Jan 80 06-01-1980 : Midnight Special Shooting – aired 11-01-80
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- WHY YOU WANNA TREAT ME SO BAD US
- American Bandstand (VH1)
- Rick James ‘Fire It Up’ Tour
- 1980 - Jan 80
(NBC Studios, Burbank)
I Wanna Be Your Lover / Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad ? 
Mid 01-1980 : Denver Rainbow Music Hall Prince plays a one-off show at the Rainbow Music Hall, Denver. The gig was organised by Prince’s management as a “warm-up” for his 1980 tour. After the concert, teenage girls surrounded a trailer that functioned as the dressing room for the band. They began pounding on it and a window broke. It was a considerable effort for the band members to get from the dressing room to the car. Then a wild chase ensued as the band tried to shake the trailing fans. 23-01-1980 : WHY YOU WANNA TREAT ME SO BAD US Single Release Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad ? (3:49) / Baby (3:09)
26-01-1980 : e American Bandstand (VH1) (Taped 16-12) (0:09) I Wanna Be Your Lover / Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad ? In early 1980, Prince made three US TV appearances with his band : Soul Train, The Midnight Special, and American Bandstand, where Prince was miffed when Dick Clark asked him how he could come from Minneapolis "of all places." When Clark wanted to know how long he had been a musician, Prince said nothing and held up four fingers. Rumors say that Prince did not want to be interviewed because of his shyness. In fact, his performance was deliberate : he would have prevented his band before their interpretation that he would not answer questions from Clark. Patrice Rushen was also invited at the show. 
While there is something mercenary about Prince, it’s an important record in the artist’s creative development. It starts brilliantly, and Prince would use the first two songs to launch himself to a wider audience in January 1980, lip-synching with the band to ‘I Wanna Be Your Lover’ and ‘Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad ?’ on the then-popular Saturday-night rock show Midnight Special and Dick Clark’s American Bandstand. The American Bandstand performance also included an early and important part in Prince’s creation of his popular image : an interview with Dick Clark that the veteran host would later describe as the most difficult he’d ever done. Although Clark lay the blame on Prince, this was no Bill Grundy moment. Prince sounded polite and shy, as Clark interviewed him in the sort of tone avuncular hosts usually reserve for maths or chess prodigies. His questions were insulting, suggesting that Prince’s music wasn’t the sort of thing that usually came out of his home town, making fun of his youth (which visibly increased Prince’s anxiety, as he had shaved two years off his age), joking about Matt Fink’s outfit – ‘The man who escaped on keyboards,’ he joshed, as Fink had yet to start dressing up as a doctor and was instead wearing a striped shirt and dark glasses, which did, admittedly, make him look like a convict – and mocking his ability to play many instruments. When Prince paused to recollect how many instruments he could play, Clark turned to the audience and made fun of him, and then questioned why he needed a band. The only moment when Prince truly appeared in any way provocative was when he answered how many years ago he recorded his demos by holding out four fingers in Clark’s face. Bandstand’s producer Larry Klein later defended Prince, saying that the audiences who were offended by his perceived rudeness to Clark ‘misinterpreted what [he thought] was basic shyness on Prince’s part’. Pepe Willie, however, says : ‘I ripped him a new one on that one. I didn’t understand that at all. He came back to Minnesota, and I said to him, “What the hell happened to you ?” I was so pissed at him because the media was something we needed. I wanted him to call radio stations and thank them for playing his records. He wouldn’t do that, not after Dick Clark. What happened, he got stage fright, and he told me, “That will never happen again, Pepe.” From then on, in his interviews, he never talks about his family, always about music, he never talks about his friends. It’s what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t want anything to do with Owen Husney, which is terrible, or Chris Moon.’ Though Klein suggests it was shyness, and Willie stage fright, Dickerson writes in his autobiography that it was deliberate and that Prince had instructed his band not to talk to Clark backstage before they went on. Gayle Chapman agrees that this was the real reason : ‘Prince told us when he started the interview we were not to say anything. Dick Clark is a professional at his gig and he had this child on his show thinking he’s being mysterious. No smiling and no talking. And I couldn’t help it – Dick said my name and I smiled.’ Feb 80 ??-??-1980 : Hohner "Telecaster" Guitar 
Bought in 1980 from Knut Koupee Music store in Mineapolis, Prince according to Karl Dedolph, the store’s manager, probably chose the guitar because of it's leopard skin pickguard which matched his stage outfit. The budget guitar's raw tone was ideal for the clean guitar chugging and staccato rhythms of Punk-Funk. He used it whilst supporting Rick James that year, on the "Dirty Mind" album and on almost every tour to date. A Telecaster variant, the guitar differs greatly to the Fender industry standard. The Hohner is all maple finished in blonde, as opposed to the Ash and Alder body of a Fender. The tonal properties of Maple suit the artist well, it has a bright top end and good sustain; he chose this wood for all his later custom guitars. The Hohners distinctive imitation Mahogany binding on the edges and central join bind a two-piece figured Maple top, the neck is also highly figured one piece affair. The pickups and wiring also differ from a Fender, the Hohner has two bridge style single coils with raised pillars and passive wiring; also there is no treble inducing metal plate at the bridge. The cheaper construction of the Hohner gave rise to problems in the studio, according to Kyle Bess, one time staff engineer at The Recording Plant in L.A., Prince insisted on the guitar, favouring it's tone which he once described as "Raggedy". Discontinued re-issues of the guitar called "Hohner Proffesional Te Prinz" can still be tracked down. ??-02-1980 : Soul Train ----------- O(+> Need more info about this entry 06-02-1980 : Minneapolis Star Jon Bream interviewed Prince over the phone before his hometown concert at the Orpheum Theatre on the Prince tour. The interview was published in Minneapolis Star, February 6th 1980. LOCAL TALENT HAS HEADS TURNING A lot of people don't know what to make of Prince. They don't understand his music, they don't understand the unusual outfits he wears and they don't understand how such an extraordinary young talent could come from Minneapolis. That tripped me out when Dick Clark asked how I could come from Minneapolis, of all places. That really gave me an attitude for the rest of the talk. TV personalities are hard to talk to. They come out of certain bags. Music is music. A place is a place. Like Stevie Wonder’s music, Prince's material seems to elude classification. When he took his band on a brief concert tour this winter, the audiences and critics didn’t quite know what to make of Prince, he says. “They didn’t understand that we are trying to bridge the worlds of rock, funk, jazz and whatever. The critics were led to believe we would be laid-back because of the albums. The albums are not as fiery as the concert. Older people found it hard to get into us. The kids were the smartest. They are ready for a change. You have to tell them the truth, whether it's politics, lyrics, music, school, busing. Kids are a lot more aware. We can't dress in three piece suits or glitter outfits or raggedy clothes. It’s basically us. I wear what I wear because I don’t like clothes. This is what's most comfortable. People should wake up and not worry about what people think about them. Like it was in the '60s. The crowds at concerts were wilder than the acts sometimes. It was live. Now it's all commercial and cool. We'll suffer a slow death like that”. Only one local radio station – a disco-oriented one - regularly played the record, but Prince didn't expect much air play here anyway. “Until radio programmers wake up to the fact that we are far behind here, people will probably want to leave if they can. I’d play their record even if it wasn't good music. If it's good music, it's good music. I’m not saying mine is good. But if it charted, it must be good. It surprised me that ”I Wanna Be Your Lover” became a hit. I basically make songs I like. And I like excitement and surprise”. 09-02-1980 : MPLS Orpheum Theater * Advert. Start : 8:00PM / Attendance : 1.000 / 2.300 / Tick. Price : $9.50 / $8.50 (Opening Act : Keenan Ivory Wayans)
After the discontinued 1979 tour, Prince opens his 1980 tour with a concert at the 2.300-seat Orpheum Theater in Minneapolis. Although “I Wanna Be Your Lover” was a big hit, the concert only drew about 1.000 people. With the same band as on the 1979 concerts, Prince headlined mostly club dates all over the States. The Orpheum Theater concert was his first home-town appearance since the debut performances a year earlier. The 70-80-minute set was built around For You and Prince. Also introduced in the set during the tour was a new song, "Head," which had Prince and Gayle simulating a fellatio act on stage. Undoubtedly, the predominantly black audiences who saw Prince on tour in 1980 were surprised to find the relatively soft and laid-back music of his records re-arranged into hard rock on stage. The band’s physical appearance also set Prince apart from being just another black soul act. Dressing more outrageously than before, Prince wore little more than zebra-striped bikini briefs, legwarmers and high-heel shoes. Some critics were so taken by the appearance of Prince and his band that they couldn’t get away from the topic of Prince’s underwear and focus instead on the music. However, as reviewer Reginald Roberts, writing for New Orleans Times-Picayune, pointed out, Prince was not one to worry about the response : “He conveyed a silent message : "Here I am, and I don’t care what you think !"” Twin Cities Reader's (a local entertainment paper) Laura Fissinger described the audience reaction : “The fellow dancing alone in front of me has skin that looks like polished mahogany next to the thick, off-white fold of what appears to be a cashmere collar. "You writing this for someone ? Well let me tell you what the scene is here : Prince is bringing a rock thing to the black community. You see this place is rocking, yes ?" He gestured emphatically to the houseful of bobbing silhouettes. Above and around his voice in my ear, Prince's guitar rolled a funk groove into a rock one. "No white person could do it, you hear what I’m saying ? And you’re feeling not only a musical approval, but pride ! He's a hometown boy, you know, and these folks are proud tonight." Michael Anthony, Minneapolis Tribune, was also enthusiastic : “It’s a flashy show. Prince is definitely out to show what he can do onstage, and though there certainly were moments of calculation and contrivance in the set, the show demonstrated his considerable potential as a performer.” 
Pepe and Prince drifted apart in the ensuing years, but Pepe stayed in touch and followed Prince's career. He was in attendance for Prince's next performance in Minneapolis, at the Orpheum Theatre in February 1980. I saw the show at the Orpheum Theatre. We gave him total support there. We knew that he was on his way. He looked and acted more professional, the band was more professional, his management team was a lot more professional. I was very proud of him at that time. We were very close still, but I wasn’t much involved in his career moves. I thought that the Dirty Mind album was funky, but it wasn't my favourite album. A lot of people loved that album, but I didn't like it because I didn't support the sexual things that Prince did. I liked his earlier stuff but when the Dirty Mind album came out, it was a bit hard for me to take. It was funky, it was raw. I loved the music, but I didn't like the lyrics. We started drifting apart at that time. He was just too busy. He wasn't rehearsing at my place any more, but we stayed in contact. I was present at a lot of his parties. I walked in on a lot of his rehearsals, he and the band were always happy to see me and we always had a good time. 
Inside The Purple Reign (84) By Jon Bream “I Wanna Be Your Lover,” a peppy tune with breathy falsetto vocals, reached Number One on the soul charts in December of 1979. That greatly pleased Warner Bros. But Prince had other dreams. “The second record [featuring ‘Lover’] was pretty contrived,” he told Robert Hilburn of the Los Angeles Times a few years after the fact. “I just made it a hit album.” The song landed Prince and his band on TV’s “American Bandstand” and “Midnight Special.” After the group lipsynched its way through the hit, Dick Clark sauntered into the picture and declared, “I can’t believe you come from Minneapolis !” The tone of the comment did not sit well with Prince. So he copped an attitude that didn’t sit well with Clark. “How many instruments do you play ?” the ageless host asked. “Thousands.” Prince came off as rude. But he didn’t see it that way. “That tripped me out when Dick Clark asked how I could come from Minneapolis of all places,” Prince said shortly after his first TV encounter in January of 1980. “That really gave me an attitude for the rest of the talk. Music is music. A place is a place. I don’t know where he expected me to come from.” Maybe this was the first appearance of his rude-boy attitude. A few weeks later at a concert in Minneapolis he revealed the real Prince. He came onstage in zebra-pattern bikini briefs and leg-warmers. And he made “I Wanna Be Your Lover” seem like a candy-floss come-on. Right onstage in front of 2,600 people, he French-kissed keyboardist Gayle Chapman. And as his dad sat in the orchestra pit at the Orpheum Theater, Prince tore into “Head.” “I think we’ve become stranger - our personalities,” said the bandleader, comparing how the group had changed since its first Minneapolis performance thirteen months earlier. “I think we are a little bit more comfortable in our image. We all felt that we’ve wanted to dress this way, talk this way, and play this way. When we first went out, it was like shock treatment. Because some of the places we played were really behind and they [audiences] were older, too, so they were really tripped. We know for a fact that we can’t dress in three-piece suits or glitter outfits, or we can’t dress so raggedy till no one will want to watch us anyway. It’s just basically us. I wear what I wear because I don’t like clothes, It’s the most comfortable thing I can find. I’ve gotten a lot of criticism for it. Everybody thinks I’m gay or a freak and all kinds of things like that [giggles] but it doesn’t bother me. It’s just me. That’s the way I am. I let it all hang down. People should wake up to life like that and not worry what everyone else is thinking about them. In the ‘60s, it was just like that; nobody cared what anybody else thought. People would go to concerts with their mother’s clothes on if they wanted and paint all over their face and it didn’t even matter. They were just as wild as the acts were, if not wilder. It was live. Everything now is getting commercial and cool. We’ll suffer a slow death like that - musicians and audiences.” Kids, he said, are the smartest members of the audience. That’s what he learned on his truncated first tour. “They’re ready for a change. You have to tell them the truth now. You can’t play around when it comes to politics, lyrics, music, school, busing, the whole works. They just seem a lot more aware. The older people are going to have to listen to them.” Yet Prince doesn’t aim his songs at kids. He essentially creates material that he likes. “I like to surprise. I like excitement.” And that became apparent in 1980. 
11-02-1980 : Cincinatti Bogart’s * Advert. Start : 8:00PM / Attendance : 450 / 1.300 / Tick. Price : $5.50 (Opening Act : Keenan Ivory Wayans)  
14-02-1980 : Philadelphia Emerald City * Advert. Start : 10:00PM / Attendance : 400 / Sold Out / Tick. Price : $9.00 / $7.50 (Opening Act : Nona Hendryx & Zero Cool)
* Advert. Start : 8:00PM (1) / 11:00PM (2) / Attendance : ? / 400 / Tick. Price : $7.00 (Opening Act : Keenen Ivory Wayans)
* Advert. Start : 8:00PM (1) / 11:00PM (2) / Attendance : ? / 400 / Tick. Price : $7.00 (Opening Act : Keenen Ivory Wayans)
* Attendance : ? / 730 (Opening Act : Keenen Ivory Wayans)
Prince’s set focuses on the last album. Traditionally, the setlist is as follows : "Soft And Wet", "Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad", "Still Waiting", “I Feel For You", "Sexy Dancer", "Just As Long As We're Together", "I Wanna Be Your Lover". He sometimes add "Head" and "When You Were Mine" was sometimes included in the set a few times at the end of the tour. The shows were billed as a ‘Battle of Funk’ between Prince and Rick James. Dickerson believes that Prince easily got the best response, arguing, ‘The freshness of Prince’s sound, the fact that he was being touted by the black teen mags as the next matinee idol, the sheer energy and flamboyance of the band and the show … all just added up to us destroying the audience every night, while Rick would struggle.’ James, however, remembered things differently, writing in his autobiography : ‘At the end of his set he’d take off his trench coat and he’d be wearing little girl’s bloomers. I just died. The guys in the audience just booed the poor thing to death.’ It seems odd that James would pick on Prince’s dress sense to ridicule him, as his own stage wear wasn’t that dissimilar: it’s not as if leather chaps, a bullet belt and neckerchief is that much more sensible than Prince’s trench coat and briefs. James was forced to admit that Prince’s performance improved during the tour, but he argued that this was because the younger artist was cribbing from his act. The importance of pleasing the audience – such an important part of Prince’s early studio records – was even more prevalent onstage. Announcing the title of the second song, ‘Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad ?’, as a question before launching into it, he would change the song from a rebuke to a lover to an encouragement to an audience that was already screaming its approval. These were less rock shows than mass seductions. Before starting ‘Just as Long as We’re Together’, in a voice noticeably softer than his singing voice (or his famously deep speaking voice), he’d sweetly enquire of the audience, ‘Is everybody wet ?’ It was also during this tour that Matt Fink adopted his arresting onstage uniform of green scrubs, a white face mask, hat, shades and stethoscope. Although this was in 1979, the image is as indelibly 1980s as Max Headroom : this strange, jerking figure at the back of the stage, ready to take off on a synth solo whenever Prince shouts ‘Doctor !’ – an essential part of what makes this band so visually interesting. popMATTERS (2012) Like Prince, James issued his debut album in April of 1978. But he was the first to enjoy chart success and position himself as the next prominent figure in funk. James wrote, arranged and produced Come Get It ! as a satisfying blend of hedonism and romance. It included thrusting grooves such as “You and I”, soul searching ballads like “Hollywood” and reeked of sex and drugs with “Sexy Lady” and “Mary Jane”. James dominated on bass while sporting a healthy horn section and relied on bright female backup vocals. His own singing was teasing and raw, but never too emotional to completely tarnish the party vibes. James’ presented his cheeky style as “Punk Funk”, a clever marketing tool made to distance his blasting tunes from disco. That reputation further emphasized his fresh and unapologetic approach, shielding him from any risk of looking outdated. That was a key sentiment sought by James’ label, Motown. The prestigious label was an empire in decline during the late ‘70s. Its recent film endeavors flopped and many of Motown’s classic acts were gone, and resident genius Stevie Wonder was losing his edge with a concept album exploring the life of plants. So Rick James’ street smarts and appeal were in desperate need, bursting through with perfect timing. James’ punk attitude and labeling also hinted a sacred bond with the disenfranchised, intriguing fans overseas. In a 1979 Blues and Soul interview, he pointed out the similarities shared by UK punks and his own rough experiences: “To me, a punk is someone who says what’s on his mind and doesn’t take no shit. Punk… is relatable [to funk] because punk rock was poor, white British kids whose only vehicle to get away from their suppression and economic stress was through their music… Now, I was born in the ghetto and everyone in my band has starved and we’ve all been through the rats and roaches syndrome. We’re from the streets and we’ve been through the gang trip, too.” Rick James was 30 years old then, enjoying his big break after roaming around since the late ‘60s. Previously, he served some jail time for minor felonies, played with numerous bands and tried his luck in Toronto, Los Angeles, and London. 
Meanwhile, Prince was barely 20 years old. He still boasted his high school afro and lived in his somewhat remote hometown of Minneapolis. Despite those odd circumstances, the young Prince secured a three-album record deal with Warner Brothers. His 1978 debut, For You, consisted mostly of bashful love songs that didn’t quite excite as much as James’ entry onto the scene. It was a rather moody album - even its lead single, “Soft and Wet”, wasn’t so daring. Despite acting as a one man R&B band—writing, arranging, producing and performing—Prince was still far from being in full swing. His wider musical spectrum rarely shined, only glimpsed through rocking tunes like “I’m Yours”. Vocally, he maintained a high pitch, which proved a bit tiring due to excessive overdubbing. The uneven effort and modest sales further increased Prince’s fears that he might be mismanaged by Warner’s industry-standard “Black Music Department”. He would soon pen more risqué tunes than before and establish a distinct image to avoid any kind of labeling. Almost effortlessly, Rick James was on a roll with his subsequent releases. Bustin’ Out of L Seven (1978) and Fire It Up (1979) quickly went gold, keeping intact James’ devious tradition of featuring himself with at least one girl on the cover. He also continued to avoid the strong social commentary funk was known for earlier in the decade, and showed no interest in creating a sci-fi alter-ego like George Clinton and his adventurous space cadets band, Parliament. Instead, he composed his funk tunes as a marching band for freaks - one of his most commonly used adjectives. In many of his songs, James presented himself as the natural go-to-guy for any kind of action. Resting his case in “Come into My Life”, he sweetens the deal by promising to “bring my private stash if you come”. James had a knack for pounding beats and didn’t permit long improvised solos. Still, he enjoyed shout outs, like “Horns Blow !”, cueing his group to step up. At times, James appeared as strict as James Brown was when he bossed around the J.B’s. But often enough, James led his parade at ease, demanding satisfaction and promising liberation for all the dancers, hustlers, and druggies to come his way. Prince went on to record his self-titled second album in 1979, carrying a more reserved, mystical persona. He gave rare and awkwardly brief interviews which didn’t quite complement his newfound musical aggressiveness. “Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad” and “Bambi” soared with crushing sexual frustration; ballads such as “It’s Gonna Be Lonely” and “When We’re Dancing Close and Slow”, were now eerily erotic instead of hopelessly romantic. He generated profound intimacy by sparse instrumentation, soft voice and confessional lyrics, such as “sex related fantasies is all that my mind can see/ baby, that’s honestly the way I feel”. The looming theme of obsession was mostly sugar coated, for the time being, in the up tempos of “I Wanna Be Your Lover” and “I Feel for You”. Thus, Prince’s sophomore release was catchy enough to earn him his first immediate commercial success, including a national TV performance on American Bandstand. Rick James 
Prince and Rick James were turning heads as the new men of funk. Each was a bluntly sexually driven figure who was exciting to follow as he groomed a musical talent about to manifest in its entirety. Yet to fully crossover, both continued to depend upon the same fan base of young black Americans. In 1979, James had begun hearing about Prince without giving him a second thought. However, concert promoters regarded them as two of a kind and a guaranteed attraction if billed together. Soon, Prince was slated as James’ opening act for the Fire It Up tour. An inevitable clash was on its way. James’ baffling first impression is duly noted in his autobiography The Confessions of Rick James: Memoirs of a Super Freak (2007): “The first time I saw Prince and his band I felt sorry for him. Here’s this little dude wearing hi-heels, playing this New Wave Rock & Roll, not moving or anything on stage, just standing there wearing this trench coat. Then at the end of his set he’d take off his trench coat and he’d be wearing little girl’s bloomers. I just died. The guys in the audience just booed the poor thing to death.” Other accounts suggest Prince made a point in upstaging James. Either way, tensions were running high throughout the tour. Backstage shenanigans of stealing instruments, physical confrontation and general intolerance were served cold by each artist. Long after parting ways, Prince and James never resolved their resentment and remained touchy when comparisons were drawn between them. For both, the ‘80s marked the beginning of trying times and notable turning points. Prince released Dirty Mind in 1980, which gained him the most notorious reputation he could have ever hoped for. His sexual frustration was slowly graduating into sheer confidence. Prince’s sensitivity in “When You Were Mine” and “Sister” had led to a challenging moral and sexual ambiguity. His desire was no longer confined to a traditional adult relationship. He also started to represent a collective thought, similar to Rick James upon backing those in need of “Bustin’ Out”. Prince’s “Uptown” and “Party Up” were also songs that projected the dance floor as the vital sphere in which a new breed will arise, free of any hang ups. He further crystallized this progressive idea with his own multi-racial and gender-bender backing group, soon to be dubbed The Revolution. Prince adapted wholeheartedly the New Wave sound on Dirty Mind, and his subsequent albums also included plenty of synthesizer-based tunes, ditching the traditional funk gear and sound. He eschewed a “Punk Funk” tag to his current musical direction, but he did dress the part. He performed nearly in the nude with a new borderline spiky haircut, while attaching a “Rude Boy” pin to his coat, embracing the calling card of Ska-heads. He was also pleased to preach to NME straight out of the punk manifesto in 1981:”All the groups in America seem to do just exactly the same as each other - which is to get on the radio… Obviously, the new wave thing has brought back a lot of that greaser reality. There are so many of those groups that there is just no way many of them can make it in those vast commercial terms. So they have no choice but to write what’s inside of them. I think it’s all getting better, actually.” 22-02-1980 : Fort Worth Tarrant Convention Center Prince plays Tarrant Convention Center, Fort Worth, the first date of the nine weeks tour with Rick James 23-02-1980 : Shreveport Hersham Coliseum * Advert. Start : 8:00PM / Tick. Price : $8.50 / $7:50 (Opening Act : Instant Funk) 24-02-1980 : Houston Sam Building * Advert. Start : 8:00PM (Opening Act : Instant Funk)
* Tick. Price : $10.50 Matt Fink becomes Doctor Fink Matt Fink, who was re-christened Doctor Fink, dressed in an entire surgical outfit, complete with rubber gloves, stethoscope and surgical mask. He just wanted to avoid comparison with Rick James, who was singing a song dressed as a prisoner. Prince used a Fender Telecaster and a Gibson L6S for this concert. Matt became "Dr. Fink" during the Rick James "Fire It Up Tour" when Prince was the opening act. Wearing a jail outfit quite similar to one of Rick James outfit on "Bustin Out (On Funk)", Prince asked Fink to change his image and come up with ideas : "In one video I wore a tacky looking paratrooper's jumpsuit. It was actually Prince's, but didn't fit him. I had also worn a black-and-gold suit with tails a la "Elton John". He said : "nah...it's been done before". I was also looking at trying to do something in black leather, but there wasn't enough time to get that together... Another idea was a guy in a doctor's suit. He perked up on that one. He said : "why don't try you try on a doctor's suit and you can become Dr. Fink". He sent his wardrobe person out in Chicago - we were on the road - who brought back a pair of scrubs, a stethoscope and a mask." 29-02-1980 : Chicago Uptown Theater * Tick. Price : $10.50 Mar 80
* Attendance : 2.952 / ? 02-03-1980 : Pittsburgh Stanley Theater * Attendance : 2.951 / ? 05-03-1980 : Greenville Coliseum
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