Prince doesn’t have much truck with the internet these days, indeed he recently declared it to be “dead” (you will want to adjust your Facebook accounts accordingly). Conventional record labels are old hat too, so His Regal Purpleness has deigned to release 20Ten as a freebie with The Mirror – a left-wing red top which in recent weeks has come under the threat of job losses and even possible closure. It is nice to see the Minneapolis maverick show a genuinely “at risk” media outlet some support at a time when brand loyalty seems to be in short supply. Fans of Sign O’ the Times will remember from The Ballad of Dorothy Parker that Prince’s idea of loyalty stretches to sharing a bath with a lady while keeping his pants on because he’s “kind of going out with someone”. But Prince’s fans who have stuck with him to this stage of his career have displayed an altogether more robust form of dependability, enduring unlovely albums Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic and The Rainbow Children – the latter of which “boasted” a lengthy sermon on the merits of becoming a Jehovah’s Witness, delivered over noodly dinner-party jazz funk. So does 20Ten reward the faithful? Not really. In places the album echoes great moments from Prince’s past – Beginning Endlessly has a jittery, militaristic beat which is quite ear-catching, and Sticky Like Glue recalls Around the World in a Day’s barmy psychedelia but too often 20Ten slips into the sort of horrendous, snoozeworthy jazz-funk that could stun a lion into a bored stupor at a thousand paces. You expect sex from a Prince album, but perhaps Prince has decided that’s “dead” too because 20Ten is very much a rumpo-free zone. It’s odd to hear one of pop’s most celebrated pervs sing about not being able to sleep unless his girl’s body is right next to him (as he does on Sticky Like Glue) without it then going all X-rated. Walk In Sand – another dull ballad – sounds not unlike the work of David Sanborn or Grover Washington Jnr; you can imagine The Onion’s pathetic wannabe stud-muffin Smoove B deploying it in another doomed attempt to woo a lady-friend. The main problem with 20Ten is that it rarely excites, instead offering just fleeting glimpses of its creator’s indisputable talent. The effect is like going on a disappointing first date – you approach it with a certain hope and expectation, but come away knowing you don’t want to relive the experience again. And there’s strictly no touching.
Words: Ciaran Gaynor
