Prince of piety
Prince, The Rainbow Children (NPG Records): For a long time in the '90s, it was possible to listen to Prince without paying much attention to what he was actually saying. The basic rhythm tracks were so crisp, the guitar playing so pinpoint-specific, the vocals so evocative (one minute, he'd be a '50s jazz diva; the next, some block-rocking hip-hop head) that the meanings of his dervishlike meditations on Holy Lust and other utopias were secondary.
That's not so easy to do this time. Having recently embraced the teachings of the Jehovah's Witnesses, the author of "Gett Off" and "Kiss" delivers an overblown rock-funk opera about the coming apocalypse and the need to get right with the Creator.
The adventure begins with Prince's lugubrious, slowed-down voice (heard to annoying effect throughout) introducing a jazz-inflected sermon. Despite several inspired moments, Rainbow Children sets the tone: Even the suite's simple, plaintive refrain is interrupted by proselytizing interludes as Prince's usually keen musical instincts get sidetracked by his mission to spread the Word.
Still, buried within this erratic effort are maddening glimmers of the old, secular Prince, moments when a groove takes hold long enough to remind us of his mastery. "The Work, Pt. 1" is an old-school revival-meeting stomp that starts with a heated proclamation of devotion and gets hotter. "Mellow" is laced with characteristically bold, multitracked vocal harmonies. "The Everlasting Now" takes rubbery, horn-fueled funk through all kinds of hairpin turns, and the ballad "Last December" transforms thoughtful, Stevie Wonder-style chords into a rousing (if overly religious) call for unity.
Tom Moon
Philadelphia Inquirer