[Rapster Records]

The tribute compilation is a strange beast to judge. As I see it, the artists being paid tribute rarely have much control over who is mangling their songs or what actually ends up on the comp. Perhaps they choose the tracks receiving send ups because of licensing issues, but even then they need to say a little prayer that a Ukrainian black metal band doesn’t turn in the best rendition. So with the artist’s hands tied as the gracious recipient of tribute, it’s difficult to take away an accurate impression of the originals. Only what the recruited contributors seize upon as the as the artist’s Best Parts shine through, and even that’s a crap shoot.

So when I received a copy of Controversy, a Rapster Records tribute to Prince, my initial reaction was one of complacency. I’ve always held a lazy ambivalence toward the Purple One, and my copy of Purple Rain gets more spins while DJing house parties than any other occasion. So I was pleasantly surprised to find at least a few tracks which succeeded both as covers and as individual performances. Many of the tracks are hardly new (as Tom Pipecock points out in the comments), but the comp rescues them from obscure b-sides and soundtracks. D’Angelo’s post-hibernation “She’s Always In My Hair” is a loose and hearty opener, followed by hazy, near tropical renditions of “Alphabet Street” and “Crazy You” by Blue States and Osunlade. Rob Mello’s “Critical” is also worth a listen. Efforts by Hefner (Lee Jones’ old solo vehicle), Soulwax and Peaches emphasize what I already dislike about their work, no surprises.

There’s one track, however, which has drawn me back for rinse after rinse. Swedish vocalist, Stina Nordenstam took on the touchy task of versioning “Purple Rain,” a job she proved more than ready for. Nordenstam captures Prince’s frustration with a strikingly morose approach that’s definitely a new look for the classic track, but one that relays his sadness with mournful clarity. Nordenstam’s wistful whisper cuts through sleepy guitar, orchestral sighs and murky, abstract percussion that mimics a train hurtling over its track, like a single candle glowing in a dark forest. The way she practically gurgles the chorus — thanks, Swedish accent — is chilling and otherworldly, as are the pitches chosen. Controversy is unlike to rile up many Prince fans or stir much rifling through the back catalog (anyone buying this has all they need, methinks), but its better moments display why Prince is an inspirational figure in the first place. You can hear more tracks from Controversy on Rapster’s minisite.