tent at the mass suicide if Prince told me to? No, Prince is not here 2 hurt U. He’s just like your trippy aunt who reads your aura. He’ll switch philosophies on the dime, but they’ll all take you to same place. Your daffy Aunt and Prince wish you peace, joy and fun. “Muse to the Pharaoh” is helping; it’s as smooth as Egyptian silk.

I should mention “The Rainbow Children” is a concept album about something. I don’t know what and that’s to it’s credit. The concept Is loose enough not to drag down the music (mostly). There are a couple of extended interstitials but the narrative stays simple in the songs. I don’t mind “rising up” with the Rainbow Children - I get the gist of the sentiment. The album’s narrator serves as a chapter marker between tracks and adds some purple scriptural overtones about “banished ones”, and reminding us that we need to be ready to “do the work”.

That last demand from the mysterious melting narrator kicks us into the first great jam on the album “The Work: Part 1.” Part 1 means you ain’t done. You’ll be doing more work later. If later is about funk, later is about three tracks down the album to find the bendy synth tickles of “1+1+1 is 3,” which is also a delight. Prince can make all the music by himself, but this is Prince with a band and it sounds great. I’d be happy to do the work if it means listening to the only man on the planet left who can play this kind of hardest work in showbiz James Brown inspired jam. Does anyone even know how to arrange horns like this anymore? Is this tradition dead or does no one want to put in the elbow grease? Prince essentially died from the hip pain of jumping around in those high heels to entertain us. What have we done in return?

Prince is more than a pop singer, he’s a fully realized creator, spinning out a whole alternate universe. You don’t get this kind of thing in the oeuvre of Don Henley (maybe I haven’t looked close enough?). Prince’s albums come with a prayer pamphlet, style tips, and a couple of pointers to help out the ladies. Has anyone ever followed this philosophy to the letter? Before Jehovah Prince, I if you escaped the VD, you’d at least have some chaffing. The point is you’re getting more than just some tunes. It’s a transportive experience, a liberation. The psychedelic spiritual narrative is part of the trip. The artificially manipulated audio of the narrator allows the organic, band of the gods to rise up in relief. Don’t worry too much about the “destruction of the digital garden”, I don’t know what he’s talking about either. Prince is always interested more in sound than words anyway. Don’t mistake me, you will be tested.

There are some weirdo indulgences like the long, computer voiced intro of “Family Name”. The computer asks us to “press our right hand on the scanner and clench our butt-cheeks” then the computer gives us some instructions about race and connecting on a higher plane. There’s also a long interstitial about getting something to eat. The difference between this and the snooze-concepts by 70s Moody Blues or Jethro Tull is that (1) “Rainbow Children” is enjoyably weird, and (2) you do actually absorb some vague positive vibes from it’s preaching; it’s not a complete crock. Prince doesn't forget to put a good song at the other end of the nonsense. The cryptic concept could sink this album if the music didn’t announce its meaning: rock, love, jam y’all. Call it what you will.

“Last December” is a moving closer in the tradition of fan favorite “Sometime it Snows in April,” but with more God. The song’s hushed beginnings shift into a large gospel prayer chorus that sings “in the name of the father/in the name of the son.” Most of Christian rock makes me yank the emergency break, but “Last December” is too sensual to worry me that the spirit will buzz kill the body. I’ll step up that statement to say that in the category of wacko-funk, I prefer Prince’s spiritual overtones to the fun but emotionally limited galactic overtones of Parliament/Funkadelic. For whatever reason, at this time in his life he went deeper spiritually. It was said he would knock on doors to “witness” in Minneapolis and really freak peoples minds out.

He also went deeper into the music: some of this is jazz, not just jazzy. Prince solves the middle-aged slump creatively, and became an accomplished cult artist, which is where anyone who truly follows their muse will have to log some time. Jesus was a cult leader at one time too. All this is to say that “The Rainbow Children” holds together. It doesn’t have huge standout singles, but it’s got funk, soul, jazz, r&b, gospel, pop, and “Hissing of the Summer Lawns“ era Joni Mitchell; plus some shredding guitar — it’s not God, it’s Prince. And he’s reinvigorated for anyone who’s still listening. The reason we were drawn to him in the first place is that he was searching for some higher state: new power soul, the revolution, the orgasm, the rainbow children. Pass the donation plate.

by Steve Collins