When Prince Turned Minnesota Purple

Released: June 25, 1984

In 1984, while everyone else was worried about Big Brother watching them, Prince was busy creating an album so monumentally sexy that it made George Orwell’s dystopian predictions seem quaint by comparison. “Purple Rain” isn’t just an album—it’s what happens when unstoppable ambition meets unlimited talent and a seemingly unlimited collection of ruffled shirts.

The album kicks off with “Let’s Go Crazy,” which begins with what sounds like a funeral sermon and ends up being the most energetic eulogy in history. It’s the only church service that transitions into a guitar solo so explosive it probably violated several noise ordinances. The song serves as both a mission statement and a warning: buckle up, this isn’t going to be your typical pop record.

“Take Me With U” follows, featuring Apollonia in a duet that makes you believe in love, even if that love involves matching motorcycle outfits. It’s the kind of song that makes you want to hop on a Purple Rain-era Honda and ride off into the Minneapolis sunset, preferably while wearing at least three different types of lace.

Then there’s “The Beautiful Ones,” where Prince manages to make vocal cord shredding sound like an art form. The song builds from a gentle falsetto to a scream that probably had insurance adjusters checking nearby buildings for structural damage. It’s a master class in dynamics, desire, and how to make synthesizers sound like they’re having emotional breakdowns.

“Computer Blue” starts with the immortal lines “Wendy? Yes Lisa. Is the water warm enough? Yes Lisa.” Which either means something deeply profound or proves that Prince could make literally anything sound cool. The song then launches into a technological funk workout that makes most prog rock bands sound like they’re playing with Fisher-Price instruments.

“Darling Nikki” was so scandalous it made Tipper Gore create the Parents Music Resource Center, which is honestly a better endorsement than any review could provide. It’s the kind of song that makes you understand why some people thought rock music was Satan’s doing, and also why Satan might have pretty good taste in music.

The album’s second half opens with “When Doves Cry,” a song that rewrote the rules of pop music by removing the bass line, which in 1984 was like removing the wheels from a car and somehow making it run better. It’s funk denial at its finest, creating a new genre that nobody has quite figured out how to replicate because, well, they’re not Prince.

“I Would Die 4 U” is either a love song, a messianic declaration, or both. Only Prince could make spiritual ambiguity this danceable. The track flows seamlessly into “Baby I’m A Star,” which isn’t so much a statement as it is a fact being reported to the universe. It’s Prince at his most confident, which is saying something for a man who regularly wore high heels on stage and made them look completely reasonable.

Finally, there’s “Purple Rain,” a power ballad so perfect it makes other power ballads want to quit and become accountants. It’s gospel, rock, soul, and funk all having a religious experience at the same time. The guitar solo alone should have its own wing in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It’s the sound of someone reaching musical nirvana while simultaneously inventing a new color.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (5/5 stars)

Final Thoughts: “Purple Rain” is what happens when an artist operating at the peak of their powers decides to show off every single thing they can do in the span of nine songs. Its only flaw might be that it raised the bar so high that Prince had to spend the rest of his career competing with himself, which he somehow managed to do successfully for three more decades. The album is a masterpiece of ambition, execution, and sheer audacity. It’s the sound of someone who knows they’re the coolest person in the room, even if that room is the entire world. If aliens ever land and ask what Earth music was like, just play them “Purple Rain.” Though you might want to skip “Darling Nikki” depending on their cultural sensitivities. Then again, if they can’t handle Prince at his most provocative, do we really want to make first contact?