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Rating: 1987 is a crucial year for Prince: The Revolution disband after a five-year streak of success, the first disputes with Warner Bros. arise (eventually climaxing in the tumultuous '90s) with the record label's refusal to release the triple "Crystal Ball", replaced by the seminal "Sign O' The Times". 1987 is also the year of the (unreleased) "Black Album", Prince of Minneapolis's response to the Beatles' "White Album".
A deep voice grumbling in the background (awaiting The Rainbow Children), brass instruments increasing, and his chest-voice singing (that "people, get ready…" is, to me, one of his best timbres): thus begins "Le Grind", hedonistic, raucous, decidedly raunchy (for example, the bit towards the end, when the choruses consist of pure panting), which seems to set the tone for the entire album, very dark and very funky. Indeed, the follow-up, "Cindy C.", follows its festive spirit, with our voice becoming acidic, shrill, while the music, still dominated by brass, momentarily yields to exotic rhythms, before the humorous back and forth between our artist and "his" Cindy (Cat's rap)… The two opening songs, I think, are each a condensed version of the Prince-sound, not just of that period: synthesized rhythms, infinite overlapping voices, continuous changes of rhythm and unexpected sound and stylistic solutions… The omnivorous and encyclopedic nature of Prince's music is not only manifested over the length of an entire album ("Sign O' The Times" teaches this), but often within a single song. "Dead On It" is a mockery, not even a benevolent one, of the dullest rap ("Negroes from Brooklyn play the bass pretty good/But the ones from Minneapolis play it like it oughta should" and again "See, the rapper's problem usually stem from being tone deaf/Pack the house then try 2 sing, there won't be no one left/On it") and "macho". In contrast, "When 2 R in Love" fits here like a fish out of water… wherever it is placed, however, it shines with its crystalline, serene, sensual ballad character under dimmed lights (never have obscenities been uttered with such candor). The jump to "Bob George" is abrupt, but not without dramatic effect: here Prince engages in one of his favorite activities: portraiture. He paints the portrait of this strange character with a few brush strokes, as he has done elsewhere (how many songs with proper names in his repertoire: Anna Stesia, Anne Christian, Dorothy Parker, etc), but here decisively veers towards parody, self-irony ("What's he do 4 a living? Manage rock stars?/ Who? Prince?/Ain't that a bitch!/That skinny motherfucker with the high voice?"), and staging, complete with gunfire and police sirens.
"Superfunkycalifragisexy" starts from the reinterpretation of a jingle/earworm (the Beatles did it already, but Prince demonstrates a passion for such things, here too, the examples are many, from America to Man in Uniform) to transform it into the backbone of a dense and dark, vaguely unsettling funky: as much as the first two songs are sunny, "Bob George" and this represent the true "dark" side of the Black Album, which however does not take further shape, but fades into the tangle of agitated voices preluding to the free exercise of the musicians in "2 Nigs United For A West Compton", where the spirit of controlled improvisation seems to return, dominating the early recordings of 94 East. After a few minutes (perhaps too many..) it returns to song form, with that delightful (in my opinion) concoction that is "Rockhard In a Funky Place": horns, propulsive rhythms for the abdomen, chorales, falsetto voices, guitar solos… everything is thrown into the cauldron of this piece that always seems on the verge of derailing, and yet, despite the heterogeneous group that inhabits it, brilliantly reaches its destination, the finale of a plea on the theme of love (à la Prince, of course, with disappointment over "lost erections"...), and the appointment for the next chapter of the saga…
A divertissement (the album was created for Sheila E.'s birthday party) written during a period of great inspiration that, while not reaching the peaks of Prince's production (the score would be 4.5 out of 5), manages to be fresh and at times innovative.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 Le Grind (06:44)
So, U found me
Good, I'm glad
This is Prince - the cool of cools
Some of U may not know this, but some of U may know
Some of U may not want 2 know
We are here 2 give U service
Please don't try 2 stop us 4 we come regardless
4 we are as strong as we are intelligent
So come vibe with us
Funk Bible - the New Testament
People get ready
Nouveau dance here
All the girls and all the boys get close
Have no fear (Have no fear)
We're gonna do the grind y'all, uh
Gotcha where I wantcha
And girly, it's go'n feel so good (So good)
Up and down, up and down on the beat y'all
Like a pony would, pony would
Le Grind
All the boys grab a girl
Get down on the floor, ooh
This funky beat's gonna show U
Gonna show U what your hips are made 4, uh (Nouveau)
Grind - come on (People)
People, it's much 2 late, it's much 2 late 2 be shy
London, what does Big Ben say?
"Time 2 do the grind"
No hear U, say - "Time 2 do the grind"
Le Grind
Baby, I gotcha where I wantcha now
I gotcha where I wantcha, wantcha
Ce soir, la chante all night long {"2night, sing it all night long"} {x2}
(Grind) {repeat in BG}
Hey pretty mama with the long hair
Is that your boyfriend? Huh, I don't care
Cuz I can do, mm, said I can do tricks he could never do
When I get naked, we'll see the real U (Aah!)
Am I gettin through?
I got U where I wantcha (Baby)
(Baby, baby)
Piano man, put it where it feel good
Grind {x4}
Le Grind, grind {x2}
(Woo!)
This party, this party is gonna last all night
When I give the cue - scream, alright?
Party (Party) {x2}
U say it - party (Party)
Clap your hands double time
All the boys say - "Yeah, yeah" (Yeah, yeah)
All the girls say - "Oh yeah" (Oh yeah)
Now all U others say - "Hell yeah" (Hell yeah)
2 sexy - grind, grind
(I guarantee)
Not yet Boni
Grind {x3}
Le Grind
Grind {x2}
Le Grind
People get ready
Nouveau dance here
Girls and boys get close
Have no fear (Grind)
Doin' the grind, doin' the grind in here
(Put it where it feels good)
(Hey yeah)
I do believe that we've truly touched on something nouveau
(La, la, la, la, la…)
Come on
Am I in the right place? (Don't move)
Woo! Are U sure, baby?
Are U sure I'm in the right place? (Don't move, don't move)
(Grind) {repeat}
Come on (Yeah)
Girl, put it where it feel good (Hey)
Not there, not there (What'd U say?)
Put it where it feels good
Slow down, uh
Slammin'!
Le Grind
Up and down, up and down feels so good
Up and down, up and down like a pony would
Up and down, up and down feels so good
Up and down, up and down like a pony would (Like a pony would)
Like a pony would (Like a pony would)
Like a pony would
Le Grind, uh
Slammin'!
Grind, grind
(Serve it up, Frankie) (Thank U)
Slammin'!
Le Grind
(2 fine – look at him)
Put it where it feel good
{Crowd noise}
Grind
People get ready
People - nouveau dance here
People get ready
Doin' the grind up in here, up in here (Grind, grind)
(People, get ready)
Grind, grind
(Frankie, honey, U know U look good)
Le Grind, grind
Grind!
02 Cindy C. (06:15)
Yeah!
This song's about a high-class model over in Paris, France (Oh Cindy C.)
If I get a camera, tell me will U dance? (Will U play with me?)
If I take a picture in the middle of the night (Oh Cindy C.)
Will U funk with me, sugar? (Will U funk with me?)
Say it's alright, come on (Say it, say it)
CHORUS:
(Cindy C., play with me)
(I will pay the usual fee)
Ah Cindy C. (What's it gonna be?)
Will U play with me? (What's it gonna be?)
(Cindy C., play with me)
(I will pay the usual fee)
Ah Cindy C. (What's it gonna be?)
I'll pay the fee (Cindy C.)
Super-fine heifer, U're so bloody vogue (Super fine)
I knew U would be trouble (trouble, trouble) from the word go (go, go)
I'll give U 7 sips of elderberry wine (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)
Maybe we'll unlock the secrets of your mind
CHORUS
The passion's in the mix (Serve it up, Sheila)
Drink it quick Cindy – shit!
Where'd U get that beauty mark?
Baby, U and I should be undressing
Don't all girls look the same?
They don't? Oh, what a shame
Cindy, Cindy - I'll pay the usual fee
What's the matter, don't U like me?
(Poppy, tell me what it's all about)
I'm talkin' 'bout a long crucial leg
(Cindy C. – listen 2 me)
Girl, if I have 2 beg
(She's so tired)
I'ma see U in your birthday suit 2night
(Look at me)
(She doesn't look as good as I do)
I'm sure U're quite intelligent
(U think she does, but think again)
(See? How 'bout that?) (Ha, ha, ha)
A whiz at math and all that shit
But I'm, I'm a tad more interested in flyin' your kite 2night
(Look at her, she can't even walk in those shoes)
(I can walk better than that)
(She can't even dance)
(I would put somethin' on her she ain't never seen before)
Baby, is that alright?
(Cindy C.)
Oh Cindy C., will U play with me?
I'll pay the usual fee
2 organ solos 2 go
Oh Cindy C. {repeat}
(Yeah)
Oh Cindy C., will U play with me?
Oh Cindy C., I will pay the fee
Ah Cindy C., will U play with me?
Ah Cindy C., I will pay the fee
Help me! (Ah shit)
Uh!
Excuse my savoir-faire
But baby, I'm dyin' 2 take U everywhere (Oh yeah?)
I wanna show U 2 my friends (Ha ha ha)
Because baby, U're the living end (Tell me now)
Baby, U have a debt worth winning
I can feel your ice is thinning
Like a frozen pond in spring (Woo)
Your furry melting thing awaits me (Ah)
Your furry melting thing awaits me and my 6-string
(Oh Cindy C., will U play with me?)
(Cindy, where are U?)
Come on Cindy (Oh my God)
Come on Cindy (Wait)
Don't U wanna play with me? (Uh yes, no, wait)
Don't U wanna play with me? (Yes)
What's the matter with me, Cindy? (Nothing)
Ahhh!
Shockadelia!
Oh Cindy C., won't U play with me?
{Rap from "Music Is The Key" by J.M. Silk}
Music is the key 2 set yourself free
From depression, drugs and increasing poverty
The key is 2 the lock, the lock is on the door
The door has a knob that U never turned before
The jack, use the jack, it opens up the lock
Cuz there's the key 2 unlock the body
Place it like that 2 open up the door
The door 2 the house 4 the people galore
The beat won't stop till the J.M. jocks
And he jacks the box till the party rocks
The clock tick-tocks and the place gets hot
And believe it or not, all the troubles U forgot
It's just that easy if U want it 2 be
4 all the fellas and the young ladies
So ease your mind and set yourself free
2 the mystifying music that we call Cindy C.
Oh Cindy C., won't U play with me?
Oh Cindy C.
© 1994 Controversy Music - ASCAP
03 Dead on It (04:37)
Riding in my Thunderbird on the freeway
I turned on my radio 2 hear some music play
I got a silly rapper talking silly shit instead
Sayin' the only good rapper is one that's dead on it
Uh, dead on it
Shall we go back? (Yeah!)
Let's go
Negroes from Brooklyn play the bass pretty good
But the ones from Minneapolis play it like it oughta should
A mackin' fro is better when U got a blue bonnet
And the 2 and fro is funky when the grease is dead on it
Funky dead on it
Uh, dead on it
Shall we go back?
Let's go
Funky dead on it, wow
See, the rapper's problem usually stem from being tone deaf
Pack the house then try 2 sing, there won't be no one left
On it
Parking lots on fire, brothers peelin' outta town
They say in disgust, been singin' their guts
Rappin' done let us down (down, down)
We got 2 be dead on it
Dead on it (Dead)
All the sisters like it when U lick 'em on the knees
Don't believe me? (No)
Do it once then stop
They'll be beggin' please, please, please (please, please, please)
Shoo bee doo wa, dead on it
What does that have 2 do with the funk? Nothing!
But who's payin' the bills?
If U don't wanna lick my knees
I'm sho' your mama will, uh
Cuz we, cuz we, cuz we dead on it
De..de..de..de..de..dead on it, on it
La, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
My bed's a coffin, Dracula ain't got shit on me
My nickname's Hellzapoppin', I'm badder than the wicked witch
I got a gold tooth cost more than your house
I got a diamond ring on 4 fingers, each one the size of a mouse
They dead, they dead on it
(Asses is crackin') {x2}
La, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la {x2}
Wait now, hang up, dial tone on the 3
U know, U know I'm busy, 2 scizzy
Can't nobody fuck with me!
Cuz I'm dead (on it, on it, on it) on it
(Shoo bee doo wa wa, dead on it)
Dead on it, on it, on it {fade out}
Dang, dang, dang, dang (Dead on it)
Shoo bee dang, dang, dang, dead on it
Dead, dead on it
05 Bob George (05:36)
[Gal]
Let me see ya dance
New coat, huh?
That's nice
Did u buy it?
Yeah, right
U seeing that rich motherfucker again
U know who I'm talking about
That slicked back paddy with all the gold in his mouth
Don't try to play me 4 yesterday's fool
Cuz I'll slap your ass into the middle of next week
I'm sorry baby, that's the rules
I pay the rent in this raggedy motherfucker
And all u do is suck up food and heat
Say what? Oh yeah?
4 someone who can't stand them T.V. dinners
U sure eat enought of them motherfuckers
Who bought u that diamond ring?
Yeah, right.
Since when did u have a job?
U seeing that rich motherfucker again
What's his name? Bob?
Bob, ain't that a bitch?
What's he do for a living?
Manage rock stars?
Who?
Prince?
Ain't that a bitch?
That skinny motherfucker with the high voice?
Please, who do I look like baby?
Yesterday's fool?
Don't u know I will kill u now?
U're fuckin' right.
I gotta gun
U think I don't?
Then what's this?
Oh, u quiet now
uh uh!
Little? Yeah, right. It might be little but it's loud
Yeah, right.
Uh uh!
Now put that suitcase down
And go in there
And put on that wig I bought U
No, No
No, No
The reddish-brown one
Bob, ain't that a bitch?
Oh
Gotcha
Got ya
Hey Bob, if u're out there, let me see u dance
U said u was funky
C'mon, c'mon
Ain't that a bitch?
Bob
(Come out with your hands up)
I'll kick your ass (This is your last warning)
Think I won't? (Oh no! The nigger's got a laser)
(Let's get the hell out of here)
Is Mr. George home?
Hello, Mr. George? {Note: The high pitched voice}
This is your conscience, motherfucker {that responds to his call, when}
Why don't u leave motherfuckers alone? {slowed down to about 2 rpm,says}
What's wrong with u? {"Operator, what city please?"}
Well, why can't we just dance?
Why can't we just dance?
No, fuck that, fuck that
I don't talk about u, I don't talk about u
Wit' yo' little almond-shaped head ass
Who the fuck do u think this is?
I'll kick your ass... twice
Bob, if u're out there
Let me see u dance
U said u were funky, c'mon
B-O-B, spell the shit backwards, what'd it say
Same motherfuckin' shit
Turn it out
Bob, ain't that a bitch?
06 Superfunkycalifragisexy (05:55)
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ...!
Ow!
If your body needs water, keep dancin'
Cuz U oughta keep the blood flowin' down 2 your feet
Brother Maurice'll be 'round in a minute
With a bucket filled in it - squirrel meat
The blood real good if U drink it real fast
But the aftertaste just lasts and lasts
So if U kiss somebody, U wanna party all night (Alright!)
Superfunkycalifragisexy, oh! Ahh! {x2}
See, if U do 2 much, your skin'll be sensitive 2 the touch
The first person that touch U, U wanna fuck
U take 'em 2 your crib and U tie 'em 2 a chair
And U make funny faces till they get real scared
Then U turn on the neon, then U play with yourself
Till U turn 'em on
Superfunkycalifragisexy, oh! Ahh! {x2}
This beat is on time
Refined and designed 2 make U do the do
Superfunkycalifragisexy
This chair goes round and round
I feel like a clown cuz I'm stripped down
It's all fun and games till the very next day
Till, damn, U don't remember my name
Maybe I'll see U next Thursday night
Maybe I won't, but that's alright
Cuz in my possession there's a signed confession that says
I was the best U'd ever had
2 bad (Ow!)
This beat is on time
Refined designed 2 make U do the do
Superfunkycalifragisexy, oh! Ahh! {x2}
Baby, keep the blood flowin' down 2 your feet
Brother Maurice'll be 'round in a minute
Superfunkycalifragisexy, uh
Superfunkycalifragisexy
This beat is on time
Refined and designed 2 make U do the do
Superfunkycalifragisexy
In 7 measures, I want somebody 2 scream
Superfunkycalifragisexy
If your body needs water, keep dancin'
Cuz U oughta keep the blood flowin' down 2 your feet
Brother Maurice'll be around in a minute
With a bucket filled in it - squirrel meat
If U can't beat 'em, join 'em
Slammin'!
This beat is on time
All of the time
So refined
Specially designed 2 make U do the do (2 make U do the do)
Super...
In 7 measures, I... I want somebody 2...
07 2 Nigs United 4 West Compton (07:01)
Serve it up, Frankie
This is precisely what I intend 2 do, honey
Honey, do U know I let Robert cut my hair this morning?
(Honey, look at this one here) (I'm lookin' Joe tryin' 2 see)
Oh girl, where'd U get those shoes?
U know he had me lookin' so bad (Honey, she's so free)
I'm so tired
These are "come-and-fuck-me" pumps (Who, Robert?)
Maurice thinks… (Mm, I think that's right, honey)
Go on up 2 her, say something
Maurice, what, what can I serve U? (U mean he's male?)
Baby, I swear 2 God if U don't kiss 'em
I'm gonna kick your super natural ass!
Frankie, play something, bitch! (Squirrel Meat!)
Uh! Don't try it!
Cat, what's happenin' babe? (Bitch, would U play something?)
Get outta my face! (Honey, it's not that type of party)
(Talk 2 me, talk 2 me – do U remember me?)
What cha mean? (Honey, he could teach U the answer 2 life)
Honey, U see these pumps? (Bitch!)
(Answer? Honey, U ain't gonna quit)
I wanna, I wanna… (Who U callin' bitch? Ho bitch!)
I want U 2 meet some friends of mine (Bitch!)
(Frankie, play somethin' – shit!)
(Who U callin' ho bitch? Black ho bitch!)
No, no - U'll like them
They're, they're musicians
2 nigs united 4 West Compton {x2}
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