The Love Symbol (1992)
1. My Name is Prince
2. Sexy MF
3. Love 2 the 9s
4. The Morning Papers
5. The Max
6. Segue
7. Blue Light
8. I Wanna Melt With U
9. Sweet Baby
10.The Continental
11.Damn U
12.Arrogance
13.The Flow
14.7
15.And God Created Woman
16.3 Chains of Gold
17.Segue
18.The Sacrifice of Victor
This was the only time in pop music history that an artist officially changed their name to a symbol—and not just any symbol, but an unpronounceable, customized glyph that no keyboard could replicate. And it wasn't a gimmick. At least not entirely. Prince’s frustration with his record label had reached a boiling point, and rather than just complain like so many others had, he made a bold—and baffling—move. From this album onward, he was no longer “Prince” but instead “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince,” a title the press latched onto with glee. The result? A whole lot more headlines, and a whole lot less focus on the actual music.
That’s a shame, because this record—his so-called Love Symbol Album—is far better than it ever got credit for. Like many of his early ‘90s releases, it suffers somewhat from bloat and a few head-scratching choices, but at its core is a strong collection of music that shows Prince doing what Prince always did best: genre-hopping, risk-taking, and pushing boundaries, even when no one asked him to.
Musically, there’s no shortage of ambition here. He jumps from pulsing club tracks to slow-burn ballads, dabbles in jazz, reggae, funk, even a little hip-hop. It’s as eclectic as anything in his catalog. The first couple of songs hit with immediate energy—especially the over-the-top My Name Is Prince, a chest-thumping mission statement if there ever was one. But then comes Sexy MF, a track so musically tight and irresistible, it’s almost a shame the chorus is so loaded with profanity. It’s hard to enjoy a song—let alone play it out loud—when every other line makes you wince. Your tolerance may vary, but even for a man known for pushing the envelope, this one feels excessive.
The album’s strongest stretch comes around the middle, where the musical experiments mostly land and the lyrics settle into something resembling focus. But it’s not all smooth sailing. Prince, never one to leave an idea on the cutting room floor, throws in a pair of fake interview “Segue” tracks featuring Kirstie Alley playing an intrepid reporter trying to get the elusive artist to speak. The result? A half-hearted concept-album storyline that feels tacked-on and mostly gets in the way.
Things get even stranger toward the end, where the record veers dangerously close to theatrical territory. Tracks like 3 Chains O’ Gold, The Morning Papers, and The Sacrifice of Victor feel more like rehearsals for a musical than entries in a pop/funk record. They’re not bad, but they pull the listener out of what had been, up until then, a pretty enjoyable ride. Maybe Prince had a larger vision in mind—some sort of genre-defying funk opera—but whatever it was, it doesn’t quite hold together.
That said, there’s still a very good album buried in here. Trim the fat, lose the interludes, tone down a lyric or two, and what’s left is yet another reminder of why Prince mattered. Even when he was confusing. Even when he was excessive. Even when he was unpronounceable. You may not always understand what he’s doing, but you can’t help but respect the fact that he kept doing it anyway.
Go back to the main page
Go to the Next Review