Prince says
something peculiar on his new album, Planet Earth, and it's
easy to worry about. During the otherwise listenable "The
Lion of Judah," our sexy little fawn purrs, "I've
probably passed my expiration date / But I still adore
you."
Truthfully, the
man did peak sometime around 1987. That's when his double
album Sign 'O' the Times synthesized funk,
balladry, and consciousness into an arresting aphrodisiac.
However, Prince's watershed successes don't consign
him to history books. As the man pushes 50, he
continues to produce music that collects flourishes of
familiar R&B, hip-hop, and funk while possessing a
lethal swoon and an ever-vital throb. His music is so
singularly Prince that it's always a dear commodity,
no matter how predictable it ends up.
So hearing His
Royal Badness bemoan growing pains feels disorienting,
even distracting. After all, his last effort, 2006's
3121, offered "Black Sweat, his most
sweltering, bossy jam since, oh, "Kiss." He made it plenty
easy for listeners to call him older yet no less
lusty. But Planet Earth, despite such delectable
precursors, pushes its listener to keep considering
Prince's expiration date, since so many of the album's
10 tracks replay his trademark poses.
Though Prince
remains something of a life force, his albums lately have
tended to slip into forgettable mid-tempo cuts and
lounge-worthy ballads, and Planet Earth is no
exception. Early on we're subjected to the lilting,
mega-slow "Somewhere Here on Earth," which croons on
and on without any original sentiments. Later, "Future
Baby Mama," which would be an awesome, pulsating
number that references the Maury show in a
better world, phones in with hushes and a recycled beat. Add
"Mr. Goodnight" ("All over the world, people call me
Prince / But you can call me Mr. Goodnight"), and you
may have a recipe for boredom. Not to mention a lame,
cocky lyric. Worst of all, these songs hardly seem
plunked in the present--they sound like B sides that
could've sailed alongside filler on either 3121
or Prince's 2004 comeback, Musicology.
But past-evoking
is also welcome, occasionally. The faux-angsty,
gleefully stupid "Guitar" whips some spitfire back into the
mix. The song conjures the bump and bounce of
3121's "Lolita" without that pesky Nabokov
reference smarting things up. And the rollicking "The One U
Wanna C" reminds us of two things: One, Prince will forever
spell how he damn well pleases; two, he's game to
reference disgusting titles of old hits ("I don't want
to waste your time / If you wanna get creamy"). And
there's something in the playful longing here that's
very "I Would Die 4 U"--the heat, the immediacy, the
hollers. A definite highlight.
Planet Earth's title track may be the best of
the bunch, thanks to topical war commentary and
mushroom-cloud drums that pummel the song's
twinkling piano. The message conjures "Sign
'O' the Times," even if it lacks
that masterpiece's entrancing beat. Is it all
enough to forget the album's middling material? Certainly
not, since the album's lack of firm direction only
certifies it as an unsurprising follow-up to
3121. Prince unquestionably stamps his identity
and vitality all over Planet Earth, but few can
say this album marks new progress in his oeuvre, which
has recently hit a plateau. But as he validates his
signature sound with each new work, perhaps what's
most reassuring remains Prince's commitment to his
musical pulse. Thankfully, he's not expired--he's just
self-satisfied.