On Purple Rain
A story about Prince and love in all its forms.
Hello friends,
Today we relaunch our OneTrackMinds guest post series, where we ask guest writers to tell us a story about one song that has changed their life. It’s just like our live show, or our podcast, but it’s a newsletter. You’ll get the gist pretty quickly.
Before we dive in a quick reminder that our live show returns to Kings Place tomorrow night (Thursday 19th September) for the first in our new monthly series. Featuring stories from Katherine Parkinson, Doug Naylor, Dorian Lynskey, Rachel Fairburn and Shaun Keaveny. It’s going to be a very special night. Don’t miss it.
Today’s guest writer is Thea Wood, author of the Herizon Music newsletter. Over to Thea…
There is one song that stands out as the one that changed my life. Not because of its impact at a particular moment, but because my heart associates it with the most impactful loves of my life (excluding blood relatives) since its 1984 release.
The song? Purple Rain by Prince.
Julie. Warner Middle School counselor, Mr. Gorman, brought Julie and me together after discovering that we faced the same home life struggles. By 1984, we were best friends listening to Purple Rain on the radio as we lined our eyes and curled, teased, and sprayed our hair beyond reason before school dances and weekend parties. (Don’t judge, it was the ‘80s in Michigan!) Neither of us remember seeing the movie in the theater together, but odds are we did. Since then, Julie and I have celebrated and mourned life-changing moments together— graduations, weddings, children’s births, loved ones’ deaths, and more. We’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve fought, we’ve made up, we’ve grown old(er) together. She has spent a lifetime guiding me through the purple rain and is the most enduring love of my life.
Richard, The First. Julie and I were vacationing in Ogunquit, Maine in 1987 when I locked eyes with Richard from Connecticut. He was shy, but his friends were not and invited us to hang out at their place to play drinking games and listen to music. (Don’t judge, it was the ‘80s, and I was on vacation!) I’m an Olympic-level quarters player and stupidly showed my affection by picking Richard to drink until it got ugly. In spite of the attempted poisoning, he sought me out the next day and instantly became my summer love. My first love, truth be told. I have a vivid memory of us laying on a hotel room floor watching the premier airing of Purple Rain on TV while partying teens stumbled in and out, over and around us. Like so many long-distance relationships, life took us in different directions. It was time to reach out for something new.
Scott. After college graduation, I moved to the Washington DC / Northern Virginia area and became a music journalist. That’s where I met Scott, the charismatic lead singer and guitarist for a local funk-rock band. His music was influenced by Prince and he could play most, if not all, of his songs. Our love looked like a life-long adventure until Scott was shockingly diagnosed with lymphoma at age 23. I was the first person he called about his diagnosis. Driving him home from the hospital to tell his parents (he was an only child) is one of the most gut-wrenching memories of my life. I chauffeured him to and from chemo appointments, carried the treatments’ resulting “toxic waste” to bins, and held him at night while his fingernails turned black and his curly black hair turned thin. I listened to Purple Rain a lot during that dark time. Scott couldn’t find a way to mentally handle his work, his band, his family, and his girlfriend along with the cancer. He broke up with me before his treatments ended. My heart split wide open; the anguish beyond comprehension. I now know that he never meant to cause me any sorrow or pain. He just needed to handle his own first so he could survive. Fortunately, he did survive and is thriving. I wish him the best.
Richard, The Second and Last. My career moved me to Austin, TX in 1998. There, I found a neighborhood watering hole called Deep Eddy Cabaret. Cheap beer, a killer jukebox, and close enough to walk safely home. One of the regulars was Ricardo (a childhood nickname Richard couldn’t shake) who was dating the head bartender. I was dating another regular. The staff and regulars got to know each other well in this small but charismatic dive bar. One thing I knew: Ricardo needed to take a happy pill. What he knew of me: Thea must have an “off” button somewhere. About three years after meeting, we found ourselves both single and sitting next to each other on barstools at the counter. For the first time, we had an actual conversation. Discovering we were both avid music fans and Deadheads, the inevitable “who’s the best” questions arose. When the question “who is the most underrated guitarist” came up, we simultaneously stated “Prince” in true jinx fashion. Ricardo and I started dating even though I only wanted to be some kind of friend. Our first concert road trip was Prince at The Palace in Auburn Hills right after the Detroit Pistons won the 2004 championship. It was my first Prince concert. He played 33 songs with the finale being Purple Rain. The electricity in the air and in our hearts was palpable. Ricardo and I got married the next year, and our son was born in 2007.
Our household mourned Prince's tragic ending in 2016. I was thrilled to interview his audio engineer and Berklee College of Music professor Susan Rogers1 in 2019. It felt cathartic to learn more about the man from her personal perspective.
He seemed a thoughtful and polite, yet maniacally-driven genius. Prince actively worked with and promoted talented women in an industry where they are so easily dismissed by others. Prince first courted Stevie Nicks to write the lyrics for Purple Rain, originally intending it to be a country song. Nicks claimed the 10-minute instrumental scared her and passed. Prince then turned to bandmates Wendy and Lisa. Their marathon collaboration turned it into the song you hear today: a rock symphony with a thunderous guitar solo like none other.
Prince was one of a kind. But I hope there’s someone just as passionate out there who delivers life-changing songs for you and the next revolution.
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Thea Wood is an author, public speaker, podcast host and a member of the Recording Academy. She writes the Herizon Music Newsletter, and hosts the Herizon Music Podcast and is the Programming Director of TelePresent.
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Susan Rogers’s book This Is What It Sounds Like was published last year, and it’s essential reading. You can get a copy from the OneTrackMinds bookshop.
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Prince was, indeed, one of a kind. An insanely talented songwriter and multi-instrumentalist. Mind-blowingly phenomenal at everything he did. One of the most tragically untimely losses to the world of music ever. Thankfully, he was so prolific we’re left with an enormous body of work to appreciate forever. Great piece, Thea!
This song would definitely be in my top favorites. I love these personal stories and connections! This was such a fantastic read!!