As chronicled in Michaelangelo Matos’s Can’t Slow Down: How 1984 Became Pop’s Blockbuster Year, pop music as a cultural force was already reaching new and unheralded heights as 1984 got underway. That was thanks not only to the resurgence of the blockbuster album, but also the sea change caused by the birth of MTV, and the emergence of Michael Jackson, Madonna, and others as avatars for the cable network’s new confluence of music, filmmaking, style, and celebrity into arguably the decade’s most powerful cultural flame-thrower.
And then there was Prince, who commanded, “Take a picture, sweetie! I ain’t got time to waste!” Even as the artist’s death in 2016 cemented his reputation as one of rock’s all-time legends, it’s still easy to underestimate how massive the impact of Purple Rain was upon its arrival in the summer of 1984, especially as its key tracks have become fully folded into the canon of American standards.
The project saw the Minneapolis mutant-funk ambassador truly spearhead the multiplatform playbook that pop stars like Beyoncé and Taylor Swift are still drawing from to this day. And he didn’t stop there. Drawing from the wellspring of a musical imagination that would prove bottomless throughout the decade and beyond, Prince not only reinvented the “all killer, no filler” ideal, he also resurrected the practice of saving some of the best material for B-sides.
In that spirit, and in honor of the album’s 40th anniversary, we’ve ranked all 13 album tracks and B-sides. And if you think our rankings have us striking curious poses, don’t worry about it. We know ain’t nothing wrong with your ears. Eric Henderson
13. “God”
An instrumental version of “God,” the B-side to “Purple Rain,” appears in the film, but it’s the vocals that are by far the most significant element of this curious oddity. Prince opens the Book of Genesis and reads a few lines but not before he lets out a series of disconcerting onomatopoeia runs, including some truly rafter-scraping falsetto notes that he hits ungracefully. After sluggishly sketching a vague origin myth, Prince’s squeals mimic something like the mating noises of the two pigs on Noah’s Ark. Charles Lyons-Burt
12. “Another Lonely Christmas”
Though Prince’s ability to write a powerful ballad is without question, not every attempt was a success. On the B-side “Another Lonely Christmas,” the contrast between the dark lyrical content and the over-the-top vocals and instrumentation make the track an odd, almost off-putting listen. Prince’s narrator is grieving the loss of a romantic partner who “died on the 25th day of December,” but his exaggerated vocalizations clash with the haunting lyrics. Unlike “Let’s Go Crazy,” which brilliantly contrasts dark lyrical content with pounding drums and melodic stabs of keys, “Another Lonely Christmas” is an overwrought dirge that does a disservice to Prince’s ability to convey introspection and heartache. Thomas Bedenbaugh
11. “Computer Blue”
More than any other song on Purple Rain, “Computer Blue” forces the listener to remember that the album is the soundtrack to a film. In that context, the song is an expression of romantic desperation as Prince’s character struggles to come to terms with an unrequited love. Though that context may help one grasp of the lyrics, spare as they are, it doesn’t make sense of the track’s garish fusion of ’80s hard rock and synth funk—an assemblage of sour, ear-piercing synth stabs, chugging guitar riffs, and flashy solos that never really cohere. Bedenbaugh
10. “Baby I’m a Star”
“Baby I’m a Star” makes sense as an encore song, which is how it appears in the film—a high-energy addendum that lacks some of the elaborate intricacies of other tracks on the soundtrack. The version that appears on the album is indeed a live version taped at Minneapolis’s First Avenue, and it has the jaunty, freeing feel of a live gig, marked by some trademark Prince shrieks and a sassy kiss-off. Rhythmically, it’s a bit flat, as the drums slam in 4/4 time with no bass to speak of (a trend on this album). The song is rescued by some thrilling synth and guitar alloy in its last minute or so, including a sustained drone and a fabulously outsized guitar fed through a gelatinous pedal. Lyons-Burt
9. “Take Me with U”
Notable for its infectious drums and use of Middle Eastern finger cymbals, the second track and final single from Purple Rain sees Prince—sharing co-lead vocals with Apollonia, Lisa Coleman, and Jill Jones—pleading to be whisked away by a lover. A psychedelic swirl of a pop song, “Take Me with U” culminates with a dazzling reprisal of the opening drum solo and whimsical string arrangement, which suggest nothing less than an impending magical mystery tour. Sal Cinquemani
8. “Erotic City”
The B-side to “Let’s Go Crazy,” “Erotic City” is Prince’s most heated sex groove ever, and it’s pretty dirty even if you truly believe he’s actually saying “funk” when your ears are processing “We can fuck until the dawn, making love ’til cherry’s gone.” As if flaunting the song’s taboo nature, Prince’s production has never sounded more naked. His rhythm guitar chickas compete with his raspy, varispeed falsetto to see which can peak at a higher pitch. The second snare hit of each set of four is interrupted and reversed like tantric hiccups. The synthesizers sound like a deep throat tickle. Even if he really is singing “funk,” “Erotic City” is positively obscene. Henderson
7. “17 Days”
The polyrhythmic bounce and poppy synth hook of “17 Days,” the B-side to “When Doves Cry,” belie a thinly veiled sadness. Opening with a psychedelic guitar riff and those crisp Lin drum beats, the trippy club hit finds Prince licking his wounds after a breakup—“All I’ve got is two cigarettes/And this broken heart of mine”—as a chorus of girls, including Wendy & Lisa and Apollonia 6’s Brenda Bennett, taunt him with some sharply punctuated mirth. Cinquemani
6. “Purple Rain”
The fact that “Purple Rain” doesn’t rank higher on this list is a testament to the strength of the five songs that managed to squirm their way ahead of it. Prince tosses off the opening line—“I never meant to cause you any sorrow”—with the nonchalant swagger of someone who’s caused plenty of people sorrow, proceeding with the boilerplate sentiments of many an ’80s power ballad (the artist even worried the song was too similar to Journey’s recent hit “Faithfully”). The instrumental outro comprises the majority of the gospel-tinged track’s nearly nine-minute runtime, with Prince’s reverb-soaked falsetto duetting with his virtuosic electric guitar solo in an epic bit of self-showmanship. Cinquemani
5. “Darling Nikki”
“Darling Nikki” oozes dangerous eroticism, its opening guitar lick and echoing keyboard synths prowling around and looking for trouble. No sooner does Prince croon a brief but impactful first verse does the Revolution explode into action like a premature ejaculation. But, perhaps more in line with the physical capabilities of the song’s subject, “Darling Nikki” proceeds to cum again and again, with bright bursts of guitar and synths that approach hair metal in their electricity. Yes, it’s all about sex, but that doesn’t take away from the song’s majesty. Lyons-Burt
4. “Let’s Go Crazy”
It’s ironic that one of the most celebratory, life-affirming, and hedonistic pop albums of the last 50 years opens with a funeral dirge. The Purple Pastor intones over a warped organ that though “this thing called life” is full of ambiguity and hardship, we’d be foolish to conclude that that’s all there is. There’s “the afterworld,” sure, but there are also friendships, family ties, and, perhaps most importantly, “get[ting] nuts” to electrify our lives. By turns uplifting, cautious, and funny, “Let’s Go Crazy” is an infectiously catchy synth-funk sermon whose aim is to embrace life’s joys while not forgetting its sorrows. Bedenbaugh
3. “The Beautiful Ones”
Used in the film as the world’s most successful pick-up line (one that makes an insta-cuck out of Morris Day, at that), “The Beautiful Ones” isn’t just the best album-only track on Purple Rain. It is, as most true fans would argue, his best album-only track period. A late-in-the-game replacement for “Electric Intercourse”—which, while it has its fans, wouldn’t have been a radical evolutionary step beyond earlier piano-pounding sex jams like “International Lover”—this monster of a slow-burn draws as clear a line between sex and religion as anything Prince ever managed. That’s no small feat given that God isn’t brought up even obliquely, but if the singer’s glide from tender foreplay to fully committed, climactic shrieking abandon doesn’t take you to some kind of church, maybe good sex just ain’t your thing. Henderson
2. “I Would Die 4 U”
Whether “I Would Die 4 U” is one big Jesus metaphor or not seems less important than how effortlessly anthemic the song is. It’s ’80s pop pathos at its best, the urgency of its shimmying, echo-drenched beat and arching refrains matched only by Prince’s distressed eroticism. At one point, he practically screeches, “Darling, if you want me to,” in equal parts agony and orgasm, his usual foreplay cast aside in favor of something far more desperate, visceral, and genuine. Which makes “I Would Die 4 U” one of those rare moments where we can catch a glimpse of the anxious humanity beneath Prince’s sex-soaked strut. Kevin Liedel
1. “When Doves Cry”
Prince’s songs are always caught up in the throes of eccentricity, but masterpieces like “When Doves Cry” take on a sense of warped grandiosity that approaches madness. Built around a curiously inane central image (the sound of birds weeping) with a low-key chorus and a heavy amount of repetition, the track works because Prince is so adamant in selling it. Piling on shrieks, yelps, moans, and several other forms of nonverbal cues, he guides the song through nearly six minutes of formless experimentation and garbled synth doodles, riding out on one of his signature masturbatory guitar solos. Jesse Cataldo
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What I gather from this half-assed effort to review an album by an artist you clearly don’t really care for, is your simply trying to make some kinda name for yourself by being “edgy”, but sly with your left-handed semi-compliments. Well, sorry, your unbelievably too late- the album is, was and always will be a monster success, probably long B4 the writers of this were born. “Rhythmically flat”, for Baby, I’m A Star; “garish fusion of 80’s rock & synth fusion: sour, and ear-piercing”? Yeah, this whole review/read was, overall sour and, pretty flat. Luckily, history proves you folks wrong- long ago. I’m just glad I don’t get angry ’bout shit like this. Ya didn’t smash the picture, so, year not that beautiful.