“Glamorous Life” by Sheila E
Here’s the thing: you need the nine-minute version of “Glamorous Life.” The lyrics cast a woman with confidence & desires, one worse than a gold-digger—actually independent, as secretly wanting love’s cage. But what hooked me on this song as a child was not Prince’s judgey shittiness, but Sheila E’s blur in singing the line “She don’t need a man’s touch,” was glamour’s allure. And what gets me now about this song is Sheila E’s five-minute percussion solo, stretching Prince’s perfect pop melody into playfully virtuosic & ass-shaking territories, jettisoning bullshit & transforming the song from within. And this is the part of the song that never ends.
Questions, compliments, (hopefully not) complaints?