Publication: The Washington Post [US]
Date: April 2, 1987
Section: Style; Page B11; Records
Length: 859 Words
Title: "Prince, Back On Track; 'Sign 'O' The Times': A Return To Roots"
Written By: Richard Harrington

With "Sign 'o' the Times" (Paisley Park/Warner Bros., double album, single cassette and CD), Prince returns to some familiar terrain -- the dance floor, the bedroom and, to a lesser degree, the hippie den. But much of this record seems like a payback to black radio, which has tended to remain loyal to Prince through his many changes -- the new wave funk of "1999," the pop-rock of "Purple Rain," the neopsychedelia of "Around the World in a Day," the chaotic montage of last year's "Parade" (a sort-of sound track to his sort-of-movie, "Under the Cherry Moon").

But Prince has long been about tumbling the walls that sprang up in the '70s, an era when both industry and public perceptions of "black" and "white" music were stereotyped. Colorful, but color-less, "Sign 'o' the Times" is a better album than Prince's last two efforts, which both contained some great songs but lacked a coherent point of view.

Unfortunately it's also a double album, and by choosing to include 16 cuts (several extended by rather mundane noodling), Prince has diluted its power and impact, always a danger with self-production.

The title cut, Prince's most political song since "1999," is another intriguingly spare production in the tradition of his great singles, "When Doves Cry" and "Kiss." With taut drums and a rubbery bass line, it slowly builds to a bluesy edge as it depicts a plethora of apocalyptic signs (AIDS, drugs, violence, natural calamity) and contrasts them with the inexorable passage of time and the redemption of family. At first, Prince's lyrics and phrasing suggest Paul Simon, but as he moves from angst to agony, his vocals reflect genuine (rather than intellectual) pain and confusion.

"Housequake" is more indicative of the record's dance floor dialectic: a snap-crackle-funk workout that owes a lot to Chicago "house music" and Washington's go-go sound. When Prince declares "Come on ya'll, we got 2 jam/ Before the police come/ A groove this funky is on the run," he's not kidding. The song is wickedly fun, marred only by Prince's high-pitched delivery and a mechanical pulse.

Like much of his recorded work, "Sign 'o' the Times" is basically Prince multitracked in the studio (with help on some cuts from Eric Leeds of the Family on saxophone, Atlanta Bliss on trumpet, Sheila E on percussion). But the album has the occasional stiffness and thinness of a one-man project, particularly in the percussion.

Other rhythmically dense dance floor cuts include "IT," "Hot Thing" and "U Got the Look" (with Sheena Easton), all delirious explorations of the American Wet Dream -- life, libertines and the happiness of pursuit -- and all guaranteed to make some parental group cringe. "U Got the Look" is particularly naughty, but there's something almost endearing about the exaggerated sexual bravado of its lyrics.

Happily, Prince shows a romantic side as well. He turns into a virtual crooner on the lovely and languid "Slow Love." Unfortunately, the song (co-written with prote'ge' Carol Davis) loses some of its emotional impact when saccharine strings and a muted trumpet intrude. The same kind of unnecessary baggage drags down the engaging "Adore," which features a loose Gladys Knight and the Pips romantic groove (with a gospelly edge), maudlin love lyrics and Prince's inability to reach a satisfactory conclusion. (Anyone for chorus interruptus?) Also upbeat and enticing are "Forever in My Life," with a liquid melody and delivery that recall Sly Stone and Bill Withers, and "It's Gonna Be a Beautiful Night," with its believable James Brown-George Clinton-Cameo type funk. The album's most rock-oriented cut, "I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man," is bright, sassy, buoyant, and surprisingly Billy Joel-like.

None of his mistakes here is as egregious as "Under the Cherry Moon." "Play in the Sunshine" sounds like a Pepperland leftover, a mishmash of obtuse lyrics, meandering melody and sonic clutter. The only other real psychedelic flashback is "Starfish and Coffee," close kin to "Raspberry Beret." With its oblique lyrics and Sade-like moodiness, "The Ballad of Dorothy Parker" is intriguing, if a bit nonsensical.

Two songs are particularly affecting. "The Cross," a song suggesting Prince has not abandoned the spiritual questing previously noted on songs like "The Ladder," starts off with strummed acoustic guitar and Loudon Wainwright-type vocal, adds a muddy Richard Thompson-like electric guitar that then weaves modally through the song as it builds intensity before exploding into a metallic blues.

"If I Was Your Girlfriend" is quintessential Prince -- teasing, pulsating, sinister, provocative. "If I was your girlfriend would u remember 2 tell me all the things u forgot when I was your man?" he wonders. He then meanders between the innocent and the lewd, playing an escalating game of "trust me" before ending in a racy rap that's never going to make it onto radio. Though much of "Sign 'o' the Times" will end up on the air, this particular song is an apt summation of Prince's music in general -- its range, risk-taking, absorbing energy and general accessibility tinged with mystery.