Prince Picks

I found a 3 cd set of Prince B-sides at the used books and cds place and gave it to Cindy. This morning I found a scrap of paper with the song titles she wants to add to her iPod:

Disc 3, #6– Feel U Up

Disc 2, #4– Head

Disc 2,#14– Sexy Motherfucker

18 thoughts on “Prince Picks

  1. Sheila Ryan

    Now morning, noon, and night
    I give u
    Til you’re burning up
    Til you get enough
    Til your love is red
    Love you til you’re dead

    Yes, yes, yes.

  2. Jonathan McNicol

    Sexy motherfucker
    Shakin’ that ass
    Shakin’ that ass
    Shakin’ that ass
    Sexy motherfucker
    Shakin’ that ass
    Shakin’ that ass
    Shakin’ that ass

    “Sexy Motherfucker” is a great song. Great.


    (I will be singing it in my head for the rest of the day now. Excellent.)

  3. India

    Cindy, I hope “Gett Off” is not on this list only because it’s already on your iPod . . . ?

    As I’ve mentioned before, at my first bookstore job we were not allowed to play inappropriate music over the store’s stereo. For example, one forbidden song was “Steamroller” by James Taylor, which contains that last little bit where he gets all excited and blurts out that he “just don’t seem to can’t lose these here”

    low down, no way up, half flying,
    freeze drying, fat frying, chicken choking, motherfucking

    steamroller blues. Ooh, scandal!

    At my second bookstore job, however—same chain, different city—we played “Sexy M.F.” on the P.A. all the motherfucking time, and nobody—not management, not customers—ever said a motherfucking word about it.

  4. Sheila Ryan

    Aw, India, you know that references to choking the chicken have no place in a retail setting.

  5. Sheila Ryan

    When I first moved to Chicago in 1984, there was a certifiable loony/outsider artist (take your pick) who plastered utility poles in my neighborhood with xeroxed religious manifestos. I especially remember his denunciation of pornography, YOU FILTHY UP YOUR EYES, YOU FILTHY UP YOUR SOUL, because I thought FILTHY UP would be a great title for a Prince tune.

  6. Phil Bebbington

    You know Sheila “Choking the chicken” has no place anywhere, but it sounds so good and anything that brings a ripple of a smile to one’s lips has to be good, right?

    So, I’m assuming that one could ” FILTHY UP” someone? Or am I drifting off down some Gin addled road?

  7. Sheila Ryan

    Phil, if by “gin-addled road” you mean to suggest some Hogarthian Gin Lane, may some divine power help you. However, if you’re just knocking back the martinis tonight, I expect there may be hope.

  8. Sheila Ryan

    What a relief, Phil. Those pustulent reminders of urban squalor do so upset my pretty notions of English whimsy and folderol.

  9. Phil Bebbington

    I do of course Sheila, live in Georgian Bath – such things are always there if you scrape at the surface too much. Of course, scraping at sores is always a bad idea.

    Oh, and yes, thank god, I was on the right road with ‘Choking the Chicken.’ Always good to clarify, although I’m quite used to making an ass of myself.

  10. Cindy Scroggins

    India, I’m hurt that you’d even need to ask.

    Sexy Motherfucker has such a nice lilt to it. I would think it appropriate to many bookstores, as well as some libraries and museums.

  11. Rick Neece

    My last Christmas at Saks, we’d gone to, oh, I don’t know what to call it. We were on a music system that played the same music in every Saks across the country, with an effort to having music different from any other retailer. The Christmas mix was approved by the higher ups, who hadn’t heard everything on it, I’m sure–a rather different holiday playlist. I loved it. Such a weird mix of music. There were so many versions of Christmas songs I’d never heard before, It had a kind of “house, jazz, hip-hop, goth, ambient” sound all wonderfully mixed from quiet to loud and back again. There was one song upon which my ears pricked, rappy. Distinctly, in one moment, there was a very apparent, “motherfucker.”

    The music played for a couple days, I commented to a co-worker, “This won’t last long.” I imagined one of “ours,” in New York, working for hours on the playlist. Somewhere along the morning of the third day, the music in the store went dead, a few minutes later, it came back on, Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.” Then traditional holiday music ever after.

    I imagined a couple queens furiously punching buttons somewhere in NY. I said to my co-worker, “See! I tole you the mutha-fucka song would’n fly.”

  12. Daryl Scroggins

    Oh, shit, thank you for this story, Rick. I just read it out to Cindy and we about pissed ourselves.

Comments are closed.