I almost gave up on Prince. Admit it, you did too.
Too much finger-wagging didactism. Too many instances of shitting on his fans. Most importantly, too much mediocre music. It was as if Prince went from being the star attraction at the club, to owning the club, to being the old man at the club ragging on and on about how much better things were in his day, and stop cussing so much and pull up your got-dang pants, too!
Critics seem to be in a rush to gush all over Art Official Age, P’s latest album, with some calling it his best since 1987’s Sign ‘o The Times (a contender for my favorite album of all time.) They’re wrong, which is not to say that AOA isn’t a strong album. It’s easily P’s most consistent since 2004’s Musicology-the Grammy-winning album that kicked off his most recently successful comeback, and in a year with a lot of good albums but not very many great ones, it’s a highlight.
Art Official Age is a loose concept album, presumably about the loss of legit “human” connection in the internet age. It might be better enjoyed, though, if you banished any conceptual thoughts to the back of your mind and just enjoyed the music. The ballad-heavy album contains Prince’s best songwriting in ages. The lyrics aren’t revolutionary, but are (thankfully) mostly free of the ham-fisted (and often hypocritical) moralism that has infiltrated so much of his 21st century work and often leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
More than human connection, Prince seems to want to sing about love…er, sex…er, love. AOA is certainly P’s horniest album in ages (also probably his most explicitly R&B-sounding,) although his quest for nookie is less salacious than it was in his younger days. The previously released “Breakfast Can Wait” is a breezy delight, while “Breakdown” and “U Know,” while not up to standard of “Adore” or “Do Me, Baby” find the 56-year old musician getting his swerve on while not coming off sounding like a dirty old man. The wistful “This Could Be Us” is another highlight, finding that still amazingly supple voice swooping the way it did in his heyday. Art Official Age is totally contemporary without sounding like a slave to fashion, a tricky balancing act that only an artist like Prince could pull off.
The weird thing about Prince is that he’s a victim of ridiculously high and ridiculously low expectations simultaneously. While his recent work has been subpar by any reasonable music fan’s standards, it’s not fair to expect him to make another Dirty Mind, Purple Rain, Sign o’ The Times or even another Gold Experience. As appreciators of art, we’re generally not too quick to allow artists to evolve, change or age the same way the rest of us “civilians” do. The man is certainly not in his twenties anymore, so why should we expect music that sounds like it was made then? Hell, how many artists are still even remotely close to their artistic peaks after nearly four decades of creating art? Most folks, at this point, are running on fumes. For a solid half-decade prior to Art Official Age‘s release, I got the sneaking suspicion that Prince was, too. Thankfully, he’s proved me wrong.
Grade: B