Prince’s subsequent film efforts— Under
the Cherry Moon, Sign o’ the Times, and Graffiti
Bridge—earned spots on Ebert’s “worst of the
year” lists, ultimately failing to recapture the
audience-pleasing magic of Purple Rain. However,
Prince maintained a steady output of records, always
controversial for their unambiguously erotic lyrics.
If there was a great battle in Prince’s lifetime, it was his
conflict with Warner Bros. Studios. After the success of his
album Diamonds and Pearls, WB Studios offered him $100
million to produce six more albums with them, with the
caveat that each will sell five million units or more. At that
time, it was the most lucrative contract WB had ever offered
to any artist. Unfortunately, the contract stipulated that WB
would retain ownership of all master recordings made by
Prince from 1978 until the termination of the contract.
Prince was unsatisfied with these terms, but he accepted
the contract in order to fund the upkeep of his personal
recording studio in Paisley without going bankrupt. At odds
with WB over restrictions on album production and concert
performances, Prince actually retired from recording, choosing
instead to finish the albums with unreleased songs from his personal
collection—over 500 of them. Extending a final middle finger to WB,
Prince refused to publish any more music under his given name, instead
identifying himself and his albums with an unpronounceable symbol.

Dubbed by the public “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince,” he endured
a great deal of scrutiny from displeased fans, as well as WB itself. As promised,
he went on to complete the conditions of his contract using his unpublished
materials, all the while writing new music that he intended to save for
the aftermath of his association with WB. He released a great deal of it in
Emancipation, an album he produced on much more cordial terms with EMI
Records in 1996, just before they went bankrupt. Not long afterwards, he finally
reclaimed the name “Prince,” and his distaste for record labels went down in
history.

“He was a huge inspiration to a whole generation of musicians,”
commented celebrated Canadian composer Robert Buckley during his visit
to Douglas College. “He’s really taken a stand on the pirating and exploitation
of his music. He said no to iTunes. He remained in control of his music.
Unfortunately, that might disappear now that he’s gone, but that was a brave
thing to do. He’s the one that stood his ground.”

Sadly, Buckley’s fears may not be unfounded. A great many things have
remained uncertain since Prince’s untimely death, including the lack of a will
to determine which of his siblings will receive how much of his estate. As
with any celebrity death, this case is a series of lawsuits waiting to happen,
even taking into account the appointing of Bremer Trust to oversee his estate.
Hopefully, Prince’s legacy will not be followed by a vicious legal bout of sibling
infighting.

Indeed, it seems as though tabloid media is attempting to make up for the
lost time, trying to implicate Prince as a drug addict based on the extremely
circumstantial evidence of Percocet use prior to his death—given Prince’s
recent struggle with illness and a weakening immune system, it is not
surprising that he was on pain medication. Although the autopsy report has
not been released at the time of this writing, police have ruled out suicide as a
cause of death.

Death is always sudden, even to those who expect it. The lack of a
will makes that much clear. But after death always comes remembrance;
acknowledgement that, yes, one man reached the peak of his own musical
talent, leaving behind him the indelible marks of the climb that lead up to
his passing. We must always remember that, as long as we leave something

worthwhile behind us, death does not have to mean the end for our
life’s work. It is Prince’s art that defines his life, and that is
worth remembering.