By Jenni Lou Roberts
for the Jungle Gazzette
The only thing that gives me hometown pride is Minnesota music and more specifically Prince.
Some of my favorite childhood memories are riding around in my mom’s friend’s Geo tracker top down with subwoofers for back seats blasting the Purple Rain album. I could feel it vibrating through every cell in my body. My mom’s friend Dana had a bleached blonde 80’s mullet and wore a black or white lace glove on one hand. She had low rise high heel black boots that had chains around one ankle. She always propped her left foot on the dashboard while driving. There was often one long earring dangling and I loved her. When I was riding around in the back of her car with the summer wind in my hair, I realized what it meant to be cool. It set a standard for the rest of my life.
Fast forward to November 1998 when I arrived in an adolescent treatment program in Chanhassen, MN. I was living in Chaska, and every weekday my mom drove me to New Connections Treatment Center. We would drive past Paisley Park, the famous recording studio of Prince who a few years prior had changed his name to the unpronounceable love symbol. That new year’s eve was unforgettable. I was 17 and newly sober. Surrounded by my new community of other mostly awkward sober people at a party in a church basement with a dj who was playing 1999 at top volume as the clock struck midnight.
Fast forward to Friday January 18, 2013
I was nearing the end of my 20’s. Tons of friends had seen him out on the town over the years. Even my mom had been at a club that he and his entourage had showed up at. Prince hit on my mom, but I’m ashamed to say, she was disgusted by him. I had never seen him play live until this day. The Purple One had surprised everyone by renting out the Dakota Jazz Club for a weekend of last minute shows to try out a new drummer for the 3rd Eye girls group. I couldn’t afford any of the tickets on my pilates salary because they were a couple hundred dollars. Then he shocked us all by extending the nights to a full week with different priced tickets. My most qualified Prince worshiping friend Jessica and I scored tickets for the final night. It was marketed as a DJ set for $75 a person. We got there early and waited in line forever to get inside as early as possible to claim a good spot. We danced to the Jamiroquai album on repeat for hours before he came on stage way after midnight. I took it as a form of schooling from his majesty to better appreciate Jamiroquai.
I had been holding my dance space mightily. By the time they took the stage I was exhausted. I surrendered to the insane crowd and allowed the incoming tide to push me past the indignant last few blocking me from the stage. It was a 25 foot diameter circle stage set one foot higher than the dancefloor surrounded by purple velvet ropes. I was shoved directly in front of a red Nord keyboard and that is the instrument Prince sat down at! It was so magical. He kept his gold rimmed hippy shades on all night but I could see how beautiful he was. He rocked a petite afro and wore all white. His band was all gorgeous women. He played his heart out and I know that if I go to shows everyday for the rest of my life, absolutely nothing compares to….you.
This is the last story and I could take out the first story for this:
The next night Prince opened Paisley Park for a free show. Jessica and I were early and determined to get in. They were shuttling people in from a lifetime fitness. parking lot nearby and we almost missed the first shuttle because it was full. The driver let us sit shotgun so we were among the first to get in the venue. I had never been to Paisley Park and had driven by it for years wondering what it was like inside. The excitement was tremendous. The huge stage was fitted with every instrament possible. When they took the stage it was all grown folks. Prince was the leader, but everyone was equally important. It was a continuous jam that moved in and out of songs. There was plenty of space to dance, unlike at the Dakota the night before. At one point there was 15 musicians on stage. We let loose and were dripping sweat. By the end it was the middle of the night and he invited everyone to stay for pancakes. Both of us had early morning work that day and we were a 45 drive from home. Somehow we both decided to go and get some sleep, having already had the most climactic 2 nights of our lives. I could not imagine a better experience, but looking back I have pancake regret. What a sexy M.F.
