N.E.W.S.

N.E.W.S. is the second album in which Prince gives his voice a rest and lets the music do all the talking. And it is without a doubt one of those albums that best comes at you at the right time in life, it is probably the most overlooked release in Prince’s catalogue. On the surface, N.E.W.S. comprises four rambling tracks, named North, East, West and South, very different to what you would normally expect from Prince. This sets it back at the start. But putting the release into context with the full catalogue, things get a lot clearer. This would be like listening to Camille without first hearing Sign O’ The Times. Your reviewer must therefore admit in having previously judged N.E.W.S. unfairly; dismissing it fit only for hotel lobbies and being far too eager to hit Skip. Only when looking back on it, is the true quality come shine through and reveal a charming, absorbing journey, and one so dreamy and sometimes dark you are consumed at fine example of Prince’s genius. N.E.W.S‘s case was not helped at having followed dreary Xpectation. Although lacking the pace of urgency of Prince’s familiar albums, N.E.W.S. breaks its own ground in so many other ways, nor does it not one let up on quality. The four tracks are equally 14 minutes long. The first, North is the album’s best, helped out by the opening moody porn bass and then later on, Prince’s licks on lead guitar. Each member in this tight band comes to the fore in each track, chock-a-block with musical mastery, most notably Renato Neto on the keys, and the late and great John Blackwell’s drums. East, contains echoes of the live Family Name, you wait to hear “Rebecca Outlaw” at any minute. West presents that soring feeling of Venus De Milo. South, is Eric Leeds in full Madhouse flow. The ‘songs’ – let’s call them jams – are best appreciated played as one session, like Lovesexy. But it is far more than simply a showcase for Prince’s musical dexterity, it never succumbs to self-indulgence. The music is full of the mastery you expect of Prince, but it comes at the price of being able to enjoy his smart, albeit cleaned up, lyrical craft.