Sign 'O' the Times

33⅓ Main Series #10

by Michaelangelo Matos

One of the greatest double albums of the vinyl era, Sign 'O' the Times shows Prince at his peak. Here, Michaelangelo Matos tells the story of how it emerged from an extraordinary period of creativity to become one of the landmark recordings of the 1980s. He also illustrates beautifully how - if a record is great enough and lucky enough to hit you at the right time - it can change your way of looking at the world.

EXCERPT
The most immediately striking thing about Sign 'O' the Times is the jazzy sensibility running through it. Prince's father was a jazz musician, his mother a vocalist; he'd been a fan of chops-heavy jazz-fusion as well as rock and R&B growing up. But when Prince began recording for Warner Bros., he abjured the brass sections that dominated groups like Earth, Wind & Fire and Parliament-Funkadelic, opting instead for stacked synthesizer patterns and a spare, cold feel that markedly contrasted with lush, overarranged disco and the wild, thick underbrush of the era's giant funk ensembles; Rickey Vincent, author of Funk: The Music, the People, and the Rhythm of the One, dubbed it "naked funk." Getting away from traditional R&B instrumentation is an underappreciated aspect of Prince's crossover success; Prince is also said to have actively disliked the sound of horns early in his career.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, Musicals, Memoir, Audiobook, Music Biography

121 pages, Paperback

First published February 1, 2004

Reviews

[Kaoru · Rating 1 out of 5]

Blimey, that was awful!.

Anyway, it's written by one of those people who think this album is Prince's best work. (A view I personally don't share, but since so many do - who am I to contradict?) Which is not necessarily a problem, but sometimes I just wish he could be a bit less subjective when it comes to backing his claim. The real problem is that it's written by someone who apparently thinks of himself as pretty hot stuff. The entire first third of the book is entirely about him, him, him and even more about him. And his fan relationship to Prince's music. And I'm sorry to say... I have very little interest in Michaelangelo Matos and whatever his views on the world are. And what things went on in his family as he was listening to "1999" when he still was a kid. And so on. I don't know how many pages it took in the printed book because I was listening to the audio version... but it took almost a full hour until the words "Sign 'o the Times" finally slipped off the reader's tongue for the first time. And I'm really not joking here or trying to be sarcastic!

Even worse: The author thinks that the word "fuck" is a really kewl dude. So it keeps popping up in his sentences. Again. And again. And again. In every context conceivable, and so frequent that a Tarantino script comes across as mute in comparison. It's very adolescent, if not even childish. I mean... what is he? Twelve?

And then... there's actually very little to learn about "Sign o' the Time" here, even though there's a hell of a lot of back story to it! The whole batch of projects that didn't get released and ultimately led to this sort of compilation of the songs are merely mentioned in passing. You hardly hear anything about "Dream Factory", even though it was actually a pretty important thing in Prince's career. I mean, it was what caused his backing band The Revolution to dissolve, for christ sake! But Matos doesn't really tell you anything. He'd rather inform you how he fucking enjoyed it watching the fucking awesome Prince performance of fucking Little Red Corvette on fucking TV.

Better read the wikipedia entry to this album instead. It isn't very long, but has more facts covered than this little thing here.

[John · Rating 2 out of 5]

The personal writing is good, giving a musical context to 1987 and an idea of what it was like to be from Minneapolis while Prince was blowing up. The analysis itself is a bit skimpy, which is a pity because when it's there it's decent and interesting. For example there's a detailed reading of the Little Red Corvette video versus previous Prince videos that goes a long way in teasing out why that song in particular was such a breakthrough hit.

The biographical content is mainly fine, a lot has been clarified and expanded on since this book came out but it would be unfair to use this to criticize any factual errors or rumours taken as truth.

However, to these eyes the authors tendency to declare songs and albums rubbish with no thought as to why other people may like them (in the case of Diamonds and Pearls, in their millions)really starts to grate after a while. Half of Lovesexy sucks because it sucks; Play In the Sunshine is the weakest song because I say so etc. Drags the whole thing down.

[Malayna]

had to read this for my summer course and it’s a book so it counts towards my reading goal right???

[Ross Bonaime · Rating 3 out of 5]

In many ways, Michaelangelo Matos' book on Prince's Sign O' the Times album is exactly what I look for in a 33 1/3 book. Matos starts off the book by explaining his personal experience with Prince, how he first discovered this album, and what it meant to him. After that, Matos explores how Sign O' the Times fits into Prince's career up to that point, and how he never quite made another album at this level.

But as much as I love Prince - particularly Prince of the '80s - Sign O' the Times is arguably the biggest album of Prince's career that I just don't love as much as everyone else. I adore 1999 and Purple Rain, but Sign O' the Times feels to me like fragments of ideas, Prince experimenting in ways that don't always work, and never quite getting to the level of great pop songwriter that we know he can reach. At first, Matos discusses how he also struggled to get into this album, and I was excited to read this, knowing I was reading someone going through the same issues I had with this album.

While Matos does do a good job of going song by song and exploring what makes each unique, I walked away from this book still sort of not understanding the love for Sign O' the Times, besides it being one of Prince's more experimental and "mature" albums of the '80s. I was hoping this book would show me what I'd been missing, and even though Matos is doing a lot of what I want this book series to do, I find Sign O' the Times to just slightly miss in its most essential function.

[Dave Coenen · Rating 3 out of 5]

My first finished 33 1/3 after the Selected Ambient Works, Vol. 2 episode bored me halfway through with its overflow of technical details. Now I have to admit this one by Michaelangelo Matos about Princes essential double album is quite the other side of the coin.

The autobiographical "introduction" by Matos stretches a little too long and the author at moments seems self-absorbed, stunting and flexing about with cringeworthy adjectives and astonishingly unsalted jokes. To me it came across as Matos trying to channel his inner child-like prankster to level with Princes curious aura and sense of humour.

But in between all this forced wit, there's a palpable passion radiating from this 121-page essay. A heartfelt connection to the artist, the album, the cultural impact SOTT had and the environment it was created in. But, in Princes case, that's not super rare because he was loved by millions as if he were their own family, or even more than that. Conclusion: not many new insights or details to be found here, but Matos provides some - often very bold - criticism and new ways of hearing Sign O' The Times while delving into the layered arrangements of this double album with a stylus as sharp as his hearing. Side note: his senseless Peaches remark left me incandescent and indignant.

When it comes down to the content of his criticism - the main thesis, posed sandwich-shaped in the very beginning and ending of the book, viz: SOTT is his best work without a doubt - I don't even know if I'd agree with Matos. SOTT for sure is the most concise, kaleidoscopic overview of Princes musical value, skill and essence, but it's far from his most coherent, interconnected and heartfelt work. Perhaps my disagreement on the undeniable list-topping quality of this album from first second to last makes my rating 3/5, but Matos put in a good effort to win me over emotionally for at least 15 minutes.

This tenth volume of the 33 1/3 book series is a nice little prozaic/cultural critic treat for fans, but it has aged quite a bit since its release in 2004. For newer insights, unheard stories and revisited (and unreleased) musical material, I'd recommend the book accompanying the 2020 Super Deluxe Reissue of Sign O' The Times (if you have the $ to spend) or the official Sign O' The Times podcast (if you don't have the $ and are still on board of the Prince geeking train) next to many fan pages, Facebook groups, and more deeply researched features on this immaculate era in Princes career - because this book is fun as long as it lasts, but sure as hell lacks profound factual research.

[Untitled · Rating 1 out of 5]

Matos is the type of Prince fan who thinks they completely "get" Prince, but really only understand him on a surface level. I suspected this was the case as I read his interpretation of SOTT and its songs. It was confirmed towards the end of the book when he obviously didn't understand why Prince made Lovesexy one continuous track (and said the record was the "last straw" for a lot of fans). (I guess he didn't have his + sign the day he wrote that section.) That aside, I found the writing to be pretty awful. It tried very hard to be clever and witty, but it wasn't. The entire thing was only 121 pages, which should have been a quick read; I found it a chore to finish.

[Justine · Rating 5 out of 5]

The references come at you at 100 mph but its sooo much fun!

[Ron Maskell · Rating 3 out of 5]

I've read a lot of Prince related books and this is a middle of the road book. It's starts strong but fades towards the end. One of the biggest problems I had with this book is that the author does not provide sources for such things as track listings for albums. The author does his best to relate personal stories to the album and everything Prince which does add to the book. Overall though I find the book as a whole, lacking.

[Spencer Abrams · Rating 2 out of 5]

The beauty of the 33 1/3 books is that they can kind of take any form. They range from literary rock-docs to critical theory essays. This, however, falls into the category of "fanboy's review." It's a classic album, don't get me wrong, I'd gush too, but with only periodic bits of insight into the actual history of the album and mythic world of the Purple One, the focus on the author's experience with this album is just not unique or interesting. Maybe go ahead and skip this one.

[Pamster · Rating 3 out of 5]

A lot of interesting stuff about the 80s and Boomers and their Beatles worship. But also this author thinks Peaches entire career is Vanity 6 “if Peaches had an ounce of wit or funk in her.” What are you even talking about. Absurd. Generally a lot of flaunting his heterosexuality throughout which I caren’t for.

[Kristan · Rating 2 out of 5]

Usually these books are either 1) about how the album was made and the context it was made in or 2) a personal narrative about the author's relationship to the album. This one tried to do both but didn't do enough of either.

[Francesco · Rating 3 out of 5]

One of the greatest Prince's albums, I consumed the double vinyl when it came out in 1987 and I enjoyed reading the song by song analysis in Matos' book. 33 1/3 is a great series of small monographs about albums that changed modern music.

[La'Tonya Miles · Rating 2 out of 5]

Just ok.

[Henry · Rating 1 out of 5]

His writing style grated

[Glen Engel-Cox · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the first of the 33 1/3 series where I knew the album fairly well before listening to it for the book. While a latecomer to Prince—I don’t think I bought one of his albums until the Purple Rain movie—I did listen to most of his catalog and owned a number of the albums including 1999, Around the World in a Day, and this one, Sign ‘O’ the Times. However, for me, Prince was more of a singles artist and I rarely sat down to listen to a whole album, finding them mostly uneven. Individual songs, though, were so good that even today I find myself quoting some of them like “1999,” “Let’s Go Crazy,” and the title track of this album.

Michaelangelo does a nice job of bringing Prince, who achieved a form of sainthood in Minneapolis, down to Earth by showing what it meant to have a hometown boy make it good through his own experience growing up on welfare and knowing friends of friends of Prince’s. He also covers the album very well, showing where it emerged from, how every Prince song is ultimately about sex, but also how his upbringing, his musical knowledge and skills, and his religion infuses every song as well.

While reading this, I was also watching Mark Ronson’s AppleTV series about drum programming. Prince was a master of making great beats, but I strongly believe part of that was because he could do so on a drum kit as well as through a computer. Just listen to songs like “Sign ‘O’ the Times” and “When Doves Cry” and focus on the drums. Although Prince was a genius guitar player, he wasn’t a half-bad drummer, either.

[Scott · Rating 2 out of 5]

I can't say I was a fan of this. Nice start hearing how Prince's music affected him growing up then his take on some of Prince's other albums and songs, most of the criticisms he posits, I couldn't disagree more with.
The trouble is he states his opinions as if they are fact and again, I couldn't disagree more with some of them.
Sometimes it Snows in April as BS? Really? It's a comment that certainly hasn't aged well knowing what month Prince passed in and now being a song that's often used as a tribute.
Enjoyed him going through the SOTT songs one by one but like a few other books I've read, the same songs are given high praise because of the usual subject matter (Dorothy Parker and If I Was Your Girlfriend especially) but a lot of other songs are certainly not a throughaway as he suggests. The album is regarded as a stonewall class for a reason, is it above criticism? Certainly not but I don't think songs like It and Hot Thing or Play in the Sunshine and Starfish and Coffee deserve the 'seen it all before from Prince' dismissive wave either. They are songs no-one else could do and you'll never hear the like of again.
So yeah, liked the thought of going through the album but in retrospect how the author went about it, not so much.
Guess we'll have to agree to disagree.

[Rob · Rating 4 out of 5]

Prince was on fire. He was dirty and complete. He was a rocker and a funker and a soul balladeer. He had music pouring out of him unstoppably, so much so he kept farming songs out to others. He was an electrifying performer but he was small and enigmatic. He had enough Hendrix in him to be granted a free pass by some, and enough Black roots genius to be pretty unimpeachable to others, however corny some of his ideas may have actually been (as on much of Around The World in a Day). So many people at this point were ready to forgive just above anything that slipped out of that purple tinged mouth or dripped from those purple lace fingers.

This book, written by Minneapolis-born journalist Michelangelo Matos, who experienced the album's release and effects in real time, as a youngster, captures that exciting moment extremely well.

The two-bar bass line on the title track WAS the song. Prince had been minimal and skeletal on Kiss, this went even more down the minimal road. But the album which took that track's name was far from minimal. Indeed, it was a roll call of the various styles that Prince had been dabbling in: smooth soul, hard-edged rock, psychedelic trappings, jazzy sections, a torch song, with bits of blues and gospel. He put it all in there. "These are all the parts of me", he seems to be saying. A double-album-length calling card. "And it could have been 4 or 5 albums if I wanted it to be."

Where does a Prince album start and finish? Perhaps that is the nagging question that would eventually prove to be his undoing in the public mind. He didn't want to be pinned down. And he was so good at all of these disparate skills. But he wanted to be known for the God-given spread of abilities almost more than for some clear irrefutable message. His after-shows were legendary: a whole performance after the main show had already been delivered without pulling any punches. He had so much material that this was like the scratching of a second and third itch, an ability to hedge his bets as well, not have to stand only for the main setlist but have so many other aces up his sleeve. His whole aura was already banked up around legendary unreleased albums and Holy Grail songs. He had cut the Revolution loose - no more Wendy or Lisa - and was presenting this album under his name alone. Which was in no way a blow to his musical ambitions, if not the polar opposite. He was unchained, unquestioned. He was knowingly in his pomp, unconvinced like anyone in their pomp that it could not last unless it was defined and then redefined. Think of Miles Davis, how the bands came and went, always getting younger and hungrier, while he harnessed what they could offer him, changing his sound, first subtly, then grandly, then radically. Miles who had effectively lost half a decade to addiction - while in his mid-20s prime - intuited the value in having a great team, and also the courage to keep changing that team up.

Prince around Sign O The Times paid little heed to that message. He did not share the focus, ever, the way Miles did with Trane. He did not look for a kindred soul to oversee his own flights, the way Miles did with Gil Evans. He did not embrace the shot of speed and freedom from his younger charges, like Miles had with his mid-60s Quintet. Where Miles incorporated new facets into his playing, straying from what we understood to be his comfort zone, Prince turned inward, drawing upon and drinking from the enviable fountain of his own genius.


Prince was 29 when Sign O The Times was released. Miles at 29 just got back on the merry-go-round, signing to Columbia and heading towards the legendary quintet albums. Miles from the age of 30 to 46 redefined jazz in just about any way you care to name, with a roll call of band members that any jazz fan would find to be like stepping unexpectedly into a 50 course tasting menu at one of the world's top restaurants. Oh the wealth of riches. And all while Miles continued struggling with his own demons.

This masterpiece that Prince released in 1987 cemented his position as an unassailable icon. But then he had to keep doing it alone. He could no longer share any of that limelight. At the age of 35, Prince changed his name to a symbol. He had even moved beyond Princeness. From the age of 35 to 42 he went under TAFKAP (The Artist Formerly Known As Prince). He had some hits, released lots of music, much of it less compelling. His tours remained legendary. But he was no longer changing everything.

He was still a great performer and remained so, but I have offered up the Miles comparison simply to look at two different paths of genius. The outpouring of brilliance on Sign O The Times is palpable. Prince is, as I said above, on fire. But he is drifting away from a sense of focus and into everythingness. In a way, he is giving in to solipsism, a purple sun for us all to revolve around. No one could now question him, because he was Prince. I'm sure few people really questioned Miles, until perhaps a little later, when he was back in the thralls of addiction, but the point was that Miles in his music was always questioning himself. All the time. And always while bouncing off his bands, leaning into rock and funk and Stockhausen, taming his own incursions to the strictures of the new concept.

I have some mixed feelings when I listen to Sign O The Times. I find it impossible to ignore the sight of a different road to the one Prince took. And while it is not my idea to question anyone's artistic route, I sometimes wonder whether or not he could have channelled all the things he had into another path. Because he was always going to be a juggernaut. And he was always going to get some form of a backlash. But instead of spreading his roots almost indiscriminately, perhaps the story could have been another one: more nuanced, more reflective, more indelible.

This was the moment when he had that call to make.

[Downward · Rating 3 out of 5]

this was fine. in some ways it tried to flex both the personal muscle and the analytical muscle, but couldn't lift either weight. the personal stuff was better, because the author's relationship to to music gave an interesting context to prince that is way outside of my personal experience in a thousand different ways, but ultimately we come to the same conclusion about the album. the analytical stuff is thinner, but I found the comparison to James Brown and Prince's reaction to the rise of hip hop to be fascinating and which shed a light on some stuff I'd never considered the context of before.

[Peter O'Connor · Rating 3 out of 5]

It can be refreshing to read something on an artist, not written by a biographer, an eyewitness or the artist themselves who may have their own agendas. What we have here instead (as with a lot of the 33/13 books) is a more heartfelt exploration of not only the album but the affect it had on the author as a teenager of that era in Minneapolis. The fact that he is roughly my age and carries the same opinion that Sign o the Times is likely Prince's greatest work made it all the more readable on a personal level.

[Russell Barton · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. Each of the 33 1/3 series has a different style and I like how the author if this one told us a lot about himself as well as the album. It made me laugh a few times, and I enjoyed the fact that as much as he likes Prince he’s not afraid to still call him a prick for some of his behaviour.

[Ethan Sleeman · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really fun piece of music writing, which does a great job of exploring the personal elements of engaging with music as much as the broader socio-cultural impact and the actual mechanics of the album. Admittedly, this particular Prince record is a ‘desert island’ choice for me, so I came in predisposed to it. But still, I think this is great writing about music.

[pianogal · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this book and I like this album. The author has a great voice and the story was as much his interaction with the album instead of a boring resuscitation of dry facts. I have a feeling I’m gonna get lost in this album in the coming weeks.

[Gabriel Franks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Yay

Very sweet tribute to Prince's masterpiece. I expected more technical details but what I got was a truly soulful sense of the writer's personal connection to the album. Not disappointed. :)

[Jonny Brick · Rating 5 out of 5]

A brilliant summation of the genius of Prince, who at the time was sequestered in his home studio. Written with as much style as a Prince guitar solo.

[George · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really liked the personal elements of this book, and it made me realise / appreciate the flawed history of the album.

[Adam Shaw · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lots in here, some to agree with, some to disagree with, some stuff I learned and some personal stuff about what the album meant to the author, all fun to read.

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

Why the 'O'? Nothing
but mystery beyond the
cluttered drums on stage

[Osvaldo · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have written a bunch about Prince's music in general and Sign o' the Times in specific, and like the author I have listened to this album with loving attention since it first came out (I was about 3 years older than the author was that year). As such, I have a lot of opinions about this record, which may have biased my reading of this book.

Full disclosure: When I became recently aware of a call for proposals to this 33 1/3 series and that the current publisher wants to take the series in a more academically rigorous direction, I immediately thought
I would write about Sign o' the Times, so while reading this my disappointment mounted, as its existence meant that I could not propose to write about it for this critically-acclaimed series, and also means that as I turned each page I could not help but think, I could write a better book about this album.

Matos and I do agree on one important thing: Sign o' the Times is Prince's best work and arguably not only his most important, but has a lot of unnoted influence on popular music that bears noting. (Is that three things?) However, we kind of part ways there.

Matos frames his discussion of the album in a personal narrative, and while at one level I can appreciate that since I can clearly remember (as he does) my first exposure to Prince and other musical artists that were meaningful for me and connect the various albums with different times in my life, sometimes he seems to linger too long on himself - to the degree that the middle section about the album is shorter than the story of the author's life.

When it comes to establishing the various side projects and rejected albums that Sign o' the Times emerged from, Matos does a great job, but he needed to spend more time on the songs themselves and needed to be a little deeper in his analysis. He writes off the queer undertones of "If I was Your Girlfriend" too quickly, and hardly spends any time on "Starfish & Coffee." He connects the title track to Prince's other political songs, but misses the clear connection between it and "1999" in terms of its apocalyptic vibe - and so on.

Don't get me wrong, he does a great job with some songs, making more of "Strange Relationship" than I had ever been able to articulate and explaining in detail why the title track was overrated and doesn't really set the tone for the rest of the record, but Prince's music is so rich, so lush, even when it is the stripped down stuff that can be found on this record, that I cannot forgive that Matos spends so few words on "Adore" or "Forever in My Life" or "The Ballad of Dorothy Parker."

I have called "Sign o' the Times" the best album of the 80s and on most days I still think so. It is not that Matos seems to disagree, but rather that his analysis seems a bit light in the context of that kind of feeling about it.

[Alex V. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Matos comes on very strong, talking about how Prince figures into his life as a welfare kid in the suburbs, and that Prince came via his mama's and aunt's record collections, but when he gets to the record itself, it's a confusing game of track comparison.

Evidently, Sign 'O The Times was meant to be a triple album fuck-you to the record company and a decaying fanbase, but was Frankenstein;d out of those sessions into one of the last great double albums. I always considered it his White Album after his obvious Sgt. Peppers-y Around the World in a Day. Lots of bands were doing it then: XTC followed Sgt. P
:Skylarking::White Album:Oranges & Lemons (with its own embarrassing Princely "Pink Thing"...but I digress, much like the author did.

The last five or so pages when the author emerges from his flowcharts and scumbled whiteboards and gets back to himself, it becomes brilliant again. My complaint here can be summed up by a singular utterance of "more talk, less rock"

[Trevor · Rating 3 out of 5]

This the third title I've read in this series. Not my favorite, but still an interesting read. This album has some of my favorite Prince songs ever (Sign O' The Times, It, Starfish and Coffee, If I Was Your Girlfriend, I Could Never Take The Place Of Your Man), and it was great to learn more about them.

I do think the author should have focused just on this album. That's the whole idea of the 33 1/3 series. One book about one album. He spends far too much of the book giving us a mini-bio of Prince. We can get that in a proper Prince bio. This book is called "Sign O' The Times". He should've stuck to just writing about the album.