There is a perfectly good Prince album titled The Vault, which Warner Brothers released at the end of Prince's contract to mess with his Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic release. That album is not represented here. This is a collection from an era of Prince that, as a whole, I'm not a fan of, but which did produce some excellent songs.

In order to both fill out the aforementioned contract, as well as kickstart his new contract, Prince put out a TON of material. Every release was two discs, three discs, a box set he found inside a box of Cap'n Crunch. And a lot of it is ... fine. It's not that this was a terrible time for Prince, it's just that his perfectly good material was drowning amongst his perfectly adequate material.

I remember being in Madison, Wisconsin, hanging out with some new friends to hide from a creepy ex (who had done some creepy thing to my new friends, as well), and seeing they had the full Prince discography. There were so many albums I hadn't heard. I spent the week devouring them, and ... I got super burnt out on Prince, and for a few months, imagined I was just Over Prince. I imagine actual fans felt even more oversaturated in this era. It's not so much an embarrasment of riches, as an embarrassment of adequacy. How do you even slog through this to find the gems?

Take your time. Listen to things a bunch of times, and try and figure out the shape of an album. And when that doesn't work, and it won't, make a Greatest Hits album of the era that has the feel of a few albums interacting with each other. The Vault. Imagine it's a double album, because it's a bit long.

I find Prince's more Message Songs not to be to my taste. I agree with them, but his lyrics are better suited for sex than peace. I like his politics when they come out of nowhere, like in 1999. Jarring Prince is such a better lyricist than straightforward political Prince. We March is an exception to that rule for me. It's orchestrated so well that the simplistic nature of the lyrics doesn't at all bother me.

The Jam Of The Year practically falls out of "We March". Similarly to my feelings about political messages, are the vast songs about being a singer that Prince has. It's like he and Bono went to the same content seminar in 1986. But "The Jam Of The Year", if not THE Jam Of The Year, was at least a contender. It's super dancey, and very Prince.

All that glitters ain't Gold, but this track would have felt perfect on Diamonds And Pearls. Everyone wants a tale that's already been told is sort of true here. I love this song because it reminds me of an era of Prince that I preferred to what was, at the time, the current Prince era. Is it his best song? Hell, no. But it is a glittery anthemic reminder of 80s into 1990 Prince.

The na na nas of "Gold" fade naturally into the Da Da Das of the next New Power Generation track. Scrap D does the rap duties, and it definitely feels like mid-90s rap before Prince comes in with his "we should all love one another" verse and then the killer crunch of his guitars followed by a very percussive outro.

Time to get back to the funk with New Powersoul. An almost instrumental track that just fucken cooks. I've avoided all of Prince's instrumental albums in this discography, not because they're bad, but because I don't have the language to discuss why I like certain instrumental tracks and not others. If there aren't lyrics involved, my opinions are mostly varied to "instruments good, RHYTHM BAD", which isn't very helpful. Also, a couple of Prince's instrumental albums are like yoga music for expectant hippie mothers, and I have a problem even reckoning how those are Prince albums. But this is perfect background funk with just a touch of lyrics as the NPS sings the title every once in a while, and then some old man stumbles in to talk over the ending.

Croony Prince enters over some weathery effects for Curious Child. It's a sweet song that your mom (whether she's doing pregnant yoga or not) would like. It's soft, and has some cheesy trilling pianos, but for a soft, cheesy Prince song, it's great. It could also be baby's first Prince song.

And while we're being childlike, I'm a HUGE fan of Joan Osborne's first album, Relish. I saw her perform most of the tracks before its release, at a festival headlined by the P-Funk All-Stars. It was an amazing show. One Of Us is one of the weakest tracks on her album. I much prefer Prince's cover. It's still soft and juvenile (he switches out the word slob for slave, in case you couldn't read his forehead) but his performance of the track is perfect album filler for me, you can idly sing along to it without having to actually rock out.

A clap of thunder. Some rain. Snarey drums. Scatty vocals. Somebody Somebody is a little on-the-nose effect heavy with the ticking clock, when he mentions time, and the weather whenever he mentions weather. But, y'all Prince is LONELY, and he just wants someone to cuddle with. But he's gonna get screechy about it. And there's not enough screech in this era of Prince, so this is a welcome sound.

Horny Prince now wants to change the narrative. He wasn't lonely, YOU were lonely. But he can help you, baby. He has something every girl should know, and he's gonna give it you One Kiss At A Time.

While he's dispensing knowledge, Prince would like to dip out of his falsetto and get religiousexy with you. The Love We Make is a rare Bumper-Stickery trck where Prince gives you little kernels of knowledge you might see on a passing Prius. His delivery is impeccable though. We'll call this the end of disc one of the double disc album.

The Same December is a very different Prince from the previous track. I don't mean that it's way more upbeat and Prince's vocals are up about an octave, though both of those things are true. But here, he's telling you not to listen to the type of narrator he just was! Everything's gonna be the same, y'all forget those stupid wisdom dispensers, you only know what you know! He also gets kind of Rocky Horror near the end.

Here comes some bass to the rescue, though, with some very 90s background samples as the New Power Generation goes Joint 2 Joint. Whatever you do, though, don't give Prince a picture of your mother. I don't care what he says. Ninety-9 drops the rare female MC verse in a male dominated song, and then ... Savion Glover ... tap dances .. the percussion ? because Prince enjoyed Bring in 'da Noise, Bring in ' da Funk.  Sure. Then there's a narration break where Prince tries to convince some poor woman that he's ready to settle down. THEN HE HANGS UP ON HER to hop on

My Computer. His songs about technology are awful, But this one feels deliberately fuddy-duddy. As Prince scans his computer looking for a site so he can talk to someone. Guys, he's still So Lonely. If you were on AOL in the 90s, the sound effects might make you nostalgic.

Sonny T tackles the vocals on Hallucination Rain, after ingesting some funny tasting soup. The electric violin on this track, playing against the funk synth tones is perfection.

Rising out of the hallucination is Prince going back and forth between his narration voice and his all-over-the-place-climbing-ivy vocals in Dreamin About You. A nice little guitar strummy ballad with flower images.

The guitar continues strumming right into the summertime jam Count The Days. I just want to drink some lemonade while rockin' chairing it on a porch, singing Here's a muthatfucka I gotta blow away.

At the end of those days, sits The Most Beautiful Girl In The World. By far, Prince's most radio friendly hit song of the mid-90s. Maybe of the entire 90s. It sounds much more engineered by a studio executive than a musical genius. But it totally works.

Let the syrupy pop continue! Prince takes the Stylistics' Betcha By Golly Wow and Princifies it only a bit. As covers go, it's not very imaginative, it's just a surprise that he covered it at all. This was the only track I heard from the album before the Madison trip. I still enjoy it.

Soul Sanctuary has a bit of a Caribbean flavor. But only a bit. It's still falsettotown balladville for Prince. This time he's totally not telling the person he's in love with that he's in love with them.  Shhhhh.

Then he Hey girls his way into The Delfonics' La La La La Means I Love You, which is right on par with "Betcha By Golly Wow". It's not inventive but it works. And I'm not sure how many 90s kids were listening to 1940s soul hits.

Prince pretty much does what he wants on this album because he's got Style. And on this track he tells you, in his narrator-almost-rap voice, what style is. Without the background you got it vocals, I'm not sure I would have included this track. It's braggadocio feels pretty limp. But, like, he *does* have style.

Cherry Cherry sounds like the third part of the 1940s cover trio on this disc, but it's a Prince original with guest vocals by Sonny T again. It's a fun throwback riff with the occasional modern lyrics about watching a basketball game.

Closing out the album is another cover. This time one of my favorite Bonnie Raitt songs, Eye Can't Make U Love Me. It's a nice simmering ending to the double album. Unlike "One Of Us", I do prefer the original to Prince's cover but I have enough love for both versions.

Thus ends the Greatest Hits Of An Era album. The next reimagined album is much more cohesive.

The first time I took a swing at a reimagined Prince discography was last year. I got Purple Rain right, but I really didn't know enough Prince to make any other well-informed decisions. I knew that I loved Diamonds & Pearls and Lovesymbol, so I combined them, and threw on some other later tracks that I enjoyed. It was fun to listen to, but not a great album, or a cohesive idea.

As much as I love them, and as much as they came out in rapid succession, Diamonds & Pearls and Lovesymbol are two vastly different albums. Forcing them together is unnecessary, as they both stand on their own. Sure, you can give them some additional support from the unreleased albums that bumper them, but even those are more for flair than anything. So I paired the original Lovesxy album with Undertaker, which has a couple of tracks that made me wish Prince released an entire blues album because these tracks will singe the hairs off of places you didn't want hair anyway.

This is the album I'm most upset that I shouldn't play at the store while working.

There is no reason in the world why this album should ever start with anything other than My Name Is Prince. We're back to a slow intro build that errupts into the introdution of the band, drums, erotic stacatto, drums, and some very 80s scratching. There are even samples from previous Prince songs! He did not come to funk around. Until he has your daughter, he won't leave this town. Your daughter? How old was he when this came out? 34? Let's hope the daddy he's talking to is at least 50. This is his greatest intro track for any album. It's a statement of thesis. It's an intro to him and his band, it's got some killer guitar screeching, and you kind of have to dance to it when you hear it.

The track one / track two punch of "My Name Is Prince" and Sexy M.F. needed to be upheld, too. It's probably the best sex funk song since James Brown took a hiatus from having any idea how to produce music so that he could host "Future Shock". I cheated a little bit in bridging the two songs with the minute plus long climax of the unreleased album Come but it absolutely belongs between these two wonderfully filthy songs. Rosie Gaines is superior to Meg Ryan's diner performance in When Harry Met Sally in every way. But once the actual track starts, it's all about Prince's best rap performance, the smooth title riff, and those horns. THOSE HORNS. Best since the JBs. Hands down.

We cool down again for just a moment before the synth beat of The Max crunches in. More great background performances by Rosie Gaines and Tony M. There are also some wonderful keyboard riffs repeated throughout the song.  It's not a classic because the first two tracks from the album exist. But if they didn't, this could have been a standout song from the album.

The Undertaker, the eponymous track from the unreleased album is a masterclass in blues guitar. I don't understand why this track hasn't been used in so many westerns that it's become a cliche. It would be totally worth it. I imagine Mark Callaway fucks to this song at least twice a week. It should have at least been the theme song to his Wrestlemania Streak. This song is ten minutes of utter perfection.

The first song that feels like it would have been at home on Diamonds & Pearls is Eye Melt With U. I probably should have put it there. It's a little too dance track Prince for the funk on this album. It's got the right quantity of sex for either album.

Another track from Come, Solo starts acapella, throws in some harp strumming and weathery effects and ends up being just a hauting fucken masterpiece.

Then the drums of The Ride crash in, and we're back in blues rock. Clocking in at a minute longer than "The Undertaker", this could also fit in any well-produced, modern western. The guitar scorches through this song. It's up there with his performance of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" at The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

There's a soft segue into another dancey ballad, Love 2 The 9s, which seems to come from every era of Prince. This really could be from any album, and yet it doesn't feel as generic as some of his near future "that song could have been on any album" output. I think the drums are the star of this falsetto to baritone track. It ends with a snapping outro.

And God Created Woman brings the synths back to the forefront, as soft rock Prince croons and whisper talks his desires at you, yes you, baby. There is an interesting, if not perfect, gospel choral attempt about halfway through the song. Prince continues his evolution of being less creepy as if he never sees you again / it's alright. No more hanging out in the parking lot, waiting for you to leave work, or sitting on the trunk of the car until you leave your house.

"And God Created Woman" flows perfectly into another falsetto soft rock track, 3 Chains Of Gold. They were back to back on the original album for a reason. I love the Sgt. Peppersesque use of effects on this track. Poor Prince has no cream or dreams in this track. Luckily, he has kickass vocals (and he references The Undertaker track, which totally wasn't on the original album ... shhhh). The drums spiral us to the whooey-climax, and straight into the gong of

7. This song is super-Prince without sounding much like anything else he's done. It would have felt comfortable on Purple Rain, I think, even though the laughing effects are all Batman Soundtrack. Prince narrating the apocalypse caused by the seven deadly sins is my kind of popcorn flick. I really wish that had been the video instead of sort-of-blindfolded bondage-light Prince does some sci-fi effects while macking on hot women. We get it, Prince, you're short, and you fuck a lot, and you think you're magic. But, like, I want more.

Ok. I hadn't noticed, nor heard before that the videos from this album mostly revolved around his wife being an Egyptian Princess who Prince meets during "3 Chains Of Gold", and then sees her  father assassinated by "7" assassins. It's an accident that I linked them together in this order. It must be at least subliminally genius Prince that the story ... concludes ? in The Morning Papers.

Blue Light is really as close to reggae as Prince gets. He really does always take a simple thing and push it way too far.  But that's how he stayed so famous for so long, even though he's on the cusp of falling into his Undertaker / Dirty Work phase of his career. But let us go out on this perfectly affable track. It's not as perfect an ending as most of the other albums, but I think it's ok for this to land soft since it started so perectly h...you know.

For most of us, are favorite albums by our favorite bands came out when we were teenagers. I'm no exception. I can look back, and say something academically bullshit, like "Given the politics of the time, and the wide-ranging influence amongst his peers at the time, Prince's most important albums are inarguably blah blah blah who cares?" My favorite albums? Diamonds And Pearls and Love Symbol. Not only did they both come out when I was most musically impressionable, they're two very, very different albums.

I was at a middle school Halloween dance when I first heard "Cream". Somewhere, there is a photo of me, dressed as a monkey, my date dressed as Debbie Gibson, and my best friend at the time (who would start dating my date in a few days) dressed a bougie piece of shit in boat shoes (so, no costume). The song "Cream" is not playing in the background, but it will be soon. It will make dancing uncomfortable. Not because of any sitcom shenanigans, no one gets their first boner or period during the song, merely because none of us are cool enough to dance to this song. Or, really, any song, but this song in particular. Will we be someday? Probably not.

This is the first album with his new band, New Power Generation. And to celebrate it, I've mixed in NPG's first side album, Gold----a, as well as included a couple of tracks from Graffiti Bridge, which I consider Prince's first boring album. People like to separate the bomb of a movie from the soundtack, and claim that where the former fails, the latter is genius. They're entitled to that opinion. For me, the soundtrack sounds like Prince and some other talented artists inadvertantly making a Rocky Horror Picture Show era musical. Everything sounds dated, and kind of the same. And it sounded dated as soon as they recorded it. That it came out between Sign O The Times and Diamonds & Pearls baffles me.

But enough of the negativity. This album is a celebration of sex and decent hip hop (early 90s NPG was amazing).

A robot counts us down to out opening track, Live For Love, and doesn't even get to finish it before the drums kick in. There is obviously a new band on this album. But here's Prince in all of his Princeness with grungey guitar riffs, and an almost metal synth in the background. Prince performs the first two rap verses of the song, and it's better than his previous attempts, partly because it doesn't sound highly derivative of better 80s lyricists. The third rap is our real introduction to Tony M, the all-star collaborator of the New Power Generation. He is a revelation, and his voice is a great counterpoint to His Purpleness.

After a little segue about how much NPG hates record companies, it's time to get filthy. Screechy Prince is here to help you Gett Off. Prince's rap here ... is fine, but helped by Tony M and Rosie Gaines's vocals, and a flute. This song is a rescue of several lackluster songs from Graffiti Bridge and Lovesexy. And damn is it an improvement.

After some tinkling, it's time to get to Tony M's first moment to shine, as he explains the concept behind Gold----a in the eponymous track. The funk behind this song is stunning. It's a blaxpoitation theme song that Isaac Hayes probably envied. There is no Prince in the vocals of this song. It's fine. Tony M kills it here.

We get a little drum and synth breaking through the funk, and Prince is back for Thieves In The Temple. That's right, Prince, you better sing your ass off or Tony M is going to steal this album away from you! (Tony is low in the mix of this very early NPG song.)

A quick instrumental funk song to cleanse the pallete, Oilcan is a goddamned national treasure. And it leads into the 1950s nostalgic Strollin. Falsetto Prince reminisces about roller skating and ice cream, but does so in the present tense, as though he were still an obstreperous youth, and not a thirty-something year old mega rock star looking back at a time he didn't even live through. This is the 90s song most possible for Prince to have actually recorded on one of his 1970s albums. It's a nice throwback.

Here it comes. Orgasm Prince is here to shoot his Cream all over the 90s. Funk guitar riff with a little Bonnie Raitt twang. Filthy lyrics and innuendo. Prince claims he wrotes this song while masturbating. Oh, that silly, silly, purple pervert (not for masturbating, but for writing about his guitar while masturbating). The background vocals are also a fundamental part of why this song slays. I wish I could have done it justice on the dance floor when I first heard it. But if I could, I probably would have been expelled. Also, nice work, DJ, for playing this, as opposed to the Bryan Adams we obviously requested.

"Cream" segues into one of the four Prince songs I most often get stuck in my head, Diamonds And Pearls. If Tony M is the breakout star of the NPG, Rosie Gaines is the underrated superstar. D to the I to the A to the M / O to the N to the D to the pearls of love. This is another Prince talking about being too poor for the person he's in love with. But, unlike his earlier work, he never actually says it. He just infers it since he can't giver her diamonds and pearls, all he can do / is offer them his lo-ove.

From here, we get Mavis Staples intro-ing her own song from Graffiti Bridge, Melody Cool. Look, the movie is a mess, the soundtrack is underwhelming, but Mavis fucken Staples is the highlight reel of both. This definitely sounds more like a high school theater production than a track from a movie in the late 80s, but Mavis Staples sings as much hell as she can into it. The horns are fine. She also shouts out The New Power Generation. The scratching records and drum machine sound like an afterthought. The less said about the lyrics, the better.

Oh good, Tony M is back for Jughead. Honestly, this song really sounds like it would fit better on Love Symbol but this album needs it more. Some of the best funk rap hybrid of the 1990s, and it's from 1990. Prince, Kirk Jackson, and Rosie Gaines on background vocals, and Prince's rap verses are also excellent. The Tony M vs. a manager from the music industry intro is a hilarious precursor to Prince's future battle with Warner Brothers.

Tony M keeps it going on Deuce & A Quarter compares waiting for your music royalties to sucking a glass dick. O....k. The class warfare in the verses is sadly relevant right now.

The funk and Tony M move from money issues to love and lust issues for Part 2 of Gold----a. Seriously, you should get your hands on the full album. It's amazing.

Prince comes back, like he's walking through a beaded curtain, to ask The Question Of U. Luckily, he's brought his guitar with him, and has an almost metal 90s guitar solo. This might be Slash's favorite song on the album. It smokes. And the guitar should definitely have been wearing sunglasses for this track. How the hand claps work on this song is a mystery, but they do.

Drums and twangy bass lead us into Insatiable where falsetto Prince croons to his latest love, one of my favorite Doctor Who companions. How did he know, fifteen minutes before she appeared, how amazing Martha Jones would be? The outro is creepy sex to the max.

Thunder is straight fire from beginning to end. It certainly brings to mind ACDC before it steals some moves from more Eastern music. We're back to religious quandries, but this song is all about syncopation and the chorus. And thunder guitar.

Time for a soft funk ballad. Toni M takes lead vocals on 2gether. According to lore, this was the final song Prince wrote before changing his name to an unpronouncable love symbol. It's a love song about getting out of the street life.

Prince is Willing And Able to have a gospel background to this song about playing cards, which sounds nothing like any of his other songs, and yet is unmistakably Prince.

Our last funk track from this album is Toni M and Rosie Gaines sampling vocals for Goldie's Parade under immaculate horns and a bassline so sick, hospitals would straight up rule it a lost cause.

The final track for the album is Prince explaining how Money Don't Matter 2nite. It's also about playing cards (blackjack), and about lust, and the music industry. Shit, Prince, what a great way to tie a bow on this whole album, as it lets the synth fade it out.

One of the comments made, when Scott Woods posed the question:  "Would you have wanted The Camille Album released, knowing that if it had been put out, there would have been no Sign O The Times album??" pointed out that, as it stood the Camille album (in this discography, it's called Controversy) was a complete concept, while Sign O The Times wasn't really a great album, so much as a collection of amazing, if disconnected, songs. But if you pull out all the Camille songs, are you left with an improved and more focused Sign O The Times?

Well, maybe. But not one to want any songs, released or otherwise, to go to waste, I've added the songs from the unreleased Black Album into the mix, thus making this another collection of amazing songs that lacks the focus of an album. It's like Prince's Greatest Hits from 1987. Because he was (not releasing but....) creating two albums a year worth listening to. Even though he decided not to release The Black Album because it was "evil", enough bootlegs of it made the rounds that when Rolling Stone asked rockstars of the era what their favorite album of the year was, many of them named The Black Album.

I probably could have split this into two EPs, but I like listening to a full length album, so I've interspersed the tracks. Call it Sign O The Times or Princes Greatest Hits From 1997 That Weren't From The Camille Album, I love the dizzying result. If it has a theme, it's that Prince can't seem to balance out his religious life and sex life in a satisfying way, which, let's be real, was the theme for his entire career.

Another slow build start, as an acoustic guitar strums the intro track, The Cross, another Jesusy start to an album that's mostly sex. The drums come in, while Prince is still somewhere between a psalm and a croon, they give the occasional snare, and then the grungey guitar fuzzes in and desperate Prince comes to change your religion.

As the religion fades out, the sex breezes right in on Le Grind. A dirty dance floor grinder from The Black Album. The lyrics are pretty generic call and response dance music, but the instrumentation and vocals are peak funk Prince.

Now, if you were looking for cool lyrics, Starfish And Coffee is the song you were waiting for. I probably heard it on the original album at some point, but my first memory of the song was Prince singing it with a bunch of generic-ass Muppets on "Muppets Tonight". Maybe the named Muppets didn't feel cool enough to be included in the song?

The title track is Prince's hyper-focused "We Didn't Start The Fire" as he goes through a list of 1987 society's ills, and how they're just endemic of 1987. AIDS, drug abuse, The Challenger explosion, the internal struggle between religion and sex (via "Annie Christian"), gang violence, and infanticide. With different music, is this a song worth listening to? Maybe. But the production and spare riffage make this one of the best songs that came out in 1987, period.

United In West Compton opens with conversations over bass drums, and then turns into a spectacular instrumental funk song.

Ask Scott Woods, or most Prince fans, what the best track of Sign O The Times is, and they'll agree, it's The Ballad Of Dorothy Parker. A classic funk bassline, a narrative about a waitress, snare, self-examination and deprication, and a bubble bath. What more could one possibly want?

I have long misremembered Roxette's "The Look" as being a cover of U Got The Look. It's not, but Prince definitely should have got some cut of their royalties. This is the song on the album that sounds most like it could have come out during the Revolution era. I love it.

The synth riff of Superfunkcalifragisexy waterfalls out of the previous track. This might be the best combination of surreal lyric Prince and funk synth Prince. The first person that touches you / you want to fuck. Ok, Prince, we get it, you dropped some E before you went out dancing. You'll be fine. Just don't forget to drink some water.

So ... I don't really want to talk about Lovesexy. It's the first Prince album that bored me. But there are a few tracks worth saving. I've put them all in a row here. First off is When Two R In Love. It's a basic Prince ballad but has some nice echoey chorus parts, and he's got the falsetto / baritone melody mix on point on this track.

Positivity, the concept is what killed Lovesexy for me. But the song is catchy, and I enjoy the weird metronomic synth beat and how it balances the screeching background guitars. Someone starts pouring water over the end, and drops a few synth riffs before a warm spacey vibe falls over the track, and

the dark riff of Eye No briefly falls before Prince announces that he's drug-free, and it's an all sunshine and rainbows song falsettos in, and Prince drops the name of the (not included in this discography) album a few times, while discussing how he's been avoiding The Devil.  Mmmmmhmmmm. Right.

The previous song fades out with conversations and religious zealotry before being interrupted by Prince screeching No before launching into Alphabet Street, which sounds a bit like the theme song to a kid's show about stealing cars, voyeurism, and being sexy, which is a Terrible Idea for a kid's show. Prince Roger's Neighborhood would have definitely been cancelled before the second episode.

Ok, that's more than enough Lovesexy, time to get back to a killer fuzzy funk riff with Hot Thing.  The vocal blend on this track is fire.

In case you wanted a primer on how Prince thinks people should fuck, I've included Slow Love as the penultimate track.

We close the album with Prince claiming I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man. It sounds like Mature Prince is telling someone he's not good enough to be their lover, but it's actually Prince being a cad to some woman whose partner left her. I may be qualified for a one night stand / But I could never take the place of your manis an honest sentiment but he's otherwise not very compassionate here. But why end on compassion? This is an album about how his religion and his sex are interfering with each other, so let's end with him doing the morally proper thing, while still being kind of a jerk, and not getting any.

While my conversation with Billy Tuggle inspired me to rethink which albums I held sacred, the post that got me to re-edit and post about my Reimagined Prince discography was Scott Woods ruminating on whether or not he would sacrifice the existence of Sign O' The Times so that the world could have had Prince's Camille album.

I am not trying to answer that hypothetical question. It just inspired me to think, "What would Sign O' The Times be if Camille already existed?"

Controversy is the name I've given the Camille album because it's Filthy. Not as Filthy as the early New Power Generation era Prince, but definitely more sexual than his previous albums, which were already mostly about sex. His actual Controversy album is good. I just didn't get to it early enough in my musical education to be enamored by it.

Most of this version of this album has Prince pitching up his voice. The idea is that it's more feminine? I don't hear that. It just sounds unnatural to me. I'm not a big fan of pitch correction, but the instrumentation on this album (which is not pitched up) and the writing is so good that I can get around the false eccentricity of the vocals. I get, artistically, why Prince made the decision but his voice is one of the best pop funk voices of all-time, and I would have rather had his natural voice. Still, as Scott Woods said, "The Camille album SLAPS HARD." And I'm here for it, though I've added some tracks that I thought fit on to the album, either because he used the same vocal trick, or because they're exactly the right kind of dirty for this album.

I also love the idea of a universe where this precise album is what he released as a follow up to Purple Rain.

You may have noticed with my Prince Reimaginings, and my U2 reimaginings that I like an album that builds slowly and then crashes into a banger, either part way through the first track, or in the transition to the second track. But there are certain albums that need to start with a bang, and this is one of them, so I'm keeping with the Camille track listing, and starting this with Rebirth Of The Flesh. In addition to the weird vocals, this album goes in with grungey funk starting with the very first chord. The song also includes what I consider the album's non-sexual thesis: We're not here for the money / We're here to play. He's Prince, man. He's using the royal we here.

I'm already diverging from Camille with the second track. The first Prince song I heard with the pitched up vocals was Crystal Ball. The song is the spiritual successor to "Computer Blue". It's super duper long. It's got some excellent guitar work. It's got spacey effects. It has unusual vocals. For some reason, whenever I hear, in my head, Expert lover / my baby / ya ever had a crystal ball, my brain follows it up with they call it Nutbush / oh Nutbush / Nutbush City limits. It's because of where the vocals fit on the track that it evokes Tina Turner's classic, but part of my brain deeply enjoys the testicular connection between "Crystal Ball" and "Nutbush". But, like, I hope to never experience a person with the combination of those two things.

Housequake is a high school marching band percussionist's dream. It's a hard dancey jam with silly lyrics. I enjoy playful Prince, and he is clearly having fun on this track.

It's not hard to imagine "Batdance" somewhere on this album. And while I loved that track when it came out, it's not quite what I'm looking for anywhere in this discography. On the other hand, Scandalous is a lovely cooling off song after the first three banger/steamers. It has Prince singing with falsetto instead of up-pitch but I think it provides a needed pause, and the drums are totally in-line with the percussion on the rest of this album. And when he dips out of falsetto for the super low baby, I get the damned chills.

Whipping out of that ballad is the upbeat Good Love. This almost feels like a dirty precursor to "Starfish & Coffee". Also, it's the best thing that includes in the heat of the night that doesn't involve Carroll O'Connor or Sidney Poitier. This is also some of his finest surreal imagery sex lyrics. Technicolor children in Picadilly Square / Whisper words, erotica, when you kiss me there  / Gustav Mahler number three is jamming on the box  / I'll have another glass of you, this time on the rocks is perfection.

Back to the grunge funk we go with If I Was Your Girlfriend. As someone who has had some terrible boyfriends, I would never want Prince as a boyfriend or girlfriend. Dude is textbook bad at relationships. The scenario he lays out in this song, that he wasn't a good boyfriend to this woman, so he'd rather be her close friend, but ponders what she would allow him to do if they were just girlfriends. He does dip back into his stalker mode in this song, but the way he approaches it, it's ... SLIGHTLY less creepy.

Erotic City was the b-side to "Let's Go Crazy" from Purple Rain. I think it's the earliest incarnation of his Camille character. It's interesting to hear this character playing with The Revolution. It's not too different from the music he recorded mostly by himself. It is, of course, filthy. More synthy than any of the previous songs, but I still think it fits.

The title track, Controversy bubbles out of "Erotic City". But I don't just include it because it's eponymous to this album. It's part of my "If this album dropped immediately after Purple Rain, how would people react?" theory. He'd need this song as a bit of an explanation. And a second single. It almost doesn't matter what the first single would be, but this would have to be the follow up. I mean, did he seriously just work The Lord's Prayer into THIS song? O........k. And is it followed up by a rap where he wishes to be nude, and that all people were food? So, like, we are our own daily bread? Eat of my body, bitches, because every human is delicious? Ok, Prince. Pass the salt you purple weirdo.

Ooooh, we're back to the Batman soundtrack. Partyman has the up-pitch vocals that are so familiar on this album. And it has a similar message to Controversy (apart from the sexual cannibalism suggestion). It's a nice, short, little bridge from "Controversy" to

Shockadelica, which comes in on the drums and sexual howling tip. Are the lyrics to the chorus seriously Doo-bee-doo-bee, yeah, Shockadelica / Shockadelica  / Doo-bee-doo-bee, Shockadelica? Is this a dream or is this real?

Another earlier track, Do Me Baby is falsettotown. with a wicked spare flick of the funk guitar. I like this song, but the title always makes me want to listen to some Bell Biv Devoe. What can I say? I like to do the wild thing.

Prince is not, and has never been a very good rapper. Now, there are going to be some tracks with rapping two albums later in the discography, but rapping will be handled by New Power Generation's Tony M, who is much better at it. The thing is, Prince is a phenomenal singer, but his rapping is completely forgettable. Irresistable Bitch is pretty much the only example of his rapping that I can listen to. It is absolutely, in no way, Woke. It is, in fact, super misogynist. But, I like to imagine he's using "bitch" like a catty 90s homosexual sitcom character. I mean, he sort of is a catty 90s homosexual xharacter. Fun fact: when I heard this song as a kid I thought his muttering of everybody / everybody was saying I farted . I farted. I thought that was very brave of him.

While we're in the super misogynist Prince mode, here's Scarlet Pussey, in which the pitching of the narration makes him sound like Anthony Bourdain for some reason. I'm sure someone has already mashed this up with the visuals from that awful Cats trailer that's been making the rounds this week. It syncs up beautifully.

When I was eleven, one of my neighbors was a slightly younger kid who was constantly, literally showing me his ass. A dude who totally grew up to be straight. A straight wrestling fan who hosts gossipy celebrity tv shows and podcasts, and does red carpet interviews where he frequently says "Meeeeeee-ow" (no, he's not actually famous). TOTALLY STRAIGHT. He used to always sing parts of Strange Relationship after exposing himself to me. And I had no context for it. I don't think I heard the song until the 21st century. But I can't hear the song without thinking of his face, now, and Baby I just can't stand to see you happy / More than that I hate to see you sad.

Feel U Up has a great funk riff. It makes up for the sort of limp sexuality to this song. Like "I want to feel you up" is for eight graders and incels. It should be way beneath Prince, based on all of his other songs. I think I would like this song more if it were instrumental, but I'll take it as is. But if you sang this to me, sincerley asking let me feel your body baby  / let me feel you up, the answer is a definitive Hell No.

Girls & Boys is another song that features The Revolution, and wildly predates this album, but Prince often went back to the vault for later albums, and the vocals on this have the up-pitch quality, and it's too weird a song for any other of his albums in this discography.

Closing out the album is actually the closing track from the Camille album, Rockhard In A Funky Place. It starts pop funky with the up-pitch vocals, and ends with the very appropriate fade in question What the fuck kind of ending was that?

A year or so, I was mentioning something about my reimagined discographies, and the subject of Prince came up, and I said something along the lines of "Well, I have a few Prince albums that I've reimagined, but I also have Purple Rain, and that's untouchable." And Billy Tuggle replied with something along the lines of  "Really, bro? Untouchable?"

And he was so right. Unlike most of my Prince mixes, this isn't a repiecing of two or three albums into one steady flow, this is a fleshing out. Purple Rain is a fantastic album. But could it flow better if you added a couple of the b-sides to it? Hell. Yes.

I know this is sacrilege. I know that diehard Prince fans KNOW that "Let's Go Crazy" is the perfect start to an album. And those people will always and forever have the actual releases of Purple Rain to prove how right they will always be. But I love listening to croony religious Prince sing about God while he alternates between falsetto and screeching. Fluctuating vocal Prince is my favorite Prince, and this is a great way to draw people in. See, he's singing about Christianity, but, like, in an inclusive way. None of your Nazi-sympathizing, National Anthem defending, constantly spouting the word "illegals", piece of shit Uncle Bernard's selective Christianity bullshit. And the song ends with Who screamed? / Was it you?

So, of course, we fade in to the end of the previous track with a scream of When Doves Cry. I'm sure there are bad versions of this song, but I have been fortunate enough to avoid them. This is one of the most perfect blends of Prince, synth, and guitars that he recorded in the 80s. There's not much to say about it. I mean, you've heard it, right? And if you haven't, why are you reading about Prince? Go listen to this song.

Climbing out of Prince's lamenting of crying doves is the peppy Take Me With You. It's a perfect radio pop single. And Prince continues to mature in his love song methodology. Ok, it's a bit beggy, but that's way better than stalkey. Although, who is this person he's so in love with that has their own mansion? I mean, if you've got a mansion, you can take Prince and me, too, right? Like, surely there are enough bedrooms for all of us.

On the original album, "Take Me With You" flows into The Beautiful Ones, and this is absolutely the correct choice. We need desperate Prince screeching his larynx out about how much he needs You. Yes, you. He needs you! Baby, baby, baby, baby / he wants you / woo!  Sometimes the direct approach is best.

Billy Tuggle's original suggestion, when I thought Purple Rain was untouchable, was to check out the extended cut of Computer Blue. I'm sure Billy Tuggle has been wrong at least once or twice in his life, but this was not one of those times. It is worth every one of its thirteen minutes and fifteen seconds. The guitar solos are insane. The effects are fantastic. Lisa and Wendy's vocals. are. appropriately. robotic. And Prince continues to get his squeal on. So, ok, maybe Prince was listening to too much Rush when he conceived of this track, but it was totally worth it.

Out of the maddening riff and effects of "Computer Blue" cuts through a familiar strum. Take out your lighters, Purple Rain comes much earlier on this version of the album. I will forever imagine him when he played this during the Superbowl in the actual (not actually purple) rain. Like he ordered the weather, and it had no chance but to obey. I know this is two long-ass tracks back to back. But I wouldn't cut a second from either of them.

The tinkly piano outro and the violins and cheering crowd (though this isn't really a live version) get rolled in with the opening riffs and tinkly synth of 17 Days. The song is catchy enough that you can ignore sadboy Prince, sitting in his room, lamenting that somebody has done left him again. Instead of being all weepy about it, he's at that phase where he gives short answers to his friends and sighs a lot. It's like he knows he's been so melodramatic around his friends that he's got to be as chill as possible, while still establishing that he has been sad for seventeen days now. (Also, it's still raining.)

The organ pierces the fade. Minister Prince enters. The sermon is ready. Let's Go Crazy motherfuckers.

Darling Nikki is the first time in this discography that Prince engages in slut priding instead of slut shaming. Nikki is so good at sex, even Prince has to give her an "oh damn".

I Would Die For You continues the blend of desperate Prince who really really wants to fuck you, and the Prince who is learning how to talk like an adult about relationships. Also, continuity alert: turns out, PRINCE IS A DOVE! I mean, we know he cries. This changes ... well, nothing actually. But it's a perfect bridge into the final track, Baby, I'm A Star. Turns out We are all a star. That's a great note to go out on.

My first exposure to Prince was in my rich-ass uncle's third or fourth house. It was on Cape Cod. He had helicoptered in from somewhere, and a couple of my cousins and I each got a chance to take a ride in the helicopter. It was overfuckenwhelming. And hot. It was scorching hot. Very similar to today.

My cousins, who are about a decade older than me, were laying on the carpet in the basement, listening to music. Specifically "Raspberry Beret" and "1999" which they kept rewinding to listen to again. And I know they were talking to me about what the songs meant, but I don't remember anything they said. I just remember the music. I had only hear snippets of it before. And it would be another decade before I owned a Prince album, but I knew something about his music was important. Like a helicopter ride.

A piano flutters. Nothing 70s AM radio here. This could be now. The vocals hit, and it's unmistakably Prince, somewhere between crooning and croaking his heartbreak in Condition Of The Heart. He's no longer faking poverty. He's got some serious cash now, but it hasn't got him the love he's searching for. So he's going to duet with himself, like two Broadway actors lamenting being left by the same person. It's excellent harmonic work.

The drums kick in.  1. 2. 1. 2. 3. Paisley Park is mostly vocal doubling and sparse guitar. It's a place to go to overcome heartbreak. And it's ... in your heart. These lyrics would be garbage with 70s Prince. But 80s Prince has a soft steel saber where you and I have a larynx. There is nothing weak about his falsetto bursts.

Summer synths in. Younger Prince would be thrilled that he had a woman who's loving him back. But this slightly more mature Prince feels like his love is moving too fast in Little Red Corvette. Oh shit, what if this love he's been searching for is too much for him? The build to the you must be a limousine screech is a perfect pop moment in any decade.

Oh, is the new Prince trope going to be that love is not enough for him? She's Always In My Hair suggests no. His love doesn't give him any breathing room, but her presence is good for him, and he knows it. This is a massive step forward for The Purple One. A lot of personal growth. A filthy little bass line. Synth pushed to the background.

Don't worry / Prince won't hurt you / He only wants you / to have some fun. If you don't want to dance along with 1999. I can't help you. Dez Dickerson, Lisa Coleman, and Jill Jones join a deliberately disjointed vocal split. This song would go on to chart twice for Prince. Once in the early 80s, and again on the eve of 1999. It is both one of his peak hits, and his final big hit. The transition from chanting party to mommy / why does everybody have a bomb is one very few artists could or would ever try to pull off.

A filthy guitar lick. A falsetto scat. Temptation. This little Prince thinks a lot about you, see? He's gone from being a creepy youngin trying to get your number to the guy on stage, spitting fire. Effortlessly bouncing from classic rock vocals to talking to screeching falsetto to the low timbres of a laugh. Holy fuck does he sing the hell into this song, and the guitar is scorching right there with him. The piano and saxophone at the end aren't even fair. You have to want it for the right reasons / I do / You don't / Now die. And let's screech the hell out of here with some piano flourishes. Now I understand . love is more important than sex. Bite your tongue, mature Prince.

Everybody is looking for The Ladder. The classic R&B formula of a low voice talking over a trio of female background singers that soars into the lead singer and the trio echoing the lyrics off each other works beautifully here. It's somehow very 1950s, 1970s, 1980s, and right now.

Pop Life funks in on a slick bass. Mature Prince has some questions for Young Prince. I think it's the first time he plainly uses the term addiction to describe his lifestyle. Something he's going to struggle with in his lyrics for decades to come. We're going to let this track fade out naturally.

Tinkle of funk. Drum machine beat. Falsetto. Kiss. A list of things you don't have to be for Prince to love you. He's all about just spending time and kissing you right now. If you don't love this song, I'm not sure why you're reading anything that even contains the word Prince. Even disgraced royalty sing this song in the shower.

Marching feet stomp us into more falsetto and soap opera intro piano. An anthem about being glad you're Free is a tough sell these days when mostly old, mostly white Americans and British people shout about freedom while being racist as fuck, and trying to limit the rights of anyone not in their tax bracket. This song could be a hella dog whistle.

And now some lovely revisionist history. A song about Young Prince losing his virginity and being great at it. A lot of string instruments and a drum machine serve as the background to the featured player, the Raspberry Beret. I like this version of Prince, so hot that when an amazing looking woman comes in, she trows herself at him for consensual sex, more than the whiney wannabe rape machine of the previous album.

A metronome bass continues Prince's crooning about fucking portion of the album. While "Raspberry Beret" is an entirely different approach to singing about fucking than Prince used on the first album, Girl is the same methodology and images he used on the first album but the creepiness is toned way down. Oh, it's still there, but it's at Well Intended Member Of The Patriarchy Creepy not Standing Outside Your House With A Boombox And A Machete Creepy.

Is Prince qualified to be singing all these songs about how great at teh sex he is? Well he is a certified International Lover, according to himself. A 1950s style chorus announces that he's going to buy her diamonds and pearls, even though he hasn't even written that album yet. What a swell, guy. What a constantly swelled guy. When I say his voice is pure sex on this song, I mean he is definitely doing his damnedest to sound like he's getting his freak on while he was recording this song. The pilot announcement portion of the song is so over-the-top, it should be a space shuttle pilot announcement.

Picking things back up is the relentless drum and sparse synth of Something In The Water (Does Not Compute) rolls us back to Prince being super sad that not every girl he wants to put his penis in wants his penis. It's better produced and catchier than the attempts from the first album but he does finally come out and call a woman a bitch for not bowing down to his purple cock. If "Free" could be a white Supremacist anthem, this could definitely have Mens' Rights Activists standing up and holding their MAGA hats over their hearts.

Let's get the fuck out of that and have some peppy Hellos sprinkled around us. Keyboards abound. Prince wants you to know he is Capital F FAMOUS but wants to help others and make the world a better place. These lyrics could have been written by Bono. But the music is good god damn.

The drumbeats roll us right into Automatic. He's still an addict. He's still in love. He still wants to kiss you. And wants to kiss you. And forgive you. And kiss you. You ask me if I'll kiss you, it's automatic / And if you cry, me cry, boo-hoo, that's automatic too, ooh may be his worst lyrics in the 1980s, and fuck him for pulling it off.

Creeping out beneath the synths is a piano riff and drum machine beat that could only mean we're going Under The Cherry Moon. Poor unloved Prince is now going to just die because he's so special and loves you so much that he's like a hero  for wanting to kiss you a special way. The piano is the real hero in this song. I would let it kiss me. But no tongue. I know where Prince's fingers have been.

Back to keyboards! And funk! DMSR gives us a great slut shaming sexy dance song. I may have put this on the album by accident. I thought it was gonna be one of those Youtube videos where somebody slowly pulls things out of their purse, or slows a belch down so that a two second clip takes nine minutes. Turns out that's ASMR. My bad. "DMSR" is Dance Music Sexy Romance. Prince ... Prince ... I'd say he was better than this, but it's not too long before he names an entire album Lovesexy. The drum / synth combination into the funk riff near the end make this track worthwhile.

Time to get weeeeeeeepy, y'all. Sometimes It Snows In April is just a straight up beautiful ballad. It has to be the final track because, my god, what do you follow this up with?

I was nine or ten the first time I heard a Prince song. Some age where it was something I might have heard out of a car radio or at a friend's house, but not something my parents were listening to. Apart from records and cassettes from the fifties and sixties, and some Disney records for me (raise your hand if you ever Mousercized), the only album from the actual 1980s that we had in our house before I discovered the box of cassettes full of U2 and hair metal at a YMCA Camp, was Michael Jackson's "Thriller".

The next post will deal with my first exposure to Prince. And then I'll talk about coming way late in the game to his most famous album, and then how a middle school dance got me into the filthy stuff. But his early stuff? Not until I was in my late thirties.

Maybe because I was born at the tail end of it, I've never liked the sound of AM radio soft rock and R&B. I can enjoy a song or two from that era, but after about three songs, I'm out. It takes effort to listen to Simon & Garfunkel, even though I genuinely love their music.

To me, early Prince is just funk music trying to bust out of AM radio. I like it. It works. But rarely am I in the mood to listen to it. It's in that Before My Time era where nobody I spent a lot of time with was nostalgic for it, and I just prefer 80s and 90s Prince. But that's not to say there isn't a great album to be made from his 70s and very early 80s output.

The first track off of Prince's first album, For You, is a perfect Intro To Religious Prince. Like, how did anyone not foresee his religious conversion coming? Sure, the man was Filthy! But, also, so much of his music owes itself to Christian spiritual influence. While this song may just be about Prince's desire to share his music with the world, it sounds like something an acapella choir would perform to let Jesus know that all of their art is for his emaciated, loin cloth wearing ass. It's a sweet, soft, lilting welcome song.

So let's fuck it right up as soon as possible. Gotta Stop (Messing Around) gives us a perfect 70s funk riff for Prince to be a judgmental prick about someone's sexuality. And, ok, it's probably himself that he's casting shade on, but it's still a judgey song for someone who's going to spend most of his career singing about fucking. But I love the Devo-like synth happening near the end of the track. And once he says stop, it's over.

When I was in my mid-twenties and living in Burlington Vermont, I worked with a Good Christian Girl, whose father owned the company I worked for. She was super proud that she was a virgin, and was going to stay that way until marriage, but she would always talk about the guys she gave head to, and how much she loved to do anal. This amused the hell out of me. I imagine Prince having a similar interaction, and coming up with Head, which sounds like a really good early 70s funk song that happens to be about a bride-to-be who loves going down and being gone down upon. And Prince claims to be just the man to lick her away from her impending groom.

Do you like spacey adolescent Bowie, but wish his music was more about fucking? Sister is Prince's fucked up, incest ideation. I had really hoped, when I heard this the first time, that Prince was an only child. But he has four sisters. I bet this song creeps them the hell out.

Let's move away from filthy lyrics to a filthy guitar riff. Something more Van Halen than Bootsy Collins. The whole homophobic it's better to be with a man delivered to a woman hasn't aged well. And the last verse and couplet of Bambi are gross in a much different way than "Sister". I just imagine both of these songs are persona work from the perspective of someone Prince never liked.

Now we're slowing back down to the AM radio bullshit. When We're Dancing Close And Slow is so 70s croony that it irritates me. My enjoyment of this song is all spite. The breathy vocals, the "I love you in a non-threatening way baby" vibe, though, makes me laugh, as he sings about how he wants to share his feelings with the woman he's whispering to. Oh, and he wants to come inside her. Can't you feel his love touching you? The moral of the song is: Don't dance with Prince if you don't want him poking you with his dick and leaking precum on you. So, maybe don't dance with Prince at all.

I only knew I Feel For You as a Chaka Khan song until the late 90s. I had no idea it was written by Prince, or that he recorded it first. Despite the rise of the feelings-oriented folk singing man of the 1970s, I think it says a lot that this song only won a Grammy when it was sung by a woman. I do think Chaka Khan's version is superior, with its added rap elements, and her name said roughly four billion times like a 1980s Jason Derulo. Also, if her video was any more 1984 (the year, not the Orwell book) it would just be Q*Bert spinning on a Rubik's cube with a fade (Yes, the Rubik's Cube has the fade not Q*Bert, I don't know why that's important, but it is). I might only enjoy the Prince song because I'm nostalgic for Khan's version.

There is a certain sound that I associate with sitcom intros from the 1970s and early 1980s. And that's the driving riff of Soft And Wet. I can just picture Tom Hanks in drag, entering a series of rooms to this song. Or Richard Mulligan looking beleaguered after accidentally knocking over a house of cards. I mean the song is all about fucking, but it sounds like it's a forgettable pop song about nothing.

When You Were Mine is another song that I didn't realize was Prince until much later. I grew up listening to the Cyndi Lauper cover, which isn't much different. Also, I was much older before I realized Cyndi Lauper was a cover artist. Like, all her hits except for "Time After Time" were first recorded by other people. Like "I Feel For You", I enjoy this more out of nostalgia for the version I grew up with. But it's still a solid tune.

The first real hint at what's coming in the future is Partyup, which is another song that starts out as just a generic 70s synth song about seemingly nothing. But instead of being all about fucking, it's about not wanting to go to war and kill people. I like to imagine it's Prince's subtle dig that he doesn't want to ever be some Billy Joel getting famous for singing about a war he didn't actually fight in. The ending cavalcade is an interesting precursor to the end of "1999".

Rising out of "Partyup" is In Love. Look, baby, Prince really wants to fuck you. Has he not been clear? He really wants to "play in your river" and other creepy nonsense that is radio subtle for "let's fuck". Sure, he talks about he's falling deeper in love with you and can't live without you, but the only deeper Prince wants involves penetration. Make sure he wears a condom because young Prince could get it. And seemingly did get it on an incredibly regular basis. There is almost definitely a strain of gonorrhea named after him.

Oh, hey, did you know Prince wants to fuck you, baby? Well he does. And he wants it to a disco beat in I Wanna Be Your Lover. In this version of the story, he's poor and doesn't want to pressure you. He doesn't want to pressure you, but he is going to follow you around singing songs about how he'd totally be the best at fucking you. But no pressure. He just wants to be your mother and your sister. So, in many ways, this is the antithesis to Madonna's "Justify My Love", even though both songs are trying to rip your clothes off and throw you on their almost definitely uncomfortable bed.

Not only does Prince wanna be your lover, he also wants to Do It All Night, which was how I talked about sex when I was fourteen and not having any. This song is almost identical to "I Feel For You" but with a cool upbeat synth riff breaking through every once in a while. Once again, Prince is talking about how the other men trying to get with you aren't as good at The Sex as he is. Yea, yea. I see what you're saying Prince, will you get out of my driveway? I need to get to work.

Christ, are you still here Prince? Just As Long As We're Together. Can I guess what this song is about? Is it about how you're going to please your woman and be respectful of her. And also about how you're going to be fucking all the time? I. am. shocked.

Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad seems to hint that there is finally some karma for Prince Hormones. Look, Prince. She's not your girlfriend. This relationship you have with her where you're going to get married and fuck all the time in a river or whatever? It's all in your head. If she wanted to fuck you, she would have fucked you. Take your pre-incel sadness to your bedroom and work it out with your hands. Leave. her. alone. She's not treating you bad, you're being a creepy stalker.

Wrapping up this tale of Creepy Prince the Wannabe Sex Addict (who, in real life, was almost definitely getting all the flesh he wanted), is Gotta Broken Heart Again, which he fucken deserves based on the narrative of this album. He spent all his money on a long distance phone call / begging someone who was not his girlfriend to come back to him. It's a shame he didn't grow up in The Age Of The Internet, he could have saved himself a bunch of money. I also love that the album ends with there ain't nothing left to say.

Songs Of Innocence is the worst thing U2 has ever done. Far more self-indulgent than Passengers, the idea of the now 50-something Bono singing about being a teenager and getting into music could either be amazing or terrible. It wasn't amazing.

When it was given, for free, to anyone with an iTunes account, very few people were happy about it. Iggy Pop mentioned that Bono was "giving away music before it can flop, in an effort to stay huge."

While I haven't loved every album U2 has ever put out, this was the first one that I listened to and couldn't remember a single thing about a single song. Like most of the people this album was inflicted on, I forgot about it completely until the release of their next album, when I decided to see if there was anything salvagable. And there is. Between the two albums, there is a single album's worth of story that I'm interested in.

When Bono and / or U2 team up with rappers, it usually doesn't go well. Not as bad as KRS-One & REM's woeful "Radio Song", but Bono & Wyclef's "New Day" definitely didn't make this discography. But, somehow, the Kendrick Lamar / U2 combination delights me. American Soul is a great start to the album, mostly because of Lamar's intro. I've said this many times about 21st century U2 lyrics: they're stupid. In this case, they seem to be falling back on the worst part of Rattle & Hum, trying to make a statement about America without actually saying anything.

Summer Of Love is a sweet ditty about the Syrian Civil War. Sometimes describing U2 songs makes my brain hurt.

If you liked The Beach Boys' "Barbara Ann", you might be puzzled by why U2 has stolen it for California (There Is No End To Love). It's a weird choice, but after the absolute blandness of most of the Songs Of Innocence album, I'm ok with weird choices.

XXX is actually a Kendrick Lamar song with U2 reprising the hook from "American Soul". I like it as a callback. Also, Kendrick Lamar was producing more interesting music in 2018 than U2 was.

Bono singing about singing is a tired trope in U2 lyrics. Yea, Bono, you're a singer. WE KNOW. He does it again in The Showman. The song is means to be self-depricating, but at this point in the band's career, when they've been doing self-depricating songs about performing for over twenty years, it's a tough sell. But I do like the chorus. And I cut about a minute out of it.

Trouble is one of the few songs saved from the culling of Songs Of Innocence. Lykke Li's vocals are much of the reason why. Technically, the name of this song is "The Troubles" but I never head the s in troubles so I've been mistitling it since it came out. I'm not fixing it now.

The production on the intro, and the jangly The Joshua Tree era guitars are most of the reason why Raised By Wolves also makes it off of Songs Of Innocence. The story about a carbombing in Dublin when Bono was a teen is brought home by him calling out the license plate of the car used to set the bomb.

The Little Things That Give You Away is highly edited, and is the beginning of what's essentially one long medley of tracks about lightness and dark. My version of this album, Sometimes, takes its title from the refrain in the second half of this song.

Another ... song ... about ... how Bono ... loves ... his wife. *prolonged sigh* Song For Someone continues the light and dark medley and sets up a chorus refrain for later in the medley.

Blackout is the first actual rocking song from the album that isn't actually a Kendrick Lamar song. It's the first track I heard from their most recent album, and, apart from the very silly Paul Simon-esque "50 Ways To Leave Your Lover" name inclusion, I quite like it. This is part of the album they retooled to reflect Brexit and Trump. It's not as stinging as it hopes it is.

Almost dying is terrifying. The Lights Of Home do draw you, mothlike, to Bono's experience in a way most of his recent songs don't, as he sings about wanting to stay alive for his family. There's also a killer sample from Haim's "My Song 5".

Get Out Of Your Own Way brings back the heartbeat drums from "Beautiful Day" helping to reinforce the feeling that this whole album is a coda for the band. If No Line On The Horizon was a reprise of their 80s output, Sometimes is a reprise of their 21st century output. I'm sad there isn't an analogue for their 90s catalogue.

Closing out the medley is There Is A Light, which brings back the chorus from "Song For Someone" and continues the whole light/dark motif.

Red Flag Day is a poppy song about ... the Syrian Refugee crisis ? What the fuck, Bono? It's a catchy song that I didn't fully examine until this post. What an odd tone for the song.

Love Is Bigger Than Anything In Its Way is a nice closer for this U2 discography. It's an All That You Can't Leave Behind style anthem that could close out a concert, "40" style, with the audience singing the "oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhh-oh" part as the band leaves the stage.

That's it. That's as far as U2 has gone so far. And there's some speculation that Songs Of Experience is the final full U2 album. I think that would be fine. But I'll be here, ready to see what's worth listening to from any future releases.

Every album U2 has released since the turn of the millennium have touted the album as " a return to the classic sound". As if Achtung Baby, Zooropa, and Pop were So Terrible that the only way U2 could redeem themselves would be to go back and release another The Joshua Tree. I enjoy that their best 21st century work (which is much fewer and far between than their 90s output) is instrumentation that you can imagine from the 1980s but engineering and production techniques that they learned in the 90s.

All that said, No Line On The Horizon could absolutely be the album that followed The Joshua Tree, and that would be great.

I mentioned in the description of All That You Can't Leave Behind that the best intro track U2 has done in the 21st century was "Vertigo", but City Of Blinding Lights, which I've used as the first track for this reimagined album, is the most "Where The Streets Have No Name" song U2 have created in twenty years. It's not derivative, it just has the same basic structure. And I love it.

There are four different songs that went into the creation of Fez (Being Born), and they come together to form a very Unforgettable Fire style song, with the let me hear the sound motif being laid down for a later appearance on the album. 

If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight is the type of 21st century pop rock ballad U2 have been continuously writing. I think this is their greatest success at that attempt. The lyrics are the generic bumper sticker wisdom that Bono has been jotting down since Achtung Baby but it doesn't feel as stilted as it often did on All That You Can't Leave Behind.

I heard a different mix of Breathe at some point before No Line On The Horizon came out, and I did Not enjoy it. But they apparently remixed it "80 times" during the album's creation. Well, good work. I much prefer the album version of the song. The guitar and the bass line are all Achtung Baby, the piano is very October, and the vocals are super All That You Can't Leave Behind.

Bono's favorite lyrics from Miracle Drug are freedom has the scent / like the top of a newborn baby's head. I think that speaks a lot to why I prefer the music of latter-day U2 to their lyrics. The story behind the song is actually extremely cool, but I didn't know about that until after I finished typing the last sentence. It's about a kid they went to school with who was paraplegic. When doctors discovered a drug that allowed him to move one muscle in his neck, they created a device that attached to his head that allowed him to type. He then became an acclaimed poet. I like the song, but wish it was as cool as the story behind it.

I put a super abbreviated version of Smile, as I do enjoy one of the verses, but it's mostly just repetitive and cloying. So I've fixed that.

When I did a different version of this album a few years ago, I accidentally included Standup Comedy and not "If I Don't Get Crazy" because I'd confused them in my head. It was a happy accident, as I've grown to like the 70s lofi rock style of the chorus.

Magnificent is straight up my favorite song from 21st century U2. It was their second single from the album, and I had Loathed "Get On Your Boots", I feared the album was going to be terrible, but then FNX started playing this track, and I was relieved. I adore the fuzzy guitar info, and the lyrics. Yes, they're still self-help bumper stickery, but my first cry / it was a joyful noise totally won me over.

Original Of The Species is a nice cool-down song after "Magnificent". If I were to do another pass at editing this album, I would chop this in half, as I love the instrumentation, but the lyrics are totally forgettable.

Similar to "Magnificent", when I heard the intro to All Because Of You, I was hooked. The lyrics make me laugh. I like the sound of my own voice (we know Bono, we know) / I didn't give anyone else a choice (say more) / an intellectual tor-toise (what?)

Unknown Caller could have easily been from The Unforgettable Fire. Its lyrics are not great, but I enjoy the sound of the vocals over the track.

Neon Lights just sounds like it was made to bridge "Unknown Caller" to the next track. I enjoy its brevity. I had no idea it was a Kraftwerk cover until I started researching this reimagined album.

The Hands That Built America should never have been a single. I imagined it was used well in Gangs Of New York, but I've never had any desire to see it. This is another track that I'd edit further if I were going to redo this album.

The soaring chorus of Always is the highlight of the song. Another recut of this album, and this track would just be bridge/chorus/bridge/chorus without the underwhelming verses.

The unexpected duet with Green Day to cover The Skids's The Saints Are Coming as well as the folk song "The House Of The Rising Sun" was a song I never knew I wanted. I enjoy the combination of the band, even if it's somewhat surprising to me that Green Days guitars would be the driving force of the song, and not The Edge's.

I mentioned how much I loathed Get On Your Boots when it was released as the lead-in single to the album. It's maybe the stupidest song they've recorded. But I've drastically cut it, so that it's mostly a one minute song to bring back the let me hear the sound refrain. And the guitar is fuzzy and great.

The title track, No Line On The Horizon has Bono earnestly screeching the lyrics with a little wooooah wooooah wooooah wooooah that makes me smile.

Another contender for "This could have been released on The Unforgettable Fire" is Moment Of Surrender. The wailing vocals here, make for an interesting tilt to this album, as Bono's voice starts the album in his playful occasional falsetto pop style but it becomes increasingly desperate as the album goes on. He really wants you to listen to his lyrics as the album gets ... not deeper per se ... further.

"Moment Of Surrender" fades perfectly into White As Snow, a simple, almost country song. But about snow. I'm no expert on country music, but off the top of my head, I can't think of any country song that involve snow, unless they're Christmas covers.

On another album One Step Closer could be a closer. But I enjoy that it is the title of the penultimate song.

Choose your enemies carefully, 'cause they will define you /Make them interesting 'cause in some ways they will mind you / They're not there in the beginning but when your story ends /Gonna last with you longer than your friends is a great close to the album. The subdued "Sunday Bloody Sunday" drumbeat in the background, and the sample of Brian Eno and Harold Budd's "Against The Sky" make The Cedars Of Lebanon a haunting lullaby about war. It would have been an interesting final ever U2 track. They could have gone out, artistically if not commercially, as relevant and fondly remembered as any band could hope for. Unfortunately, they followed this up with the free iTunes album that will be very, very briefly touched on during the final installment of the U2 Reimagined Discography.

I have a friend who was also a huge U2 fan in the late 90s, and slowly cooled off in the 21st century. The kind of friend who, the first time we hung out, overheard me turning down plans with another person by saying "Sorry, I have a friend visiting." and asked, mostly sincerely, "We're friends now?" The two of us saw U2 during what must have been the second leg of their No Line On The Horizon tour. We weren't whelmed. It was no fault of the band. The venue we saw them at was terrible. The sound was atrocious, and we barely got their in time, due to traffic.

This friend claims that All That You Can't Leave Behind is the last album they enjoy. Though they enjoy it semi-ironically.

I actually think most of All That You Can't Leave Behind is ... not very good. U2's return to their old style of playing was overdue, but it came out too sentimental to me. There were some songs I loved, a few I liked, and some I never listen to. In contrast, there are a bunch of songs on How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb that I never listen to, a couple that I like, and a few that I love.

Therefore, this album is actually a combination of those two albums, plus some non-album tracks. There will be no How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb in this discography, but fear not, as you'll see from the first couple of tracks, some of the album did survive.

Vertigo is the best 21st century opening song U2 has come up with. Sure, it got way overplayed, since it was iTunes's theme song for 2005. They even made a red U2-filled iPod, which I would have bought except ... I already had all those songs on my iPod. Some of Vertigo's lyrics are somewhat silly but the second verse is killer, and I love Edge's guitar work on this clear improvement of "Elevation".

Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own is another song that's actually from How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb. I enjoy the whole song, but it's Bono's wannabe operatic lift of Can you/hear/me/when I/sing/You're the reason I sing that makes this one of my favorites. The whole vibe of this song feels like what All That You Can't Leave Behind was reaching for. I also like that its ending jangle is actually the beginning jingle of the next track.

I've chosen the Orbit version of Electrical Storm, as the "Band Version" is boring. I love the echo and the effects burying the guitar in the mix. This was, by far, the highlight of Best Of 1990-2000 B-Sides for me.

Oh, hey, look, it's actually a song from the original version of the album. Walk On begins by announcing that love (the subject of the last song) is not an easy thing / the only baggage you can bring / is all that you can't leave behind. Hey! That's the name of the album! One of the two self-help singles from this album that I enjoy, this song got overplayed a bit when 9/11 gave it a bit too much resonance. But, like many of the songs on the original All That You Can't Leave Behind album, it's actually a song for Michael Hutchence, the lead singer of INXS who hung himself.

I edited Peace On Earth so long ago that I don't remember what I excised from it, or why. I think it just dragged. It's a perfectly find radio edit length ditty but five minutes of it is Too Much. So, here's a shorter cut.

Beautiful Day is in contention for my favorite U2 song. When I heard it, in advance of the album, I was confident that I was going to love this album. I was wrong. But it was a fun, optimistic month or so. The heartbeat drums are probably A Bit Much for some people, but I love them.

Another track I chopped the fuck down was New York. There's two whole verses where Bono does the thing where he tries to sing an octave lower than he's capable of. So *thwack*, that section of the song is gone, we go direct to Bordering On Falsetto Bono. I also cut "Bono calls out different ethnicities for dumbass reasons." So this version of the song is Much Shorter.

I mentioned that "Vertigo" is sort of an improved version of Elevation. I didn't mean to imply that "Elevation" is bad. I quite like the buzzy guitars, and falsetto backgrounds. Though I could do without his occasional "scatting". I still think this approach to guitars is an interesting way for the band to incorporate their Achtung Baby / Zooropa / Pop sensibilities while still making the songs sound more like early U2.

My cross-fade into A Little While is not my best work. This is another song where the sunny guitar riff is my favorite part of the song. The lyrics are ... there. It's another song for his wife. Yea, yea, we get it Bono, you love your wife that you met in high school. Good for you. Write her better songs.

Window In The Skies was a single from U2's U218, their Greatest Hits From Their Previous Greatest Hits albums. But with two new singles (the other one is on the next album). I was surprised I liked it, as it came pretty quickly on the heels of How To Build An Atomic Bomb.

I adore the abrupt and dirty opening of Love And Peace, even if I'm exhausted by Bono singing generic songs about peace. Without The Edge and Adam Clayton, this would be a super wimpy Bono ballad. As it is, I like it more than most of the rest of the tracks from How To Build An Atomic Bomb.

Summery guitar again lulls the album into Kite, another self-help song, but one whose lyrics I actually quite like. It segues really nicely into Wild Honey, a weird little song that lyrically doesn't fit on to any U2 album. It's a fun departure.

I almost didn't include Stuck In A Moment You Can't Get Out Of, as it's another self-help song that got super played during the months after 9/11. It doesn't have the resonance for me that the other singles do, but I do like the chorus, and the way it climbs out of itself near the end.

The final track is actually a live track of Bono with The Coors singing When The Stars Go Blue from a VH1 special. I really enjoy the way Bono's vocals blend with The Coors. It also fits my weird Ryan Adams fandom, where I only like him when he's singing covers, and I only like his original music when it is being covered by someone else. I also included it because I couldn't figure out how to end the album, so ... umm ... here's an applause fadeout.

If Zooropa had a lukewarm reception, and the world who bothered to notice the Passengers EP gave it a raised eyebrow, then the Pop album tanked.  I was in a band when Pop came out, and I remember the guiatrist saying "I know you're a big U2 fan, but NOBODY likes Pop. Tell me you don't like Pop."

I like Pop. It's marketing was odd. The live tour conceit was at best a stretch, at worst stupid and indulgent. The songs could have had better mixes, but ... I liked them. But I liked them in such a way that this is the first of two albums that I've majorly remixed. Cutting out entire verses of songs, using alternate takes, tracking down the vocal tracks and instrumental tracks and remixing them. But, in the end, I quite like the album I ended up with.

U2 remixed M's "Pop Muzik" as a B-side to "The Last Night On Earth". It's a much better intro to this album than "Discotheque", and because the instrumentation is so similar, it flows right into the album version of "Mofo", so my version Popmart opens with this Mofo (Pop Muzik Remiks). What can I say, I love albums that start with a slow build and then screeching guitars.

I debated following this up with the Allen Ginsberg version of Miami, where he gleefully reads the lyrics while Bono songs. It's a bit much. And since he already appears on my version of The Joshua Tree, I decided to just use the album version of Miami. It's lyrically ridiculous, but I like the beat, and after the incredibly stupid you know some places are like your aunty / but there's no place like, I really enjoy Bono's screeching Miami!

Bubbling up at the end of that track is the single mix of If God Would Send His Angels. The album track is severely lacking in the weird engineering decisions that make this an album, as opposed to a collection of unfinished songs. The single version also benefits from flipping the choruses, and adding a new set of lyrics where Bono "scat" on the album version.

A bright build out of the previous song brings us to Last Night On Earth. I've never understood why this was a single. It's a perfectly fine album track, but it's not catch enough for radio play. Even though it's not one of my favorite tracks on the album, I haven't done any work on it. It appears just as it did on the original.

Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah is such an overplayed song to cover. Jeff Buckley's cover is, of course, the gold standard. But, I have to confess, this version by Bono from the mostly atrocious Tower Of Song tribute album, is the first time I ever heard the song. It will never be The Greatest Cover Of The Song. I don't think I'd ever just listen to the song on its own (though I did in the 90s), but it fits really well on to the Popmart album, and I still have a nostalgic enjoyment of the track, even if Bono has publicly apologized for ever recording it.

The Playboy Mansion is another track with ridiculous lyrics. It's sort of a much less impactful "Zooropa" with a stupid conceit at the center (getting into the Playboy Mansion). It's dumb dumb dumb. But I love the warmth of the guitar on the track. It feels as Florida as "Miami".

A B-Side to "Staring At The Sun", North & South Of The River is in contention for my favorite song from the album. It's co-written and originally recorded with Irish folk musician, Christy Moore, but I enjoy the bubble popping Popmart version. It's a super melodramatic teenage love song song by Bono who was in his early two-hundreds when he recorded this.

Another B-Side that I like more than a bunch of songs from the original album, there are two very different mixes of Holy Joe: The Guilty Mix and The Garage Mix. I've chosen The Garage Mix because it sounds dirtier. And I like this song filthy. I think I prefer the alternate lyrics from The Guilty Mix, but I'm willing to sacrifice them for Bono's desperate sounding vocals under the overmixed guitar and drums.

The Monster Truck Mix of Staring At The Sun is such an improvement over both the album version of the song, and the "new version" recorded for Greatest Hits 1990 - 2000, that I can't even listen to the other versions. I love the driving beats, the breakdowns, and the repetitive chaotic ending. It's a toss-up between this, "North & South Of The River", and "Please" for my favorite track from this album. I just think that if the band was going to play at making a Euro Dance album, they should have taken it as far as possible.

The White Album is my favorite Beatles album. I was in no way disappointed to listen to U2 covering Happiness Is A Warm Gun. I've chosen The Gun Mix, from the "Last Night On Earth Single" to include here. Like "Hallelujah", my nostalgia for the original version helps propel it on to the album. It's not an amazing cover, but I appreciate that it doesn't, in any way, stay faithful to the original.

When U2 sat down to figure out which tracks to put on The Best Of 1990-2000, they decided to remix most of the tracks from Pop. This was a wise decision. I've chosen that album's version of Gone, as it has a cleaner vocal mix, and more consistent guitars. I also much prefer the operatic climax of this version to the original.

Please is a track which I've heard several remixes of, and enjoyed all of them. I've stuck with the original album version here. I remember, when it came out, there was a documentary narrated by Dennis Hopper called "A Year In Pop", and he talks about how he was waiting for U2 to finally record something as timeless and important as "Sunday Bloody Sunday", and how "Please" is that song. It's not. I love the song, but it's not going on Rolling Stone's 500 Best Songs Of Classic Rock any time soon.

I used to hate If You Wear That Velvet Dress. I debated not putting it on to this album. Bono's vocals are so low that he can't quite hit any of the notes. I don't know why I've grown to like that. But I like it in an almost ironic way. It's a bad song. It's almost "album track on The Million Dollar Hotel Soundtrack" bad. But buried this deep on the album, it amuses me. And the chorus is ... fine.

I very unironically love Do You Feel Loved. Its chorus is the part of this album that most gets stuck in my head when I'm not deliberately thinking of U2.

Now that the album is almost over, it's time for the original album's intro track, which was also their lead single. I remember, to celebrate the album's release, MTV played every U2 video from "A Celebration" to whatever the final single from Zooropa was ("Lemon", maybe?), followed by the debut of Discotheque. I enjoyed the cheesiness of both the video and the song. I've included the original album version because it just begs for people to do deliberately stupid dance moves to it. Look you know you're chewing bubblegum / you know what it is / but you still want some.

The close to the original album, and my interpretation is definitely Wake Up Dead Man, which is basically a new set of lyrics slapped over a "Numb", "Zooropa", and a couple of tracks from the Salome Sessions. I'm not a big proponent of Jesusy songs, but a plea to Jesus from a believer who is having a hard time keeping faith works for me. That it pisses off Christian Rights buffoons is an added bonus.

Track Listing:

1. Mofo (Pop Muzik Remix)
2. Miami
3. If God Would Send His Angels (Single Version)
4. Last Night On Earth
5. Hallelujah (from Tower Of Song)
6. The Playboy Mansion
7. North & South Of The River
8. Holy Joe (The Garage Mix)
9. Staring At The Sun (Monster Truck Mix)
10. Happiness Is A Warm Gun (Gun Mix)
11. Gone (New Mix from Best Of 1990-2000)
12. Please
13. If You Wear That Velvet Dress
14. Do You Feel Loved?
15. Discotheque
16. Wake Up Dead Man

If you're wondering what the most pretentious U2 album of all-time is, it's the non-U2 album Passengers, where frequent collaborators and producer, Brian Eno, is a full-time member of the band. The conceit of the album, that U2 have put together their favorite non-album tracks from various soundtracks on one collection ... only they're actually movies that U2 didn't actually do the soundtrack to .. or, more deviously, the supposed movie doesn't even actually exist ... is pretty cool.

The addition of Eno and Lanois also make this album an anomaly within U2's evolution, because you can hear that it definitely comes after Zooropa, but it also kind of sounds like it comes after No Line On The Horizon, which didn't come out for another twenty-four years.

But most of the album is completely underwhelming. There's no hits. They don't play any of these songs at concerts. But I still like enough of these tracks to keep it as an EP.

I really enjoy the way the opening track, Slug falls like rain before we get the bubbly, almost Pop like bubbly percussion, interweaved with the clearly Zooropa guitars. It really sounds like a video game soundtrack before the lyrics kick in, when it clearly becomes a U2 song. It's another Bono list poem. A whole song about avoiding responsibility! Doing the things you didn't want to do.

Things I wasn't looking forward to doing? Re-editing Elvis Ate America. It's my favorite of the many, many, many U2 songs idolizing Elvis Presley. I like many of the lyrics, but as the track started, I remembered "Ooooh, there's a line that absolutely needs to be cut out of this or I can't listen to it." But it turned out that I made that edit several years ago. I cut out an entire verse, ridding the most offensive as well as the dumbest lyrics in the song. My favorite lyrics? Elvis: don't mean shit to Chuck D. Truth. And Elvis ate America before America ate him.

Brian Eno is the lead vocalist for the very Brian Eno-y track A Different Kind Of Blue. This really sounds more like it belongs on a Brian Eno album with special guests U2.

The only single from the album, Miss Sarajevo,, features Luciano Pavarotti on vocals. I remember buying this album in college, and putting it into my sleek, state of the art 5 CD changer. At some point in the first few songs, my roommate came in, and when this track was over, he said "I never realized how wussy Bono's voice was until he tried to sing a song with Luciano Motherfucken Pavarotti." Then he impersonated Bono's wispy Here she comes in a steady decrescendo. Bono claims this is one of his favorite songs from his catalog. It is not even my favorite song from this EP, but it's an interesting divergence from the rest of the album.

From Eno to Pavarotti to The Edge's turn on Corpse (These Chains Are Too Long), there's a wide range of white, European vocals on this album. This song is a far cry from "Numb". You can definitely hear here how similar his voice is to Bono's. I like his falsetto better, though.

Your Blue Room. Wait. Now Adam Clayton is on vocals? And he, also, sounds kind of like Bono? Man, this band has spent entirely too much time together.

Another song that sort of drips in, this time with very un-U2 like percussion, is Always Forever Now. I love the slow build here. The title, being the only lyrics, could have been cut, and this would have been a fun instrumental that sounds like it would have been right at home on Achtung Baby.

Closing out the album is a track from an actual movie, Ghost In The Shell: One Minute Warning, with the distorted vocals of Holi being chopped up and screwed into the background before Eno, Bono and Edge come in as sort of a chorus at the end.

Here's the actual track listing from, by far, the shortest album (eight tracks, thirty-three minutes) in the discography:

1. Slug
2. Elvis Ate America
3. A Different Kind Of Blue
4. Miss Sarajevo
5. Corpse (These Chains Are Too Long)
6. Your Blue Room
7. Always Forever Now
8. One Minute Warning