Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Prince’s Closest Friends Share Their Best Prince Stories

He was a legend, a virtuoso, one of the true gods of music. But he was also (at times, anyway) a person in the world like anyone else. He liked to send goofy Internet memes to his friends. He made really good scrambled eggs. He rode his bike a lot, went to the hardware store, called old friends late at night. Chris Heath spoke with band members, fellow artists, and Paisley Park veterans about the life and times of Prince Rogers Nelson—the real Prince, the man so few people got to know before he was gone.

“Really, I’m normal. A little highly strung, maybe. But normal. But so much has been written about me and people never know what’s right and what’s wrong. I’d rather let them stay confused.” — Prince, 2004

Corey Tollefson (Minneapolis-based entrepreneur and fan; attended events at Paisley Park for over 20 years): The thing that was funny was you never saw Prince [first], you smelled him. He always smelled like lavender. And you knew when he was there because you'd turn around and go, "Holy shit, I smell Prince." And then, ten seconds later, you'd see him.

Kandace Springs (singer; befriended by Prince via Twitter after he discovered her cover of a Sam Smith song online in 2014): He smelled like lavender. Dude, I'm not even kidding you. Overtime. My sister burns lavender in my house and I'm, "Oh God, it smells like Paisley Park." That's Prince.

Maya Washington (photographer; befriended by Prince after he discovered her online in 2014): Before you meet him, you have the idea of him being this thing: He's untouchable, he's a unicorn, he's a meta-planet. So the first thing I was taken aback by, and a lot of people are taken aback by, is his size. Because I'm short, I'm five three…and he's shorter than me. But, that aside, he is a unicorn. He's somehow floating when he's talking.

Morris Hayes (keyboard player; Prince's longest-serving band member, 1992–2012): I remember taking him to the hardware store in my camping van. He wanted to go buy a lock. And we go to Ace Hardware—it's snowing and freezing—and I say, "Okay, Prince, you stay in the car." So I'm picking stuff up in the aisles, I look over, he just cruises by in a turtleneck sweater and his fuzzy boots, and people are looking like, "Oh my God, Prince is in the hardware store!" He comes and finds me and he's got a handful of crap—like, "Can we buy this?" I'm, "What did you do with the car?" He says, "It's out there—it's just running." I said, "Prince, you can't leave the car running—somebody could just steal the car." He said, "This is Chanhassen—nobody's gonna steal the car." So we get out to the car and sure enough it's out there, just running, smoke coming out of the tailpipe. And he's like, "I told you." (...)

Ian Boxill (engineer at Paisley Park, 2004–09): Even when he was dressed down, he'd dress like Prince: three-inch-tall flip-flops, or these heels with lights—they'd light up when he walked. That was his comfortable clothing. He had no pockets. You know, if you got people around that can carry phones and money for you, you can get away with that. No pockets and no watch. If he needed to use a phone he'd use my phone or a driver's phone.

Hayes: We have a thing called Caribou Coffee in Minnesota, which is like Starbucks. He'd go over there, and he didn't have any pockets. He didn't have a wallet or any credit cards. He just had cash he'd carry in his hand—like, a $100 bill. And whoever took his order, they'd have a good day, 'cause he'd buy his coffee drink and then just leave the whole hundred. He doesn't wait for any change because he doesn't have anywhere to put it.

Van Jones: He was very interested in the world. He wanted me to explain how the White House worked. He asked very detailed kind of foreign-policy questions. And then he'd ask, "Why doesn't Obama just outlaw birthdays?" [laughs] I'm, like, "What?" He said, "I was hoping that Obama, as soon as he was elected, would get up and announce there'd be no more Christmas presents and no more birthdays—we've got too much to do." I said, "Yeah, I don't know if that would go over too well."

Tollefson: In the'90s he wouldn't walk anywhere, even within Paisley Park, without a bodyguard. And then I'd say around 2010…I'm not going to say he stopped caring; he stopped being over the top. He just didn't give a shit. He just walked around and he talked to people. He was always smiling. He'd bring people in, we'd have listening sessions at Paisley.

Hayes: I took him to the bike store and I bought him a bike because he said he wanted a bicycle. I got him all sized up for it, and then I told him, "Okay, Prince, I'm only buying this bike if you get a helmet." And he said, "I don't want a helmet." I said, "Well, I'm not buying this bike, sir, if you don't get a helmet—you have to ride with a helmet or else I can't be responsible for you being on this bike." He says, "Well, I don't want a helmet." I said, "I'll get you a cool one—and I'll get one, too." So we got the helmets, but I found out later that he was riding the bike and he didn't wear it.

Tollefson: There's an arboretum, literally down the street from Paisley. And during the day he'd ride his mountain bike around town, and nobody would bother him. (...)

Electra: I don't know one beautiful woman who didn't want to be with him. But it did hurt me. It hurt me really bad. And I was too young to really communicate with him, so I just kind of pulled away. And during that time I went out with a guy—I hadn't slept with this person—and Prince found out. He said, "I wrote this song about you," and then he played "I Hate U." It was hard to hear. And it was even harder to hear the parts of the song that said it could have been a completely different way. Then to say, "I hate you because I love you"—I literally cried in front of him. I think he just wanted me to hear it and know that he was really upset. Then he flew me back to Los Angeles.

Glover: I had a boyfriend at the time. That was one thing [Prince] respected. They actually played basketball together. He was, "It's nice to meet you, man—I heard a lot about you." I told him, "That's the stupidest thing you could say! Everybody's heard a lot about Prince!"

Jill Jones: With him it was kind of like Groundhog Day. A repetition. He'd drive to his dad, he'd see his mom—those were the same introductory things and they never changed, no matter what woman came in. They all took the 6 A.M. drive. And the late-night things—I don't think I was the only one to say that Prince threw rocks or came and picked them up in the middle of the night. You'd go to a record store, you'd watch some movies, you'd make some popcorn. He was definitely a creature of habit.

by Chris Heath, GQ |  Read more:
Image: Richard Avedon