Parade (1986)
1. Christopher Tracy's Parade
2. New Position
3. I Wonder U
4. Under the Cherry Moon
5. Girls and Boys
6. Life Can Be So Nice
7. Venus De Milo
8. Mountains
9. Do U Lie
10.Kiss
11.Anotherloverholeinyohead
12.Sometimes it Snows in April
Things start to get a little strange here. By 1986, Prince was arguably the most fascinating, in-demand artist on the planet. He’d already conquered radio, MTV, and the stage, so the logical next step was Hollywood. Now, you might think he’d already ticked that box with Purple Rain, but that film was really more of a long-form music video—a stylized coming-of-age piece with an iconic soundtrack attached. Under the Cherry Moon, however, was supposed to be something different. A real movie. Directed by Prince. Starring Prince. And unfortunately, judged by both fans and critics... it didn’t go so well.
I’ll admit, I never saw the film myself, but judging by the grainy black-and-white stills and word-of-mouth reviews, it sounded like a period piece with a heavy dose of art-school ambition. Maybe too much. Maybe, if your name isn’t Orson Welles, directing and starring in a moody, French Riviera romance is biting off more than you can chew. Still, give him credit—Prince never backed down from a risk. It’s just that this one didn’t pay off.
Which brings us to the actual music. Parade is technically the soundtrack to Under the Cherry Moon, but it plays more like a hybrid project—a concept record, maybe, or even an experiment in mood and style. Most fans and critics loved it. I’ve always found myself a little more on the fence. There’s a real tug-of-war going on here. Half the album is drenched in lush orchestrations, old-world romance, and cabaret jazz—songs that feel like they belong in smoky 1940s ballrooms. The other half sounds like Prince being Prince: funky, flamboyant, weird, and wildly alive. Taken separately, most of it works. Taken together, the seams start to show.
Tracks like Do U Lie? and Under the Cherry Moon are full of syrupy strings, whimsical flair, and a sort of European elegance. They’re lovely in small doses, but paired with something like Kiss—a stripped-down funk masterclass—they feel like they’re from entirely different planets. You get the sense that Prince was trying to push boundaries and show just how much he could do musically. But sometimes, trying to do everything ends up doing too much. The whole thing lacks cohesion.
And yet... there’s so much to admire. Kiss, of course, is the crown jewel—one of the funkiest, sharpest, most irresistibly oddball songs he ever cut. It’s lean, it’s mean, and it hits like a lightning bolt. Mountains and Girls and Boys aren’t far behind, full of layered grooves and that classic Minneapolis bounce. These are the songs where Prince sounds fully locked in—where the genius feels effortless. Part of me wishes he’d saved these for another album, or maybe a standalone EP. They deserve more focused company.
One odd quirk about this record is the song lengths. Several of the earlier tracks clock in under two minutes, and just when you start to get into the groove of one, it’s already fading away. By the time you reach Girls and Boys—the fifth track—you feel like you’ve listened to an entire album's worth of prelude. (It's not actually longer than the first four songs combined... but it sure feels like it.)
Commercially, Parade did just fine. Critics adored it, and the album sold well. Part of that might be timing—coming off the heels of the uneven Around the World in a Day, fans were probably relieved to hear something a little more familiar. Even if only parts of the album delivered that satisfaction, those parts were strong enough to convince many that Prince was “back.”
So no, it’s not a perfect record. And no, it’s not Purple Rain. But Parade is proof that even when Prince stumbled—or stretched too far—he still managed to land in some pretty interesting places. You might not love every turn he takes here, but there’s no denying you’re watching someone make the map up as he goes along. And more often than not, that’s where the magic lives.
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