An overly-eager artist being welcomed into the industry is taken on a bumpy ride as she learns life does not have as many sunny days as she thought. Within the process, she comes to learn that her tour guide is a lot more important to her than she e...
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September 9, 1986 Yokohama, Japan
He just broke his Purple Rain guitar.
That was all my mind could say as I stood at the side of the stage. I didn't play the show from the previous day. I only played that one, the one on September 9th, but I watched both shows. There he was on his final encore and absolutely demolished it. I was in utter disbelief. He scuffed up, pounded, bruised, and roughed up plenty of his guitars. Why did he break it? I don't know but the coincidental factor of where that night took everyone makes it bizarre. He not only ruined the first but the backup as well. What more was there to say?
When he did it, he didn't seem to flinch not a bit and that was what scared me most. It was a lot of penned up emotion in his acts. I saw Wendy exchange looks with the band. It was hard to see considering he had half of Sheila's band on his stage with Boni blocking my view but I saw. He asked me to come but I couldn't. I didn't tell him but my menstrual cycle decided to make a surprise visit. I didn't return until the end of it all. Literally, the end of it all because that's exactly what that was.
I shook my head as I struggled to read Lisa's lips. My focus was shot the moment I noticed Prince wiping his face with the sleeve of his trench coat. "It's over, man." I was talking to myself but it was confirmation for everyone. I looked at my uncle and he nodded in agreement. It was apparent. I just didn't know how long until it was officially said. Prince and The Revolution were no Ringo, Paul, George, and John although it still felt as if I was watching the final show when The Beatles knew they were breaking up.
Prince walked off of the stage, as the band finalized PurpleRain, and went straight to his dressing room. Backstage, there was a strike of silence until he emerged and when he did, Prince acted like nothing happened. He was still laughing and smiling with everybody as things hadn't been hot and cold for the last three weeks. I felt a clear, blatant shift in my bones even though I wasn't sure what was coming next. It was clear that whatever we were experiencing was over. All of it was over.
We didn't spend much time in Japan after that last show. On the flight back to Minnesota, I boarded with Matt and Prince in first class. Everybody else was flying back to their home states. Susannah was going back to her and Prince's house in LA as he was only making a brief trip home before he'd be returning to his girlfriend and his Southern California mansion. I sat by the window with Prince next to me. Matt was on the other side of him in a brand new row. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was sad. It felt something like I'd imagine postpartum depression to feel... That was how my sadness felt.
The silence left a sour emotional frequency between my friend and I. Not knowing how to start the conversation, my awkward tendencies took control of my blank conscience and I did whatever came to mind. I picked up Prince's hand and cracked one of his knuckles. He snatched his right hand away.
