Rap, Crackle And Pop

By Guy Garcia

PERFORMER: PRINCE AND THE NEW POWER GENERATION

ALBUM: (Logo consisting of stylized combination of sex symbols for male and female)

LABEL: WARNER

THE BOTTOM LINE: The pharaoh of funk gets personal on a raunchy, catchy new album, his best in years.

NEVER SHY ABOUT VOICING HIS intentions, Prince gets right to the point in the opening seconds of his new album, (logo symbol): "My name is Prince/ And < I am funky/ I am Prince/ The one and only." It's no idle boast. The record, his first since signing an unprecedented $100 million deal with Warner Records earlier this year, aims -- and succeeds -- at nothing less than reasserting his rightful place in the pop pantheon. Effortlessly inventive and seething with melodic and rhythmic vitality, this collection of raunchy rap riffs, detonating dance rhythms and silky soul ballads is Prince's best album in years, proving that his pioneering amalgam of funk, rock and pop is as fresh and potent as ever.

Like the enigmatic emblem that serves as its title, the album, which its creator describes as "rock soap opera," flirts with esoteric meanings as it chronicles the love affair between a pop superstar named Prince and the princess of a fictional Middle Eastern kingdom. Still struggling to reconcile his animal instincts with his loftier passions, Prince once again bares his tortured muse -- a silver-throated satyr torn between heaven and hell. But this time around, the paradox is addressed with a wry self-awareness that suggests he has struck a productive truce with his old demons. Chaste confections like And God Created Woman, Sweet Baby and Damn U are balanced by the pelvis-pounding grooves of The Max and the jazzy, snazzy Sexy M.F., which will be released in edited and unexpurgated versions.

Interspersed among the songs is a series of phone conversations between Prince and an intrepid reporter named Vanessa Bartholomew, sportingly played by Cheers TV star Kirstie Alley. "Why do you pretend to be a maze?" she asks in exasperation. "I'm amazed at your beauty," Prince replies. But his real answer seems to be in the lyric of My Name Is Prince, in which he declares, "I know from righteous I know from sin/ I got two sides and they're both friends."

Despite his continuing need to shroud himself in sexual and emotional ambiguity, Prince, unlike Michael Jackson, has never let fame insulate him from reality. His kinky kingdom is alive with the voices and concerns of ordinary people; in standout cuts like 7, The Morning Papers and The Sacrifice of Victor, the music teems with monologues, dialogues and soaring gospel exhortations, all conjoining in a communion of anger, hope and harmony. The irony is sweet enough for even the pharaoh of funk to savor. After years of penitential posing, Prince has looked into his jaded soul and found creative deliverance.