There were no surprises — no adventurous, jazzy explorations such as the Club Nokia set in Los Angeles in March 2009 — just the best of what makes him such a creative force, from intimate moments alone on stage with a piano to party music that defies you to stay in your seat. Prince does not put on a show. No, this is music that demands participation. The Madison Square Garden audience more than obliged, and Prince reciprocated the love by taking us all the way to the cusp of the venue’s 11:00 p.m. curfew literally to the second, ending only because he had to.
The stage was best appreciated from higher up, with diverse lighting effects embedded in its surface; for once, being close to the stage was a disadvantage. Concert lighting at its best aspires to be like the music, not just setting a mood but embodying the same energy and motion that defines what music is. And that’s what this stage accomplished. What might have been simply a gimmick became an intrinsic part of the experience.
Between opening acts Mint Condition and Janelle Monae, the arena erupted in a frenzy as Prince, flanked by bodyguards, materialized in the audience sporting a camcorder, a white coat and dark glasses. Only it wasn’t Prince. Thousands of flashes went off and people screamed as they pressed close to the impostor, hearts aflutter over the possibility of contact, unaware that they were being duped. It wasn’t apparent at the time, but you can tell it was a look-alike because a video posted on You Tube shows a man with a different haircut from the Prince that appeared later onstage. I don’t know if it was sanctioned by Prince, but it seems like the kind of practical joke the purple prankster would find amusing.