It was April 21. Roger Knight was playing a game on his phone when his cousin Meredith contacted him with a one word notification: “Prince.”
It took a few seconds for the meaning behind her stark text to sink in: The Purple One, The Artist, Prince had died.
“It didn’t make any sense in this reality that he was no longer alive. I was stunned. My world, and our world, got a lot less cool when he passed on,” Knight said in an interview last week.
Knight waid it was hard to listen to Prince’s music for a few days following his death.
It was just so hard to take,” Knight said. “Then I thought to myself, ‘You know what, no, I’m not going to feel this way.’ His music has brought me so much joy, and been the soundtrack to so many important moments throughout my life, that I’m going to revel in the sheer brilliance and beauty of the music and not in the present depressing reality of his demise.”
Knight is a local drummer/vocalist who plays in numerous bands, works at Northampton’s record store Turn It Up and hosts the Sunday night radio show “Turn It Up ’til 11” on 93.9 The River. He says he’s spent the last 2½ months filling his ears and heart with Prince songs. Everything from huge hits (“1999,” “Little Red Corvette,” “Kiss”) to deep cuts from lesser-mentioned ‘90s albums like “The Gold Experience” and “Chaos and Disorder.”
Now he’s put together a tribute concert, featuring some of the Valley musicians who’ve been inspired by “that skinny MF with the high voice,” as Prince once jokingly referred to himself.
The concert is called “The Beautiful One,” and will take place at the 13th Floor Music Lounge in Florence Saturday at 9 p.m.
Scheduled to perform their favorite Prince songs are The Brass, Mystics Anonymous, Seth Newton, Pretty Daddy (featuring members of Party Wolf and Alottle), Rev. Dan & the Dirty Catechism, Speak!, SSP, Starbird Bow, Tundra Toddler and others.
A raffle will be held, with prizes like Prince merchandise and gift certificates to local businesses, and a portion of the proceeds will be donated to the Epilepsy Foundation (though it’s not often mentioned, Prince had epilepsy as a child).
Every Prince fan has a story about how his endlessly creative music or bluntly erotic persona made an impact. For this writer, eighth grade was when Prince was in the air and everywhere.
Kids on the school bus passed around the “Purple Rain” lyric sheet so we could all get a look at the shocking words to “Darling Nikki.” A girl I had a crush on suggested we call each other the night MTV premiered the video for “Raspberry Beret” and watch it together, miles apart, connected by the telephone.
I was anxious, blushing and quiet as Prince’s unabashedly sexy and sunshiney psychedelic song filled my living room and hers. (The next day at school, she smiled and asked, “You were nervous weren’t you?” I blushed and nodded. She smiled big, impish as heck: “I could tell.”)
Knight was a fourth-grader when his mom drove him to a Bradlees in Brockton to pick out his own birthday present, a choice between “Purple Rain” or Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.”
“To me, Prince just looked way cooler than M.J., on his motorcycle, giving that ‘you know I’m sexy’ stare,” Knight said. “Plus, there was this very beautiful woman standing in the shadows, which didn’t hurt matters. So, I chose Prince.”
As we all were learning back then, Prince was unafraid to play with sexuality, and that fluidity and bravery often made as much impact as the music itself.
Richard James, vocalist of The Brass, spoke about Prince’s “unapologetic femininity.”
“It gave me permission in my youth to be comfortable with my identity,” he said in an interview earlier this week. “There was a duality there that was accessible and balanced. Men can possess vulnerability without it negating their identity. Sexuality could be both kinky and sacred. Prince expanded the conversation around sexuality, presenting it as more nuanced and complicated than society would have us believe.”
James had heard the out-of-nowhere news of Prince’s passing as soon as he woke up that April morning.
“I was shocked, especially since I was still mourning Bowie. Like many, I revisited his music. Long-forgotten memories were unlocked. He had written the secret soundtrack to my life.”
Ken Maiuri can be reached at clublandcolumn@gmail.com.