As you know, Prince Rogers Nelson passed away on Thursday at the young age of 57. I am always loathe to pontificate too much about people I’ve never met, but Prince was a special case.

In my opinion, he was the single most influential and important pop artist/musician of all-time and the second best electric guitar player ever, trailing only Jimi Hendrix. He did more to push culture forward than any other modern pop musician, challenging people to live more freely while making popular culture a safer space for true self-expression. He made people nervous, excited, scared, ecstatic, and uncomfortable (often all at the same time) and challenged damaging norms relating to race, gender, and sexuality more than any other mainstream musician. You can feel his influence in just about every inch of popular music, and many of current music’s most creative artists are direct descendents from his rich musical and stylistic family tree — from Kanye to Rihanna to Young Thug to Frank Ocean to André 3000 and so on.

And then there was the music. Over a 40-year period, he released nearly 40 studio LPs that spawned a litany of unbelievable musical moments. His first album, 1978’s For You, fused classic soulful, R&B (“My Love is Forever,” “Baby”) with nasty 70s funk (“Soft and Wet,” “I’m Yours”). Incredibly, Prince wrote and played every instrument on the disc’s lush, refined arrangements. As great as that record still is, you never would have guessed that it would precede the journey it did. And he spent the next 40 years of his life exploring, mastering, and re-imagining countless genres (rock, R&B, pop, soul, jazz, etc) and writing a diverse array of some of the most beloved pop songs of all time for other artists (example A, B, C, D).

It’s a career that couldn’t be summed up by a thousand think-pieces, but I wanted to pick out a couple favorites to write about. Any Prince fan knows how fervently he protected his copyright and how few of his songs are available to stream, so there’s no “When You Were Mine,” “Erotic City,” “If I Was Your Girlfriend,” or “With You” on this list. That said, there are plenty of looseys that I’ve streamed throughout the years to deal with Prince cravings during work-hours. Here are my five favorites.

Prince
Purple Rain
Live in 1983 in Minneapolis
I had to start with the big one. The first ever performance of the best pop song of all-time, this clip captures every ounce of his greatness — as a performer, as a vocalist, as a guitarist, and most of all, as a songwriter. Featuring an extra verse and an extended solo, this clip captures a legend at the peak of his powers. Supposedly, they sourced a lot of the studio version from this performance, which is one of the reasons that version feels so much more immediate and human than most studio recordings.

There’s this great moment (at about 3:14) when Prince approaches the mic and opens his mouth to sing the first verse, but just steps back at the last second to collect himself, seemingly overcome by the moment. Maybe he just did it for effect, but it’s also a little window into the ocean of emotion (it’s not hyperbole if it’s about “Purple Rain”) that he’s tapping into here. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to this thing over the years, but each time I do, it gives me something new.

Stream it over at Antiquiet.com.

Prince
“Do Me, Baby”
Live at the Capitol Theater, 1982
This is my favorite cut from one of the only legit concert recordings available online, captured at a New Jersey date of the Controversy tour. Many of Prince’s best bedroom jams have a divine, gospel-esque quality to them, almost like the Purple One is laying down and worshiping at the altar of somebody’s mind-blowing (ahem) talent. This performance of “Do Me, Baby” is one of the greatest examples of that. Backed by one of the classic Revolution line-ups, his virile vocals are flawlessly framed by the great Lisa Coleman’s starry-eyed keyboards, Dez Dickerson’s sublime, echo-y guitar filigree and a filthy baseline by Brown Mark. The whole show is more than worth your time, but this is the high point for me.

Prince
“Always in My Hair”
Live at the Arsenio Hall show, 2014
One of the things that makes Prince’s death so sad is that it felt like he had so much more music left in him. Incredibly, 40 years into his career, his level never seemed to really drop. In his 50s, his fingers remained just as nimble and his vocals just as potent as they were in his 20s. In fact, I cannot think of a single musician from his generation aged so gracefully, save possibly Springsteen (maybe). He was never a nostalgia act, consistently putting out work that broke new ground and took real chances.

This ripping performance of the classic B-side turned single, “Always in My Hair,” is perfect evidence that he emphatically still had ‘it’ late in his career. He pays tribute to a loyal lover with effortless swagger and a face-melting guitar solo. His backing band, 3RDEYEGIRL, is also a reminder of his lifelong commitment to empowering female musicians, which will always remain a key element of his lasting legacy.

Prince
“A Case of You”
A Tribute to Joni Mitchell
As people, Prince and I probably don’t have very much in common (as much I’d wish), but one thing we can definitely agree on is Joni Mitchell. And because she’s likely my favorite artist ever, Joni covers are always a dicey proposition to me. However, Prince handles “A Case of You” with trademark grace and subtle virtuosity. From the lovely, sprightly piano playing to his easy falsetto, he treads the line between putting his own stamp on it and staying true to the perfect original.

Prince
“Sometimes it Snows in April”
Parade
OK, so this one is kind of cheating, but I found it on YouTube today, so I’ll say it passes the copyright test. I’ve been coming back to Prince’s devastating rumination on the loss a friend a lot recently, as I’ve had to say goodbye to three of my own in the last 12 months. They happened in quick succession, hitting me hard and leaving me with endless questions. As the months have passed, I’ve gained some perspective and understanding on what Prince eloquently sings about here, namely to do your god-damnedest to appreciate the time you’ve got with the people you love. It’s a simple lesson, but it’s the biggest one there is. Every day, I’m trying to do a better job remembering it. And whenever I need a reminder, this record has been there for me.

“Sometimes it Snows in April” is just one of the many gifts that Prince gave us in his incredible 57 years on this planet, which is such better place to live on because of his contributions. RIP.

“All good things they say, never last.
And love, it isn’t love until it’s past.”

While working out his follow up to 2012’s wonderful, I Know What Love Isn’t, Swedish crooner/ThunderPenguin fave, Jens Lekman has been quietly releasing a new track every week on SoundCloud. Don’t let the paltry play numbers (most average around 6-10k streams) or the lack of blog love fool you, there is real magic in the 21 diverse songs released so far. Some are fully realized compositions, while some are skeletal sketches. Either way, it’s a fascinating set from a versatile songwriter whose only constraint is time, freeing him to dig deeper into disparate influences and half-baked ideas. Here are my five favorites to date.

“Postcard #7” (02.14.15)
One of the finest pieces of Lekman’s career, “Postcard #7” is a swooning affirmation that sees the perpetually romantic 34 year-old falling all over himself in the early days of a love affair. Metaphors are generally tricky to pull off and often ring hollow, but he delivers his words with a disarming, palpable earnestness that will leave you sipping on the sweet nectar (buh doom pish) of your most naive, lovedrunk moments. Pour me another.

“Postcard #17” (04.25.15)
Lekman’s always had a way with samples, and many of his best tracks (“Rocky Dennis’ Farewell Song,” “Maple Leaves”) draw heavily from recontextualized obscure disco and pop songs of the 60’s and 70’s. He goes to that well again here, grabbing a few languid piano bars from jazz demigod Charles Mingus’ lovely “Myself When I’m Real.” Lekman’s melancholic vocals are well-suited for the chopped up piano chords and forlorn horns, and the deft arrangement allows plenty of space for the Gothenburg native to glide into.

“Postcard #10” (03.07.15)
In my experiences with loss, I’ve found that I miss the small stuff about a person more than the bigger, more profound moments I’d shared with them. I tend to especially miss things like stupid jokes, discussing trash TV, and G-Chatting about God knows what, and Lekman captures the power of the minutiae that fills our lives with a rumination on his late grandfather. Borrowing its melody from the series’ jokey opener, “Postcard #10” memorializes him with the kind of affecting Christmas story that everybody can relate to.

“Postcard #6” (02.07.15)
“Remember… I gave you a chart for morse code,” is one of the most Lekman-y opening lines of all time. While it may make little sense at first listen, it draws you in. And Lekman — ever the expert storyteller — pays it off with an emotive tale about moving on and letting go. Sporting swirling synths, jazzy piano, and dramatic strings, the lush arrangement shows that these are developed, fully formed pieces, far from the throwaways that their fanfare-free release would suggest.

“Postcard #21” (05.24.15)
We’ll end this list with the most recent track, a cut that recalls some of Lekman’s early, lo-fi, vocal-driven work like “Do You Remember The Riots?,” “A Man Walks Into a Bar,” and “The Cold Swedish Winter.” The latter is the first Jens song I ever heard and began my love affair with his music. There was a homemade feeling to that early work — like he was in your living room, singing without a microphone. Fittingly, he’s currently on tour, playing living rooms and community centers in tiny towns in Sweden and Norway. No doubt, he’ll be leaving fans with intimate memories like the one I have of him playing for 10 to 15 of us in a parking lot after a gig in San Francisco. I have a lot of rich memories involving his music, but that’s the one I cherish most.

Late last night, a friend texted me that legendary Chicago house/footwork/juke producer Rashad “DJ Rashad” Harden had passed away at  just 35. Anytime someone passes away at such an age, it is an impossible tragedy, and all thoughts and prayers must be extended to his family and friends. However, the timing of Harden’s death is even crueler because he was finally starting to get the international recognition that his genius, vision, and innovation deserved.

His fifth LP, Double Cup, was one of the best releases of last year and enjoyed almost universal acclaim. He spent the last couple of years criss-crossing the globe, playing to massive, sweaty rooms, packed to the brim.

I won’t speculate on the cause of death or the man himself, because I have no insight into either. I would, however, like to celebrate the great man’s incredible, influential catalog and the enduring legacy he leaves behind. I was lucky enough to see Rashad’s final two NYC performances, and both times I was left marveling at his uncanny ability to seamlessly weave massively diverse, frenetic tracks together with consumate ease and mastery. He must have been born with a metronome implanted in his brain to be able to match those beats. In short, he will remain one of the most influential, important producers of his generation and one of the men who brought the Chicago club sound to the world.

Also, I appreciate that I am not the person to craft a definitive collection of his best work or sum up his career, but I did want to devote some words to his songs that hit me hardest. RIP.

“Let it Go” from Rollin EP (2013)
Admittedly, I was late to the DJ Rashad party, as “Let it Go” was the first track of his I really fell in love with.  One of my favorite songs of 2013, the track captures a lot of the elements that make his sound so remarkable. Rashad manages to balance hyperactive percussion with evocative swabs of synths, teetering on the edge of the beat. Just when the off-kilter number threatens to tip over, he masterfully reaches over to steady the ship, guiding it safely to its devastating climax.

“I’m Gone” from Just A Taste (2010)
While he was a master of manipulating chopped-up vocal samples, Rashad could also build around an extended sample like few others. Case in point, “I’m Gone” matches an evocative Gil-Scott Heron sample (one also famously used by fellow Chicago-native, Kanye West) with a syncopated, dancefloor backbeat and wobbly sub-bass to perfection. While he obviously made great party music, there’s an undercurrent of pain in a lot of his best work, and it’s on full display here.

“She A Go” (f/ DJ Spinn & DJ Taso) from Double Cup (2013)
One of Rashad’s greatest strengths was his versatility, and the Double Cup stand-out incorporates UK Garage influences and Southern rap into his Chicago sound. Obviously, this isn’t the only place he utilizes the aforementioned elements, but it’s one of my favorites. One of the smoothest Rashad tracks on record, he blends just-behind-the-beat chords with his signature syncopated percussion. It’s topped off with an infectious, screwed vocalsthat guide the listener through the track’s stunning 3-plus minutes.

“CCP” from TEKLIFE Vol 1: Welcome to the Chi (2012)
He had a knack for pulling apart vocal samples to inhuman levels, deconstructing them to the point of otherworldliness. That said, no matter how mangled, they never lost their humanity, as highlighted on this evocative banger. If that wasn’t enough, Rashad actually uses the vocal as a percussive element here, almost signaling tempo shifts with it. It’s something I’d never really heard done like that, and it’s yet another example of why Rashad will be remembered as a true sonic innovator.

“FootworKINGz” from Jukeville (2009)
Even though he was certainly never limited to the genre, it feels fitting to end this list with an example of pure footwork glory. “FootworKINGz” only uses a few sonic elements and two words, but in classic DJ Rashad style, it becomes much more than the sum of its parts. And isn’t that what being a great DJ/producer is all about? It’s about pulling the magic out of the small elements of recorded tracks and putting them together to make an entirely new, original piece of music. Only the great ones can do it, and it’s why he will always be considered the Footwork King.

RIP DJ Rashad.

A couple people have asked me what my favorite albums of 2012 were, so I figured the new Starting V column would be a good place to put them. Had to bend the rules a touch because I couldn’t quite fit just five in there.

Honorable Mention:
The xx, Coexist (most underrated album of the year)
Future: Pluto (most caffeinated album of the year)
Chromatics: Kill For Love (most chichi album of the year)
Kendrick Lamar: good kid, m.A.A.d city (most introspective album of the year)
Chief Keef: Back From the Dead (most divisive album of the year)

5b. How to Dress Well
Total Loss
Acéphale 

The Chicagoan’s devastating debut, Love Remains, was my favorite album of 2010, and while Total Loss falls a bit short of that, it is a million miles away from a sophomore slump. On the engulfing LP, Krell stripped away much of the excess noise that characterized Love Remains and let his powerful falsetto creep out. His aesthetic isn’t quite as unique as it was, but the songs are arguably even better and more personal. Easily one of the most distinctive voices (vocally and compositionally) in music today.

Hottest Jams: “Ocean Floor for Everything,” “& It Was You,” “Running Back”

5a. Andy Stott
Luxury Problems
Modern Love

Luxury Problems is a celebration of impeccable craft and pure human emotion. Progressive artists are guilty of spending too much time on the former and eschewing the latter, but the veteran Mancunian’s third LP nails both with quiet aplomb. On its surface, it’s a difficult and inaccessible collection, but if you give it your time, you will not be dissapointed.

Hottest Jams: “Numb,” “Hatch the Plan”

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