The world
lost a musical icon on April 21. You'll read about his impact as a musician and
an entertainer elsewhere, but let's take a second to look at Prince's
career-spanning fights on behalf of working people.
For more
than 40 years, Prince was a union member, a long-standing member of both the Twin Cities Musicians Local 30-73(link
is external) of the American Federation of Musicians and SAG-AFTRA,(link is external) the
Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists.
Beginning
with "Ronnie Talk to Russia" in 1981 on through hits like "Sign
o' the Times" and later works like "We March" and
"Baltimore," Prince's music often reflected the dreams, struggles,
fears and hopes of working people. And he wasn't limited to words; his Baltimore concert in the wake of Freddie
Gray's death raised funds to help the city recover.
Few of America 's artists have so well captured the
plight of working Americans as Prince, putting him in the line of artists like
Woody Guthrie and Bruce Springsteen as working-class heroes.
Ray Hair,
president of AFM, spoke of Prince's importance: "We are devastated about
the loss of Prince, a member of our union for over 40 years. Prince was not
only a talented and innovative musician, but also a true champion of musicians’
rights. Musicians—and fans throughout the world—will miss him. Our thoughts are
with his family, friends and fans grieving right now."
And this is
a key part of his legacy. Prince was deeply talented and could have easily made
his success without much help from others. And yet he was a massive supporter
of other artists, from writing and producing songs for artists as diverse as
Chaka Khan, the Bangles, Sinéad O'Connor, Vanity, Morris Day and the Time and
Tevin Campbell (among many others) to his mentoring and elevating of women in
music, to the time where he put his own career on the line in defense of the
rights of artists. And every musician that came after owes him a debt of
gratitude.
The music
industry has a deeply troubled past, with stories of corporations exploiting
musicians, especially African-American musicians, being plentiful enough to
fill libraries. At the height of his popularity, Prince decided that he would
fight back. He was set, financially and career-wise, and had nothing to gain
from taking on the onerous contracts that artists were saddled with when they
were young, inexperienced and hungry. If he lost everything by taking on the
industry, he still had money and fame to rely on. But he knew this wasn't true
for many other musicians, and Prince was always a fan of music, and he knew
that taking on this battle would help others. So he took on the recording
industry on behalf of music. On behalf of the industry's working people—the
musicians themselves.
And it cost
him his name and his fame.
In the
ensuing battle, Prince famously renounced his birth name and began performing
under an unpronounceable symbol instead of a name. He fought the company at
every turn, even writing the word "slave" on his face in protest of
the conditions he worked under.
He said:
"People think I'm a crazy fool for writing 'slave' on my face. But if I
can't do what I want to do, what am I?" For the rest of his career, which
never recovered to his early heights, he continually fought to change the way
that record companies treated artists, explored new ways to distribute music to
fans and battled to give artists more control and more revenue for the art they
create.
In a
still-changing musical landscape, Prince was one of a handful of artists who
helped shape a future where musicians, working people, get the fruits of their
labor.
> The article above is reprinted from the national AFL-CIO blog.
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