But virally, it did very well, and I think now a lot more people know about it than knew about it before it went on the air. I think there are a couple of natural reasons, one of which was because of that three-network sweep last weekend with the Global Citizen show ("One World: Together at Home"), whatever promotion that I was going to get over the weekend on CBS didn't start until Sunday, and the show was Tuesday. I don't think we got a lot of promotion with this show. EHRLICH: Not that I knew of. We got a lot of promotion with the Beatles show. This happened once before, with the Beatles show ("The Night That Changed America: A Grammy Salute to The Beatles").That was the precedent, where they aired it a second time as well, so they had some numbers to at least reference. If they were, they didn't tell me about it.
Prince was not an easy master. They all did; everybody wanted it. We didn't have any problem with the Time; that was different. And in the course of his career, he fell in love and out of love with a number of different groups, or artists and musicians that worked with him. But it was tricky, because both of them claimed Prince. And that was one of the goals that we had. What I want to say is that the people that made that happen and kept it together were Terry (Lewis) and Jimmy (Jam). And frankly, Sheila wanted that too, and I think Wendy and Lisa did too. So one of the most tricky things to navigate, in all honesty — and I don't think anyone would have a problem with me saying it — was trying to make sure that Sheila and the Revolution got along. They had relationships with both of ‘em and they helped navigate the kind of straits of what probably was a reasonably loose — and you could argue not necessarily the most amazing — “Baby I'm a Star” you've ever seen, but at least it had those folks on stage together. And rightfully so, because they both had long histories with him.
Vincent, Mavis Staples and others… Variety picked his brain about what went into well-received performances by the Foo Fighters, Miguel, Susanna Hoffs and Chris Martin, H.E.R., Gary Clark Jr., St. and his relief at having harmoniously navigated the waters of a show that had so many past Prince proteges and collaborators sharing the stage for the all-star finale of "Baby, I'm a Star."
What were highlights for you of producing the show?
I don't think there could have been a more perfect person. But I don't think I could have done that show without her or someone like her… It had little to do with her name value, though  I don't want to devalue that. First of all, it was a perfect song, and that came from her. Exactly. I mean, that's really why I booked her. She said, “I want to do ‘Controversy,’” and I said, “Thank you for thinking of what I hadn't thought of.”
Somehow you squeezed a four- or five-hour taping into two hours of TV.
There are three or four things that come to mind quickly. I thought that could be the centerpiece that could kick the show off, but you never know until you do it. I didn't call this show “Let's Go Crazy” until I knew what we were going to do with Gary (Clark Jr.) and Gabby (aka H.E.R.). Not that either of those two artists was the best known artist on the show, but it got the audience up and they stayed up on their feet for 90% of the show. It was one of those magical nights where television did not get in the way of what was happening on stage. It lived up to what I had hoped it would be, and then it was obvious.
I didn't make it work too well with Luther Vandross and Anita Baker  — not that we're talking about that. (Ehrlich famously worked to alleviate tension between that duo as they reunited on the 2003 Grammys after a long time apart.) I've done a few of those over my life, where I set out on a course that wasn't the easiest, and I think probably eight out of 10 times I made it work. They hated each other. That was a duet that I wanted to do a long time ago on the Grammys (in 2003), and man, they were going to kill each other. But it kind of took me back to the straits of Simon and Garfunkel… But that's another story!
in a major way. Hardcore Prince fans take a big interest in which of the people he worked with naturally align with others, or don't. A few days before the first airing of this special, we started to see news stories about how Apollonia was taking to social media to tear into Sheila E. Obviously the timing had to do with Sheila having a high profile on this special.
He made it sound like it was an afterthought when he introduced it. Foo Fighters did both "Darling Nikki" and "Pop Life" at the taping, "Nikki" was the one that made the telecast, but Dave Grohl said they hadn't done "Nikki" in concert in a lot of years, even though it's their best known cover.
But EWF is the one heritage act that people don't necessarily associate with Prince. Of course Mavis Staples worked with him later. Earth Wind and Fire was one of two artists on the show that predate Prince. People loved Philip Bailey.
Of course, I'm in love with Misty Copeland. Obviously I had booked her for the Sunday show (the Grammys), and they came to me and said, “You know…” I didn't know that she had toured with him. And that's what we thought about putting her with Gabby, with H.E.R.
These tribute shows are about looking back (with faithful renditions) but also not being afraid to embrace the guy who says, “I'm going to do 'Manic Monday,' but I'm just going to do it with my piano and it's not going to really have tempo.” Every time I work with Chris, it's like, just stay out of his lane and let him (make the decisions). I said to him, "I'd love for you to do the Prince show. He said, “Can I just do it with Susanna?” I said, “Do you want to use Sheila (E. I don't want to say he's one of my rep company, but he's easy to talk to. and her band), too?” He said, “No, just me and her.” It was the opposite of “Darling Nikki.” It was the quietest moment in the show, and one of the sweetest. Do you have any thoughts about what you want to do?" I honestly don't remember if it was him or me, but "Manic Monday" came out of that conversation.
With Morris Day and the Time, an act most people feel they know intimately haven't seen in a while, the audience might feel a little bit nervous about whether those signature moves will look rusty, and then when they make it feel just like the '80s, it's a relief.
"It seemed to strike a chord with people," says executive producer Ken Ehrlich, "and more than one person pointed out how refreshing it was to see a live audience,  as opposed to one more couch-and-guitar number (not that there’s anything wrong with that). It did well for the network, which always helps." The show was filmed before the coronavirus pandemic shut-downs, of course, a couple of nights after the Grammys (which Ehrlich also executive-produced — this year, celebrating his 40th anniversary doing that). Reaction to the first broadcast was wildly enthusiastic among most viewers.
Who else stood out to you as you worked with different artists?
I keep forgetting because physically he wasn't there on Tuesday (his medley on "Let's Go Crazy" is carried over from the Grammy telecast), but God, I've always thought that he was probably one of the really great performers of this generation. And Usher was great.
And I said, “I want to do both of those numbers tonight. If there was a meter in my brain about what the high point of the show is, dynamically and excitement-wise, that's it. That comes a little over an hour in, if I recall, just after the mid-point of the show. During the rehearsal, I think I said to Dave, “You know what? I probably planned that purposefully, because you try and do something exciting after you cross the hour. It peaked there. I'm not going to tell you that both of ‘em are going to wind up in the show, because they probably won't. And I knew that if they tore into “Darling Nikki,” they were going to kill that. I think the first time I talked to him, we talked about “Darling Nikki,” and then he moved to “Pop Life.” I'm not even sure why. He didn't need any help from me. Just run ‘Darling Nikki’ once, just for me.” And he laughed and turned around to Taylor (Hawkins) and it was like, “Ah, f—, let’s humor him." And as soon as we ran it once, he got it. I liked their “Pop Life” a lot. But we all know what the Foo Fighters are and what they could do. But I'd love to be able to make a choice." "Pop Life” now is up on CBS All Access and grammy.com.
Was Mavis Staples an automatic for that? You need some gravity for "Purple Rain" if you're going to have that as a penultimate number.
Chris Martin and Susanna Hoffs together acoustically was another highlight for a lot of people.
That was one of the few moments without a band. Was it easy balancing the interests of different people who were part of the Prince inner circle? Sheila E.'s big band did the first three quarters of the show, and then the Revolution took their place as the band for the last stretch.
And honestly, I think all of the acts on that show were helped by the adoration of the audience. The crowd spurred them on and in turn they fed it back. It's like you push the button, and they go automatic. So to see the two of them up there, doing the steps and having big grins on their faces, it was like, this is what they were meant to do. I've known Jimmy for a long time, but I don't really know him as an artist, as a performer; I know him as a producer. And I loved seeing Jimmy (Jam) and Terry (Lewis) there, because they were into it. With an act like that, and I’ve seen it happen over the years with a number of acts.
VARIETY: Was CBS keeping a slot in reserve for a repeat Saturday night, and waiting to see if it did well Tuesday?
He loves what he does. You can see the joy about doing these things. He's one of my go-to guys. God, I love working with people like that, I really do. He’s another one I love working with. You learn after a number of years who you can talk to, and the manager or publicist will get out of the way and just say, “Okay, you and the artist need to talk.” “Okay, that's what I want to do. Thank you for suggesting what I wanted to do.” And of course, I had him on the Sunday (Grammys) show and he was great there because we did “I Sing the Body Electric" (from "Fame") which was written at least in the late ‘70s, I think probably before Sugar Hill, so there was no hip-hop in “Fame.” It's the one change I made in that number to try and contemporize it a little bit, and he got it right away and showed up with the rap written and ready to go. That was the one we thought we could versify a little bit.
But I don't even think I saw any of the Apollonia stuff until either a day or two before the show. I was wrong about Ariana Grande last year. For probably the people that were with him at one point in his life, it's very easy to say, "Well, those were his great years; after that, he was nothing.” Or people who came later said, “God, he got better, and oh, that early stuff was s—!” Not too many said that, come to think of it. And then I thought, “Oh, God.” I've gotten reasonably good at looking at (controversies flaring up) and trying to discern whether or not things are going to blow up or whether they're just gonna sit there and die. not divisive — that's not the word I want to use — but yeah, he had different camps, like any artist, but especially an artist like him who evolved over a number of years. Prince was… [Laughs.] But this turned out to be a blip.
But there's a singularly vivid quality about her, and a weird one, to put it simply, that really fits in with the Prince ethos in a way that was different from anyone else on the show. St. Vincent is a big enough star, but maybe a little less familiar to much of the audience than an Usher or Foo Fighters.
She was saving it. And then, on show night, she got stronger as it went along. She was an automatic, but it was scary, because in rehearsal, she was good but I think she was just starting to feel it. And that's what a great artist who knows herself can do, and she did that and she delivered.” /> I knew it was the right booking, but I think I crossed my fingers a little bit. What I didn't see that she knew about herself was that she was getting herself up to it — that she didn't want to give it all away in the first verse-chorus. In rehearsal she was good, but I think she was just feeling it.
I could talk nicely about pretty much everyone on the show. And he probably channeled Prince, in terms of being true to Prince, as well as anybody on that show. Man, he worked on that number. When I saw him at rehearsal, I thought he was incredible, and I wound up moving him up in the show; I think I originally had him later. Miguel — I don't want to say he surprised me, because I've had him on a few shows, but every time I do… He's a great mimic, and there's something to be said for that.
Common added a rap to "Sign of the Times," which is a risky thing to do, but obviously he's pulled off that kind of thing before.
It was natural and beautiful and fit in so well. When I went online and looked at some things, there were some people that thought that was the best number in the show. I don't even think you'd call “Adore” a deep cut, but it's deeper, and I didn't have anything like it on the show. I think Chantel (Sausedo) maybe thought of that booking. Yeah, and he loved them.
Those are the choices when you get into an edit room with a show like this. I trimmed a few of the packages and got about seven or eight minutes out that way, and then the rest of it really came tightening some of the songs, which I never like doing, but it's preferable (to cutting entire songs). I gave several, if not all, of the artists a haircut, but I didn't scalp ‘em. The only two things that didn’t wind up on the show were “Pop Life” and “Mountains,” which the Revolution did, and I just couldn't find a place for it. “Mountains,” by the way, also is on CBS All Access (and Grammy.com). But everything else, it was like a verse-chorus here or there. The easy way out is to say, “Well, that one wasn't that great,” but this one, there was no doubt that I wanted to try and keep almost everything. By the way, normally, what’ll happen is,  I'll get some kick from some artists saying, “You can't do that to my song.” And on this one, I don't think anybody came after me. I think they understood. Prince wasn't that efficient sometimes with songs, so I could take a a 16-bar intro and trim it down to 8, and nobody got hurt, even if they got bruised.
A re-broadcast of "Let's Go Crazy: The Grammy Salute to Prince" was hastily scheduled for Saturday after the original airing of the special Tuesday won the ratings race for the night, to the surprise of many. "What time is it?" is a question Prince fans have been asking one another, and not just because they've got Morris Day on their minds. ET/PT, 7 central.) (The answer to that musical question, by the way, for anyone who may be reading this before the rerun, is 8 p.m.

You might say that they had the last laugh. They still rule the stadium (they're a bigger band than they were in 2005), and in the post-Lady Gaga world, the music critics of The New York Times, who may once have been guilty of "rockism," now twist themselves into pretzels to praise the latest pop. They’re too busy doing all they can to melt you.” /> In "A Head Full of Dreams," we see the band, at the time, doing their best to laugh this off, but it’s clear they were wounded. Yet the case against Coldplay was right about one thing: Coldplay, though they have a sexy rock god of a lead singer, will never be cool.
"A Head Full of Dreams" interpolates pre-fame, on-the-road, and in-the-studio clips of Coldplay, most of them in black-and-white, going back to the days when Chris Martin was a scrawny, spotty 19-year-old college kid in braces — though as you can see, he had dreams of filling stadiums (always voiced with a crafty touch of tongue-in-cheekiness) even then. The film takes its title from Coldplay’s most recent album, released at the end of 2015, but it’s not one of those lazy fly-on-the-wall promotional docs where we mostly see the band sitting around the studio creating that one record. The director, Mat Whitecross, has been a friend and associate of Coldplay’s since the group was formed, in 1996, and he’s been filming them ever since. "Coldplay: A Head Full of Dreams," which played one night in theaters in 70 nations, where it grossed $3.5 million, and is now available on Amazon Prime, walks the line between those two possibilities.
But Chris Martin completely dominates Coldplay; there's no yin to his smiley enraptured yang. It’s no accident that so many fabled rock ensembles have had two contrasting leaders (Lennon and McCartney, Jagger and Richards, Plant and Page, Bono and The Edge) to play off each other and cross-pollinate and, at times, butt heads. He’s the rock-king superstar the other band members all worship, humbly, as the genius who made their fates possible, and almost every moment of the band’s creative energy is organized around what Chris is going to do next: the piano chords he’s playing around with, the lyrics he’s writing, his endless studio perfectionism. The film’s upbeat samey-same tone traces back to Chris Martin’s singular place in the band.
It’s now rare to see a concert film or a backstage pop portrait that attains the status of an event, like "Woodstock" or "Stop Making Sense" or "Truth or Dare." But the form has never gone away. In that light, the relevant question for any rock doc is whether it’s a compelling slice of artistry or a glorified piece of marketing. In a sense, it’s now everywhere: on streaming services and music channels, folded into album packages, a perpetual deluge of performance and home-movie snapshot geared to the insatiability of fans. The golden age of the rock documentary faded out a long time ago.
By the time their chief role models, U2 and R.E.M., had been around for a couple of decades, they were battle-scarred, and each band had reinvented itself a few times, but the closest Coldplay comes to that in "A Head Full of Dreams" is going through a vague "dark period" after Phil Harvey, the band’s creative director and unofficial fifth member, cuts out. Even so, there’s no denying that Coldplay, as a band, has had a remarkably happy and seamless existence. They recover by recruiting the legendary Brian Eno to produce their fourth album, "Viva la Vida" (2008), the title track of which is probably, along with "Fix You," their greatest song. It’s there in the steadiness of their 20-year rise, and in the delectable ice-cream smoothness of their hooks and harmonies — the way they achieve an epic caress of emotion. Of course, "A Head Full of Dreams" has been constructed to leave out the discord (at one point Martin turns to Whitecross’s camera and says, "You don’t film any of the arguments").
In just over 90 minutes, "A Head Full of Dreams" delivers a kaleidoscopic version of the Coldplay story and the Coldplay experience. All of that is interspersed with relatively brief scenes of the band performing in front of massive adoring crowds in stadiums from São Paulo to Los Angeles. The shows are surging explosions of light and color, the stage bathed in flower petals, with Martin, his T-shirt flying up over his torso, leaping and dashing down the runway-into-the-crowd like the Pied Piper of Love crossed with Bono crossed with Springsteen (whom he resembles when he smiles).
But what it came down to is that the rock-critic establishment was increasingly possessed by the distinction between what was cool and what was not, and Coldplay, with their heart-on-the-sleeve operatic earnestness, was now seen as the quintessence of uncool. The one other dicey moment, apart from Chris Martin’s divorce, comes when the rock press turns on Coldplay — not for the usual reasons (because the band has hit a bad patch) but for their success. The hipster grumbling had been out there for a while, then came to a head in a 2005 New York Times analysis entitled "The Case Against Coldplay," in which the critic Jon Pareles slammed them as "the most insufferable band of the decade." It was a startling thing to read, given that Pareles isn’t exactly a writer given to throwing the tomahawk.
At times he’s quite witty. It’s all part of Martin’s flower-child vision — that the group is spreading love, with their music and even among the band of brothers they’ve become. Martin is fond of aphorisms like "Music is just everywhere. The whole universe is music" and "It was a challenging period. It’s the sort of situation you might imagine would breed resentment, but part of the Coldplay mystique is the relative low wattage of ego clash. It was a sort of journey from ultimate loneliness to ultimate togetherness." You get the feeling he’s actually a spiky, funny guy, but he knows how to be a walking publicist for good vibes. During the video shoot for "The Scientist," in 2002, Martin looks at the camera and says, "Four chords and now all this." Given the rather elemental nature of their songs, those words more or less summarize Coldplay’s entire career.
We never really sink into the process of seeing the group's members — lead guitarist Jonny Buckland, drummer Will Champion, bassist Guy Berryman, and Martin — create one of their hits. Which may be the point. And the live snippets are truncated enough that there isn’t a single big transcendent concert number where the movie simply sits back and lets us revel in the majesty of Coldplay going into one of their slow-build trance-out anthems. "A Head Full of Dreams" tells you a lot about Coldplay, yet it plays as an elongated teaser. Yet even if you're a fan of the band (which I am), the movie may leave you wanting. It’s such a meticulously controlled "celebration" that there are few ups and downs to it; it all comes at you on the same unvarying level.