“Merry Christmas, Houston. We love ya!” — Prince, 1999 Deluxe Live DVD Review
A twenty-four-year old’s vibrancy and utter love for his craft gleam front to back in a new live DVD.
Christmas came early for Prince fans in 2019. The thirtieth-anniversary edition of his 1999 album was released in remastered and super deluxe format. It spans months of never before released recordings, every single and b-side, and the remastered album itself. It also includes an audio CD of a concert stop in Detroit at the Masonic Hall five days after Thanksgiving. It was the second show that night, technically taking place on December 1 (billed as November 30 Show 2). A bonus DVD contains another date on the 1999 Tour in Houston at the Summit, two days before New Year’s Eve. Prince fans have salivated for a release like 1999 Super Deluxe. It’s still taking days on end to absorb all the unreleased music, and enjoy the updated sound on the album. The Houston concert video is the real gem among the stones. (He would return to Houston for another show four days later before wrapping up the first leg of the tour in Lake Charles.)
Prince had turned twenty-four in 1982, a few months before the 1999 Tour started. The month he turned twenty-four, June, saw him recording music almost daily, much of which is in 1999 Super Deluxe. Prince was a workhorse. The caveat is he never saw it as work. (If his lyrics gave any indication, fucking was more work than making music, as evidenced by songs like “Let’s Work,” an ode to good ol’ fornication.) Prince was created to make music. Touring and playing music for the masses was just as much a part of his fiber as running fresh tape at his Kiowa Trail home studio and recording a song. His exuberance in the studio is heard on songs like “D.M.S.R.” or “Lady Cab Driver,” as much as it’s seen on his face during the Houston show. I think about what I was doing at twenty-four years old, and then I consider Prince was standing as the single spot of attention at the Summit in Houston. It’s daunting to find such achievement so early in life, even in the 1980s.
The show opens with “Controversy,” the title track of 1999’s predecessor, as did the Controversy Tour, in an otherwise dark arena, against the backlit blinds to a thundering beat, with bass and drums in perfect sync. A light pulses from the front of drummer Bobby Z.’s kickdrum, almost like a lighthouse beacon, guiding onlookers to the inevitable. Prince is about to take control. The stage design was much the same as the previous tour, with the metallic Venetian blinds behind him and the band, almost giving a voyeuristic quality to the show. But who’s watching who? The blinds were simplistic but served a great purpose in aesthetic as well as reflecting light across the concert hall. There was a mystery about them, almost like Prince was hiding something, saving the reveal for later. Was it more music? His bedroom? A harem of women? A yard sale?
What is striking about the video is the pure joy on Prince’s face. One could chalk up his vigor to a relaxed holiday, good friends, or the sheer bliss one experiences when they maneuver in their gifts. Prince had many gifts, and performing was one of many in which he excelled. The stage seems lower and closer to the audience than that of 1984’s Purple Rain Tour, which felt disconnected and separated. Purple Rain was a bigger tour, and there appears to be a great divide between Prince and the audience. There was a party on stage, and then there was whatever the audience was doing. But in the 1999 Tour, Prince seems more engaged, raw yet well-rehearsed. He’s physically (and emotionally?) closer to the audience. It’s almost as though he’s just acting up at a party or being the class clown. It’s endearing even coming from a seasoned professional.
The scrappier aesthetic of Controversy was gone. This tour saw his hair hot-iron curled, his jackets and clothing more tailored, customized, put together. Dare I say, the Purple Rain Prince was peeking out from behind the curtain…er, blinds on the 1999 Tour. While 1999 is often noted as being a “chilly” record with synths and drum machines at the forefront, the warmth of his performance and audience interaction melts the coldest of assumptions. While Prince continued to refine his shows, Houston shows he wasn’t losing his personal touch with the audience. These aren’t contradictions. They’re facets of his personality and career.
While Prince was a polished musician early in his career, 1982 is a time of self-discovery and fine-tuning. His music reflects that, finding the ease of use in the Linn-1 drum machine, which quickened his recording times, and his continuing to push the production and lyrical envelope. His performance on stage seems to be tight and choreographed yet open to change in this Houston show. Prince appears to have no worries about anything while performing. His happiness of playing music shines.
The video is widescreen, and well saturated in color. Sometimes it’s grainy; other times, the horizontal lines are visible. Sometimes you can see a ghosting image overlay or the blur of a spotlight. I’m not sure of the tech specs behind it, nor care much about them. Sure, I could go down the rabbit hole of anamorphic-this or letterboxed-that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m watching Prince during some of his prime years. The slightly blurry, less-than-perfect video in sections like “interlude” — with keyboardist Lisa Coleman taking the audience from one section to another — is a shortcoming ignored without pause. Fans could easily get lost in the technical glitches of the video — the left channel being quieter or muddier than the right or whatever — and absolutely blind themselves to the treasure of the show in general. This is not a 1080 or 4K ultra high definition video. It’s not meant to be. It’s unreasonable to wish for something more than its essence. 1982 had its technological advancements in television, audio, music, and films, but it was still 1982. If the 1999 set is meant to capture Prince’s lifeblood and the reality of who he was, then the video being in fan’s hands is more than enough to satiate the need to hear and see everything possible. No, the video is not in pristine quality. It’s not a bootleg either. It’s perfect in its imperfections.
Prince once said he never wanted to release live CDs because they were too definitive. He didn’t want a performance to be solidified in such a way that the fans could never imagine more. While I can see his logic, it’s flawed. Maybe Prince still didn’t fully realize his reach and breadth as an artist, but it would be his live performances that defined him even more than his records. Almost more than fans rattling off their top ten list of Prince songs, it would be a more profound moment to list his top ten live performances. Would it be Houston 1981 or 1982? What about the 1987 aftershow at The Hague; or February 14, 1994, at Paisley Park? How about the Dortmund Lovesexy show? Mill City? Montreux?
“1999” always sounds the same on record, but in a live show, anything could happen. I found myself surprised that Prince seemed to find arrangements he liked and often used on the Controversy, 1999, and Purple Rain tours, with songs like “1999.” It highlights, again, his growth as an artist and arranger who could take his own songs and weave them into something more special for a concert. These shows aren’t pure fan-only entertainment. They’re essential materials that support the canon’s assessed longevity, marketability and puts history in context. Prince is at his most Prince-like at moments like the end of “Automatic,” standing on top of risers while Dez Dickerson wails away in a guitar solo, all before Prince finally jumps to the main stage and ends the song. Prince embodies rock and roll, funk, and anything else he damn well wants to during the show.
Instead of a grand use of acrobatics and theatrics, Prince delivers a straight-ahead performance of “International Lover”’s first half, before exchanging his vocal gymnastics with physical ones. He toys with the audience, disrobing and mounting a bed against the red-lit blinds. In silhouette, he simulates his long-stroke. We can only assume it’s factually accurate. It’s reasonable to think Madonna saw Prince’s sexual writhing and took a note for her performance of “Like A Virgin” on the Blond Ambition Tour. Her performance raised more than a few conservative eyebrows in 1990. Prince bringing his own form of bawdy sexuality and fifth-gear machismo in the middle of Reagan’s first term as one of the most conservative leaders of the free world should not be overlooked. The weigh of such moments feels heavier, considering for every person who owed a copy of 1999, there was another who had an “I Love Jesus” bumper sticker on their Cutlass Supreme.
“International Lover” was intended for The Time. On the super deluxe, there’s another version with Prince on piano and Morris on drums. Prince laughs at his own male quasi-vibrato, “please remain awake until the aircraft as come to a complete stop,” realizing the absurdity of the lyric. The contrast of the official version highlights its unapologetic swagger and solidifies Prince’s right to record it first… and only. Houston sees Prince as playful, sexual, erotic, and quite willing to find and flirt with the edge. One can’t help but recognize the taunting just a few lines into the song. “Tell me, am I qualified?” Indeed, he is.
In “1999,” he says, “Merry Christmas, Houston. We love ya! Alright?” The sincerity and love in Prince’s face is the brightest thing in the whole video.
Note: Since Prince would often change a show on a whim, the concert CD from Detroit has noticeable omissions and differences from the Houston show DVD. “D.M.S.R.” has been moved to an encore in Detroit (following “1999”), but in Houston, it’s earlier in the show. Houston also doesn’t get “Little Red Corvette,” or “Uptown” but is treated to “Lady Cab Driver,” and an encore of “Head.” And who wouldn’t want more head?
Also by Ernest Sewell:
Ernest Sewell was born & raised in Oklahoma. After living across the U.S. in places like Philadelphia, Los Angeles, and Minneapolis, he’s settled in upstate New York for the past twenty years. He’s authored and published two books and is currently working on a new horror novel due in 2020. He shares his home with a friend, three cats, and his vinyl collection, all of whom have the same level of love from him. When he’s not causing an uproar on Prince forums or social media, he enjoys reads (a lot), trying new recipes, and prank calling people.
“Don’t take yourself too seriously. No one else does.”