Scorpeze explains it all…

Robin Thicke – The Evolution of Robin Thicke (2006):

“…when you ask yourself/why me?/and why not me?…”

Robin Thicke’s first album Cherry Blues Skies aka A Beautiful World (2003) was a textbook example of trying too hard to please. Too often artists spread themselves thin by trying to appeal to as many audiences as possible. Thicke definitely had potential. His songs were charming, yet a tad immature. His sense of humor, while refreshing, was challenging to translate. His subject matter was definitely original. He wrote songs about being a bum (Be Alright), being a kept man (Suga Mama), and being in a bank robbery (Oh, Shooter-based on a real experience). It didnt help that he looked like what most people think Jesus looked like complete with long hair and a full beard.

Needless to say, he was a tough sell. The album was all over the placed. He tried to do soul, latin, rock, etc. with varying degrees of success. His lyrics were a sore spot–often times clumsy and silly.

When Thicke re-surfaced 3 years later, he had undergone a makeover. Gone were the flowing locks and messenger bag. The new Robin Thicke was clean shaven with a neat haircut, dressed in blazers, sweater vests, and crisp button down shirts. He was signed to The Neptunes vanity label, Star Trak. The first single was the boring Prince rip-off Wanna Love You, Girl replete with super glossy Hype Williams video. The song was produced and co-written by Pharrell–unintentionally revealing the fact that the super producer was working on fumes. The lyrics were still cringe worthy in their attempts to be clever and cute. I had not a lot of hope for the young man.

One day, on a whim, I downloaded (shut up) the advance copy of his new album. It was called The Evolution Of Robin Thicke. How apt that title would end up being. Aside from the lousy first single, the rest of the album was produced by Thicke and his partner, Pro J. What I found was a vast improvement on his previous effort.

The album I heard was sparsely produced. Most of the songs were backed by minimal live instrumentation–just piano, bass, drums and guitar. Some songs were just piano and vocals.

The composition had grown by leaps and bounds, and the ballads stood out the most. Using gorgeous chords and progressions, gone was the goofy cockiness of the last album. Here, we had a young man singing earnestly about his insecurities. Thicke sang about needing love in his life and being strengthened by the love he has received. He sang about growing up and being responsible. Some songs still contained the old Thicke persona (High School Man, Threesome) but those songs were washed away by moving odes like Superman, U Center Me, and Spend the Night With Me.

I guess I wasnt the only one downloading. When the album was released, most of the songs from the advance were pulled from the album and replaced with new and better ones. The album received a huge shot in the arm with the release of the second single, Lost Without U. A hushed, faux-samba that lit up the airwaves, Lost Without U was inescapable during the early months of 2007.

Again, the ballads were the standouts, but the new uptempo cuts were an improvement on the advance. On the subtly funky Ask Myself, Thicke challenges himself to rise to the responsibility of taking care of others in his life and leaving childish things behind. Even though it fits more in the textbook modern R&B mold, his duet with Lil Wayne called All Night Long is elevated by Thicke’s impassioned, pleading faux Michael Jackson falsetto. While Lil Wayne dashes off run of the mill sex rhymes, Thicke’s parts speak of an aching passion that cant be contained. it’s not so much the lyrics, but the almost desperate tone to his vocals that signify something more beneath the surface.

Would That Make U Love Me? sees Thicke asking for acceptance and understanding from the world around him. Like that song, the unorthodox subject matter is still a hallmark of Thicke’s music. He sings about the battle against the temporary balm for insecurity drugs bring in Cocaine, where he employs a pained Marvin Gaye sounding falsetto. He talks about his fantasy life on Everything I Cant Have over a clever sample. The last 3 songs on the album form the heart of the album. 2 The Sky, Lonely World, and Angels speak about trying to find your place in a unfeeling world. These songs along with an earlier song, Can You Believe, are Thicke’s letter to people who are seeking some kind of emotional healing.

It is rare that a modern R&B album abandons The Cool Pose and lays bare the vulnerability and emotions inside that people rarely show. This album, while not perfect, was a bold and risky step forward. In other words, a true artistic evolution.

Prince – The Rainbow Children (2000):

“wanna get lost in the mellow mellow of my mind…”

Watching Prince’s downward artistic slide over the past 20 years is nightmare that music fans cant wake up from. There will always be bright spots in Prince’s modern output, but the crap far outweighs the gems. We wonder if he’s lost the muse to the point that we assume as much. This album challenges that notion.

This album could have been a pure disaster. In fact, most Prince fans regard this album as an afterthought. They shouldn’t.The Rainbow Children is easily Prince’s best album since the blindingly genius run of his first 10 years as an artist.

For 7 years beginning in 1993, Prince abandoned his birth name in favor of a unpronounceable glyph that combined the symbols for male and female. It was painful to watch his associates (read: employees) act like this was not strange at all. The rest of us were told that we could call him “The Artist Formerly Known As Prince” or “The Artist” for short.

In 2000, Prince reclaimed his name and revealed that it was just a highly annoying PR/business move (his publishing contract with former label Warner expired that year). During that time Prince met and became close to one of his musical heroes, Larry Graham. Graham impact on Prince was monumental. Graham is a devout Jehovah’s Witness and he successfully converted Prince to the religion.

In his first album as Prince after the Symbol years, The Rainbow Children is a based around the Purple One’s new spiritual outlook. The album opens with the 10 minute faux jazz epic title cut. The album is narrated by Prince throughout this song and in between the other songs using a drastically slowed down voice. There’s supposed to be a connecting fable in these molasses voiced ramblings somewhere. Points off for this. This bad start begs the listener to abandon the album early. If you hang on, then you will find Prince returning to his mid/late 80’s form.

Inspired by his new fantastically talented drummer, John Blackwell, Prince digs deep into the classic funk/soul/rock sound fans recognize from his glory days without retreading.

The songwriting is strong. The production is delightfully strange as it was on his 80’s records, chock full of weird ornaments that let us know that the Prince we knew and loved wasnt dead like we thought.

There’s a lot of Rhodes on this album, more than any other Prince album. Personally, I think this is his reaction to press proclaiming D’Angelo his heir after the release of the young artists’ sophomore album Voodoo earlier that year. Voodoo’s hit single was the unabashed Prince tribute, Untitled (How Does It Feel). The rest of the album is built on Blackwell’s drums, very funky bass, and P’s trademark rhythm guitars and searing lead guitar.

There are some misfires here. Wedding Feast is 54 seconds of absurdity. The Work, Pt 1 is another weak Vegas James Brown rip-off in the vein of Sexy MF (I truly cannot understand what people see in Sexy MF). Other than that, the rest of the album must be heard to be appreciated. The standouts are the George Duke styled fusion smoker Everywhere, the beautiful Santana-like instrumental The Sensual Everafter, The Erotic City-ish 1+1+1=3, and the sweeping (and too short) She Loves Me 4 Me.

The last 3 songs on the albums rank with some of the best music in P’s career. Family Name is a liquid funk track very reminiscent of Sly Stone’s funk era. The Everlasting Now is a tour de force of funk fueled by Blackwell’s incredible drumming. Last December is the kind of grand, anthemic Purple Rain kind of song that Prince had been trying to write unsuccessfully for years (previous attempts include Strays of The World and Gold). With Last December, he finally succeeds. These trio of songs will split your wig.

There is a ton of preachiness here as The Rainbow Children is intended to be a concept album/fable about the JW religion. Ignore that and enjoy the music. Prince has been preachy since early in his career, so fans should be well used to that by now. In many ways The Rainbow Children is the sequel to Lovesexy (1988), the last album of Prince’s classic period which was also a concept album about a spiritual awakening.

After an album as startlingly good as The Rainbow Children, one has to wonder what happened. Why was Prince hiding this kind of music during the 90’s and where has it gone since? I have a theory.

After scraping the heights of superstardom and artistic daring in the 80’s, Prince spent most of the 90’s wading through the underground after abandoning the spoils of a major label. After The Rainbow Children, Prince returned to the mainstream forefront with a pretty decent yet watered down album, Musicology, in 2004. It is my opinion that Prince’s gift is still alive and well, but he has chosen to cut the dope in favor of doing numbers in this musically retarded climate in order to maintain the acclaim and superstar treatment he is used to. The fact that he didnt promote this album very much at all leads me to believe that this album was made solely to get his artistic rocks off before marching back into the mainstream rat race.

After the pure wackness of Prince’s embarrassing last project, Lotusflower/MPLSound (2009), we can only hope that The Purple One finds his way back to his muse in the new decade.