The Dailies

Word of the Day

Minutiae (n., MINN-ooh-shee-uh)

The specific details of a particular thing. They may be trivial or ridiculously precise but they are important to someone. For example, the pronunciation of today's word, which is surprisingly different in various dictionaries.

Gif of the Day

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Link of the Day

Prince

Late yesterday, a friend at work messaged me. “When did you post ‘plectrum’ on The Dailies? That was the name of one of Prince’s last albums."

Earlier this year, we featured both one of Prince’s proteges, the magnificent Liv Warfield, and a Pitchfork “Best Songs of the 80s” list where "Purple Rain" was (rightfully) atop the list.

In college, I frequented an internet music forum. One of the more interesting and respected members adored Prince’s music.

At a Super Bowl party, I remember my friends' gospel-infused harmonizing as Prince played “Purple Rain” to close the halftime show set I will judge all halftime show sets by.

All this is to say that I don’t have a good reason for not having listened to more of Prince’s music. He was always in my “listen to this more and more closely when you get a chance” pile. What I heard amazed me. Prince’s music holds up across eras. It’s distinctly of its time but not belonging to that time either. It blends pretty near every style of music in a beautiful sonic overload. It’s produced impeccably.

Prince was a unique talent whose brilliant technique was matched by a mindblowingly restless desire to meld music into his sensual will. His music was always changing, always concocting, always experimenting. It was hard to appreciate how good Prince was until you saw him alongside others, like the time he blew the roof off “When My Guitar Gently Weeps” at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:

Or this awesome funk that he recorded when he was 19 years old:

All this is to say that I’m glad I got to enjoy Prince even if I didn’t go deep into his catalog. The music industry, basketball courts, and art in general are worse for him not being here. RIP .

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