Gina Bower
Brandon Beebe doesn’t imitate Prince. It’s deeper than that — he wants to let the spirit of Prince live through him.
Beebe, who fronts Purple Veins at the Majestic Theater on Sept. 24, is usually not a fan of tribute acts. The singer/songwriter makes plenty of his own music and has a vigorous solo career. He’s played SXSW and shared the stage with such luminaries as Kandace Springs, Meshell Ndegeocello, Zoe Keating, PHOX, Dessa and more.
But since April — when the world learned that Prince died of an accidental overdose of Fentanyl — Beebe’s been obsessed with putting on a show to end all shows.
I attended Beebe’s Prince tribute at the High Noon Saloon in 2011, and having seen the real deal (Purple Rain Tour, Dec. 1984), I wasn’t sure what to expect from this soft-spoken guitar player. Beebe’s transformation was complete. His prodigious guitar and vocal talent and his physical similarity to Prince were uncanny — clearly the result of serious study. It was all there: pop perfection, harmonies, horns, lights, choreography, purple and lace. The sold-out crowd was ecstatic. And then he announced that it was the last time we’d see him as Prince (“Dearly beloved…”).
I invited Beebe, who arrived on a bike sporting a baseball cap from First Avenue (Prince’s Minneapolis stomping ground), to discuss what it takes to strut like His Purple Majesty.
Gina Bower
Beebe tore up the High Noon Saloon at the last tribute show in November 2011.
What made you come out of Prince retirement to prepare a tribute?
I wanted to do something big to pay tribute to who I feel was the greatest performing artist that the pop music world has ever seen. When he died, it had a profound impact on me, like Obi-Wan Kenobi feeling a “disturbance in the Force.” It may sound like a pretty funny comparison, but I always felt that Prince was a Jedi master. In one of his songs he even describes himself as the “purple Yoda from the heart of Minnesota.”
What is your goal for the show at the Majestic?
I want to breathe life into his musical legacy, to spread it to people who may not know the power that his music has — especially in a live context.
What is it about Prince’s music that motivates you?
He was a deeply inspiring, intriguing and challenging artist who stood for so many things, but most of all, freedom in the purest sense. Artistic freedom, for sure, but also the freedom to be unique, to go against the expected, to break down the walls.
In 2011, you already had an enormous group onstage. Is it possible to top that show?
I’m not saying we’ll come close to what Prince did, because literally no one can — but in even scraping the surface, I believe people will be blown away. We’ve got about 20 performers, costume changes, dance choreography, horns, strings, tight harmonies, loud guitars, synthesizers, fog, lights, sexual energy, improvisation mixed with careful precision and, most of all, that deep funk. Dance, music, sex, romance!
Earlier you mentioned something about Prince’s message about racial harmony.
We hope to bring together a diverse crowd for this show. I’ve been to and played to shows with all-white crowds and all-black crowds, but not many with a healthy mix. Music is that universal language that has the ability to unite, and clearly Prince understood that.
What is your racial background?
I’m Native American, Chinese and Russian. That’s probably why I can pull off the look of Prince a little bit more than someone who’s got blond hair and blue eyes. He’s very ambiguous looking.
In real life, and in your other performance incarnations, you aren’t a flamboyant guy. How do you prepare to fill Prince’s exquisite shoes?
It’s about bringing the music to life, doing it with all eyes towards his vision, and also just having fun with it — and for me personally bringing out the Prince in myself. Because it’s definitely in there. My dad is an amazing artist, and he always taught me to be humble, to never put myself on a pedestal. That’s good in some ways but limiting in others, and in trying to embody Prince, I have to let all of that go.
