In a particularly lovely moment, Tippett, wearing a Super Bowl ring, laid down some vocals for Raspberry Beret inside Studio B and took them home on a purple flash drive as a souvenir. This longtime Prince fan remembered the last time Minnesota hosted a Super Bowl, in 1993, when Prince turned up at the First Avenue nightclub for a surprise performance.
A performance like that by Prince is one of many to win the hearts of locals, who awaited word of his legendary late-night appearances, usually made accessible to the people of the Twin Cities, including one after-party where he played for three hours for the 25 people who stayed long after Madonna had left.
First Avenue is hosting a Purple Party Saturday night and a tribute to the Minneapolis sound. Prince sites like his favorite record store, The Electric Fetus, are another stop.
In Minneapolis, Prince was family, people grew up with him. There's no debate here whose halftime performance was the greatest of all time (apologies to any Philly fans partial to Bruce), and people here do not seem offended like some Prince fans about Timberlake renting out Paisley Park. The Muppets once did, too.
Annette Schultz, who went to the Dakota to see fDeluxe, remembers in high school driving over to the purple house where Prince lived during the Purple Rain era, also in Chanhassen, where they assumed the place across the street was "old man Johnson's farm," referenced in the lyrics of Raspberry Beret. "It is completely weird without Prince," Schultz said. "We glom onto any attachment to Prince."
Before the late show, a funk dance party which ended with an ethereal Nothing Compares 2 U, where at least one man could be seen wiping away tears, Jellybean Johnson put it this way:
"I miss him, I love him, he made me famous. You know we're just moving on, trying to keep his name out there."
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