DIY Icon: 7 Prince ElectroBeats

“U’ve been gone 17 days, 17 long nights…”

-Prince, “17 Days”

I’ve already written about His Royal Badness on this blog because Prince is a DIY champion (and pretty much my musical idol). Whereas he brought in at least a few collaborators on every album I can think of subsequent to his one-man-band debut, only a handful of others (Todd Rundgren, Brian Wilson, Paul McCartney, and Stevie Wonder come to mind) took such a solitary, comprehensive approach to pop music production.

This article isn’t about Prince the shredder or the bass slapper, the jazz pianist or the unparalleled master of the vocal freakout. Nope, it’s about the key DIY element to his output: his drum programming.

The LinnDrum Roger Linn developed for Linn Electronics is a drum machine that, unlike previous beatmakers, sampled live drums for a rich, punchy sound. The Linn LM-1, its most famous incarnation, launched in 1982, the year of my birth. This model allowed for quantising and accenting; if I’m not mistaken, some of the percussion sounds were even tunable. In other words, the LM-1 was a revolutionary instrument, far surpassing earlier machines (Sly and the Family Stone’s groundbreaking 1971 album There’s a Riot Goin’ On is the first instance I know of where a drum machine—sounding a lot like an organ preset—was put to use on record, though some speculate the Sly-produced act Little Sister did it first; another notable use before the LinnDrum came along is Blondie’s “Heart of Glass,” a #1 hit in 8 countries which opens with programmed drums). During the 1980s, the LinnDrum was second only to the Roland 808 in popularity, but not for lack of quality: on the contrary, the LM-1 came with a $5,500 price tag, and 808s were cheaper (I always thought hip-hoppers like Big Boi and Chuck D were rapping about an area code when they referenced the 808; now I know better).*

muzique

Prince busting up Club Muzique in Montreal with his beat sampler after 3AM, one month to the day before he died; the set ended on a reprised “Forever in My Life”

Prince was the Hendrix of electronic drums, a creative high water mark that left most of his predecessors sounding dated and unimaginative. The LM-1 was his weapon of choice (Prince used others, as well): he detuned it, flanged it, ran it backwards, syncopated with it, paired it with real drums—even if he weren’t a multi-hyphenate musical prodigy, his drum sound alone would qualify as a personal stamp on music history. Electro and EDM musicians owe Prince a huge debt of gratitude—his “Minneapolis Sound” contributed more to electronic music than most other musicians can claim (Kraftwerk and Moroder being earlier but less prolific artists, and that might be the only time you’ll read “Moroder” and “less prolific” in the same sentence). It’s possible the LM-1 had an enabling effect on his massive output: to paraphrase his 1980s engineer Susan Rogers, most albums take 700-800 hours, whereas they once cut an album in a week.

Here are a few Prince beats worth studying (I’ll only link to one, to avoid a lawsuit when Prince’s people get Paisley Park back in order)…

1999: If Giorgio Moroder’s production on Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love” is ground zero for EDM, Prince’s synth-heavy and beat-driven double album 1999 is the genre’s rosetta stone. The title track’s instantly recognizable beat is simple: kicks on the one and the three opening a wide pocket for a multilayered groove, propulsive eighth-notes on the hi-hat, and, eventually, snare on the two and four, plus a fizzy crash cymbal effect leading nicely into “Little Red Corvette,” the best one-two punch in his catalog. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” Prince tells the listener in a pitch-adjusted baritone at the beginning of the track, but once the tom assault gets going, you doubt he was telling the truth. Thump… thump… thump… thump-a-thump-a-thump-a-thump-a thump… thump… thump…

Irresistible Bitch: On the 1983 B-side to “1999,” Prince demonstrates that electronic beats should not be thought of as a poor man’s substitute to live drums, but as a unique new sound (in fact, The Revolution’s drummer, Bobby Z., feared the drum machine would replace him in concert, but instead Prince introduced him to drum pads). He accomplishes this not by replacing the live drums, but by juxtaposing programmed beats and fills with analog percussion for a syncopated dance floor freakout. This B-side became a nightclub favourite.

Erotic City: Two words—backwards snare. As if that weren’t creative enough, Prince pairs the snare with a ringing clap so the backwards echo passes itself off to a forward-moving echo. Later, the LM-1’s tom fills run through a flanger pedal. Prince adds a bottom layer with the bass and kick playing in sync for a monster groove, over which he provides pitch-adjusted vocals and some of his raciest lyrics in this marvelous B-side production. Recorded in 1984, it’s little wonder drum machines exploded in the black music scene the following year. A serious contender for my favourite Prince track, even George Clinton, who inspired “Erotic City” after Prince took in a P-Funk concert, couldn’t quite do it justice.

Raspberry Beret: This beat is so simple it’s almost boring, but for one tiny tweak that makes all the difference. Kick on the one and three, snare on the two and four, another two bar Prince beat… except on the second beat of the first bar, Prince adds a flange effect that immediately distinguishes this song from everything else on the radio as a Prince jam. Why? Because Prince had already used a flanged beat in his biggest hit, “When Doves Cry.” This is a lesson in giving your music authorial style: find a few production tricks and use them often enough to give your tunes a trademark sound. As Alfred Hitchcock quipped, “style is self-plagiarism.”

Sign o’ the Times – tonal, almost melodic, the foundation of the mostly drum & bass opener that kicked off his most acclaimed album.

Bob George: Similar to “Housequake” in its kick drum intensity, Prince doubles up on the bottom end by mimicking the kick’s rhythm with synth bass. This banger from The Black Album has a wicked heavy beat a few years ahead of gangsta rap.

777-9311: One of Prince’s most notorious beats came from the second album he produced for The Time. Drum aficionados (at least those willing to venture beyond John Bonham and Keith Moon) have described “777-9311” as one of the most difficult beats out there. John Blackwell—the most impressive drummer I’ve ever seen live—recalled how the intricate beat saved his ass during an audition for the Purple One. After a cursory jam that Prince cut short, Blackwell started into the “777-9311” rhythm while Prince was exiting the room, recalling that Prince’s eyes bugged out and he came back to play some more. Blackwell landed the gig, stating that a lot of drummers can’t play the hi-hat part, and his being left-handed was the only thing that allowed him to nail it. While the kick’s rhythm is nuanced, the accelerating hi-hat pattern, today found in everything from dubstep to new country, is a quarter century ahead of its time. “777-9311” also features what Prince considered a signature bass line and one of his best early-era guitar solos—it’s probably safe to say Prince liked this track more than “Kiss.” The Time’s Jesse Johnson claims the beat was an LM-1 preset programmed by Tower of Power’s drummer, but since he wasn’t in the studio when Prince laid the track, the jury is still out.

Honourable mentions: “Dance On.” This metalfunk rocker from the 1988 album Lovesexy uses live drums (I’m guessing Sheila E. was on the stool), but the syncopation is so incredible it’s worth mentioning here. Ditto for Michael B.’s opening flourishes on “Shhh,” from 1994’s The Gold Experience.

Prince once sang, “I’d rather believe that there’s hope for a kid, and if he imitates the best, I guess that’s what I’ll try to be.” Kids just might be imitating u 4ever, Prince.

 

*DIY hack: you can download a Linn-inspired iPad app for $2.99.