I don’t remember when the album came out. But I remember listening to the eponymous track.
It sounded so different. It sounded calm.
Every time I would wake up, 6:25am to catch the bus on time at 7:15am, the song was on the radio. Almost at the exact same time, right when I was opening my eyes, for a while.
Winter in Paris. Prince mutters things I don’t understand. And then the Stratocaster just slices through. Pure. Clean, like the cold and humid air outside. I’m still under the comforter and not ready to go brush my teeth. I enjoy his plaintive voice. I feel the spleen. I dig the funk. I’m excited by the production.
Incredibly timeless. It felt like it right then.
Sign o’ the times, mess with your mind.