Artist

Prince

“The Artist Formerly Known as…”

Minneapolis, United States · 1958 – 2016

Prince is a musician from Minneapolis, United States, active 1958–2016. Their discography on Gatefold includes 24 records. They also recorded with Madhouse.

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Albums tracked

1,197

In collections

1958

Since

2 projects · 1,197 records in Gatefold collections

Biography

Prince walked into a studio in 1978 and told the suits he was producing himself or he was walking out. He was 19 years old and hadn't sold a single record yet. That wasn't ego; it was a survival tactic because he already knew no one else could hear the arrangements inside his head. He spent the next decade living in a fever dream of Linndrum loops and Oberheim synths, cutting entire albums alone in the middle of the night and leaving the engineers to find the tapes in the morning. There’s a stretch from 1980 to 1988 where the man was untouchable, but don't let the purple myth fool you into thinking the 90s were all gold. He spent years sabotaging his own momentum to spite Warner Bros., drowning brilliant songs in mid-tempo R&B filler and vanity projects. He'd release a triple album just because he could, then follow it up with a jazz-fusion record under a pseudonym that nobody asked for. But even when he was drifting, he remained the most dangerous guy in the room with a Telecaster. You listen to the Vault stuff now and you realize his throwaways were better than most people’s career peaks.

Bio from The Clerk

The Arc of Prince

The pivots — what forced Prince to reinvent.

The Uptown Lockdown
By 1980, Prince stripped the disco polish off his sound and leaned into the cold, mechanical snap of the Minneapolis scene he was building from scratch. He moved into a house in Minnetonka, installed a home studio, and tracked 'Dirty Mind' almost entirely solo. It was a rejection of the high-gloss production of the era, favoring thin, biting guitar tones and skeletal synth lines that sounded like they were recorded in a garage. This was the moment the ‘Prince’ sound actually solidified—sexually blunt, sonically sparse, and dangerously tight.
The Revolution Era
The solo wunderkind act hit a wall until he leaned on Wendy Melvoin and Lisa Coleman to help flesh out the psychedelic sprawl of the mid-80s. 'Purple Rain' and 'Around the World in a Day' aren't just solo triumphs; they are the sound of a full band pushing him into more complex, baroque pop territory. You can hear the shift in the room on 'Mountains,' where the arrangements breathe with a live energy that his programmed solo tracks lacked. This era ended the second he felt he was becoming a brand, leading him to fire the band and retreat back into his own head for 'Sign o' the Times'.
The Symbol and the Spite
The 1990s were defined by a literal identity crisis as he scrawled 'Slave' on his face and changed his name to an unpronounceable glyph to break his contract with Warner Bros. He started dumping massive quantities of music through his NPG Records imprint just to flood the market and devalue his back catalog. The production became slicker, more reliant on contemporary hip-hop tropes and New Jack Swing, often burying his best songwriting under dated drum sounds. It was a chaotic period of creative guerilla warfare that resulted in messy, overstuffed records like 'Emancipation' and 'The Gold Experience'.

Influences

Sly Stone — Prince frequently cited Sly as the blueprint for the multi-instrumentalist bandleader who could bridge funk and rock. You hear it in the slap-bass heavy arrangements of 'Graham Central Station' and the psychedelic soul of 'Sign o' the Times.' Sly's influence is the reason Prince insisted on a racially and gender-integrated band.
Joni Mitchell — He spent years sending her roses and obsessed over 'The Hissing of Summer Lawns,' even name-checking her in the liner notes of 'Dirty Mind.' Her non-standard guitar tunings and sophisticated harmonic shifts directly informed his acoustic ballads and jazzier detours. 'The Ballad of Dorothy Parker' is a direct sonic nod to her dreamlike songwriting style.
James Brown — The discipline Prince demanded from the Revolution and the NPG came straight from the Hardest Working Man in Show Business. He mirrored Brown’s use of hand signals to cue the band for tight, percussive stops and starts. You hear it most clearly on live tracks like 'Sexy M.F.' where the horn hits are surgical.
Carlos Santana — While everyone focuses on his Hendrix comparisons, Prince himself pointed to Santana as his primary guitar influence for sustain and phrasing. That soaring, melodic lead work on 'Purple Rain' or 'Computer Blue' is pure Santana-style lyricism on six strings. He grabbed that biting, overdriven tone and made it a centerpiece of his pop arrangements.
Little Richard — The foundation of Prince's vocal performance—the high-octane screams, the falsetto, and the flamboyant stage presence—is rooted in Little Richard's 1950s template. He played the man in a middle school play and never looked back. That raw, church-bred energy is what keeps tracks like 'Let's Go Crazy' from feeling too polished.