The One
14th September 2007, 12:48 PM
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/graphics/bylines/chas.gifhttp://www.telegraph.co.uk/stylesheets/images/s.gifPrince at the O2: Let's go crazier sooner
Charles Spencer reviews concert 16
What a sly little fellow Prince is. At his best, he is one of the greatest showmen popular music has ever known. But how he loves to tease and provoke.
"So many hits, so little time," he ponders camply about half way through his two-hour set, having played hardly any of them apart from an opening Let's Go Crazy. He then proceeds to name a few - Raspberry Beret, Alphabet Street, Sign o' the Times - to squealing excitement from his fans, before launching into yet another number most of us have never heard of.
What Prince needs, but is never likely to accept, is a firm and disciplined director. This brave man would tell him that his fans deserve to hear the hits, properly played, that less time should be spent doodling away solo at an electronic keyboard, and that the performance should be compressed and refined so that it builds on its climaxes rather than repeatedly dissipating the energy level.
But, for all one's cavils, Prince's sheer star quality is irresistible. Backed by a splendidly tight and funky band (the near-possessed female drummer is a particular joy) and accompanied by fabulously sexy dancers and backing singers, he takes to the stage like a man who only truly lives, breathes and has his being in the limelight.
As small, slim and foxily sexy at 49 as he was in his twenties, he has the audience in the palm of his hand, whether whipping up great flurries of howling guitar notes à la Hendrix, dancing up a storm, or settling into those call-and-response funk grooves that can be so boring on disc but prove as addictive as crack cocaine in concert. At the end he did treat us to several hits, including the greatest of them all, Purple Rain, during which the whole packed house chanted along with him. Bliss.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2007/09/11/bmprince111.xml
Charles Spencer reviews concert 16
What a sly little fellow Prince is. At his best, he is one of the greatest showmen popular music has ever known. But how he loves to tease and provoke.
"So many hits, so little time," he ponders camply about half way through his two-hour set, having played hardly any of them apart from an opening Let's Go Crazy. He then proceeds to name a few - Raspberry Beret, Alphabet Street, Sign o' the Times - to squealing excitement from his fans, before launching into yet another number most of us have never heard of.
What Prince needs, but is never likely to accept, is a firm and disciplined director. This brave man would tell him that his fans deserve to hear the hits, properly played, that less time should be spent doodling away solo at an electronic keyboard, and that the performance should be compressed and refined so that it builds on its climaxes rather than repeatedly dissipating the energy level.
But, for all one's cavils, Prince's sheer star quality is irresistible. Backed by a splendidly tight and funky band (the near-possessed female drummer is a particular joy) and accompanied by fabulously sexy dancers and backing singers, he takes to the stage like a man who only truly lives, breathes and has his being in the limelight.
As small, slim and foxily sexy at 49 as he was in his twenties, he has the audience in the palm of his hand, whether whipping up great flurries of howling guitar notes à la Hendrix, dancing up a storm, or settling into those call-and-response funk grooves that can be so boring on disc but prove as addictive as crack cocaine in concert. At the end he did treat us to several hits, including the greatest of them all, Purple Rain, during which the whole packed house chanted along with him. Bliss.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2007/09/11/bmprince111.xml