The next day, someone came from administration with paperwork to put me on the payroll. My heart sank. I was to receive a salary of $300 a week. I could make more money belly dancing for one night than I would get paid for a month at Paisley Park.
Okay… suck it up, I told myself. My rent was being paid, and I still had a healthy stash of money in my American checking account. I was determined to prove my worth, stick out the tour, and do my best until I couldn’t any longer, and after that, Egypt would still be there. I knew it wasn’t the most financially prudent decision I’ve ever made, but by this time there was no use denying my strong feelings for this man. I didn’t really expect that to go anywhere; I just wanted to hang out with him as long as it felt right.
But just to reality check myself, I called Daddy and asked him what he thought.
This was the first time he’d seen me not know how to deal with a situation, so he flew over to see me a few weeks later. As I came out to greet him, he took my picture, and I rushed over to scold him. Taking pictures at Prince’s home and studio was simply not done. I had a Polaroid when I was pregnant, because I wanted to take pictures of my blossoming belly, but for years, there was almost a phobia of cameras in Paisley Park. Truthfully, there was something liberating about knowing there were no cameras around. There was also something very sad and lonely about it. Given the choice, I’d have to say I prefer the selfie-obsessed culture of connection that lets me see the people I love and share photos of the camera-loving puppies I rescue. I’m that mommy who Instagrams every finger painting and will archive every first day of school from kindergarten through college on Facebook Memories.
“Your dad got a little crazy when he talked to my manager,” Prince told me later.
“Oh, no…”
“I think he must have read a book about the music business on the flight over.”
“Oh, dear…”
He told me the over-the-top demands my father had tried to float. Daddy even had the nerve to ask for a point on the records, which was like asking for 20 percent of Prince’s cut. I about fainted, but Prince laughed and said, “Don’t worry. Parents can be like that. I get it. He sees me writing songs about you, and he wants to make sure you’re not being taken advantage of.”
I didn’t get a raise, but I was grateful that my dad got to see where I worked and hadn’t done anything to screw it up. I called Mama and said, “I need you to send me my things. I’m going to stay for a while.”
The New Power Generation—also known as NPG—was a movable feast of incredibly talented people who functioned as Prince’s backup band and the core of his filmmaking talent pool from 1990 until 2013. There was never really a job opening in NPG; if Prince saw something that intrigued him, he found a way to bring it into the NPG experience. If he sensed someone would be better off somewhere else, he cut them loose—even if the person was himself.
When I became part of the group in 1994, NPG was a fairly new development, but they’d found a groove that worked for them. Now here I came—a solo performer who’d always done whatever I wanted to do—and no one quite knew where I was meant to fit in. We didn’t pal around a lot while we were rehearsing for the Diamonds and Pearls Tour, but we bonded onstage and became a unit that Prince accurately referred to as family.
The drummer, Michael Bland, was a musical genius with perfect pitch, as was Sonny T. Prince would test Michael on it, and I never heard him miss. Sometimes I’d get on the bus and grunt some discordant noise, trying to stump him, and without fail he’d tilt his head to the side and nail it. “I’d call that a C sharp. Or an elephant fart. One or the other.”
Tommy Barbarella, named after the Jane Fonda movie, played keyboards. Also hair. His hair was long and wavy and key to his showmanship. I’m amazed he didn’t rupture a disc in his neck flipping and swooshing it. Tommy is also a musical genius. There was a lot of that going around at Paisley Park. During my time with NPG, he was usually shredding the keytar, which is kind of like the love child of a keyboard and a guitar, also known as the Purpleaxxe, which was actually invented and patented by Prince. (Fun fact!)
Rosie Gaines was still playing keyboards and contributing vocals that moved ceilings and walls. Sonny T. played bass, Levi Seacer played guitar, and there was a horn section. I hate to make it sound like “a movie star… and the rest,” but so many people came and went over the years, I can’t begin to list them all here, even if I did remember all their names. I will say that every one of them was unique and brilliant. There was never a member of NPG who failed to blow my mind in some way.