15 Prince songs made famous by other artists

This is a rare example of a great artist writing a perfect song that he could never quite master. Sinead O’Connor was born to sing “Nothing Compares 2 U,” and her rendition will forever be definitive — much like Aretha Franklin’s take on Otis Redding’s “Respect.” Prince released a version on “The Hits/The B Sides” with Rosie Gaines taking up the vocals, but it sounded all wrong. O’Connor drilled into the center of that song and struck a mother lode of anguish.

Have you ever gone to a house party? Have you ever seen what “Jungle Love” does to a house party? Prince used The Time as a jam band throughout the mid-1980s, and they never failed to find the fun in his music. Backed up by Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis (who would go on to produce Janet Jackson’s best work), and fronted by the deliciously narcissistic Morris Day, they were a garish outgrowth of Prince’s worst womanizing tendencies.

The funk goddess has often found herself in Prince’s orbit, but he did her an amazing solid by handing over this single from his self-titled second LP. Khan settles into the song, which kicks off with a rapper praising her sexual prowess, and takes it places Prince never imagined. The music video is a pop-cultural touchstone due to its inclusion of renowned breakdancers Shabba Doo and Turbo.

Why in the world did Prince sacrifice one of his catchiest songs to a struggling girl group? Could it be that he was enamored of frontwoman Susanna Hoffs? Could it be that there was a straight male alive in the late 1980s who wasn’t enamored of Susanna Hoffs? Lyrically, this is a throwaway song, and even at his flightiest, you couldn’t imagine Prince recording it. But The Bangles invest the workaday lament with real longing, and their career blasted into the stratosphere as a result.

One of Prince’s first side projects produced this crazy little song that found its way into “Beverly Hills Cop.” The song lives down to its title, but it’s performed with such verve that only a preacher would complain. It’s impossible to hear the song and not think about Axel Foley goading Taggart and Rosewood into taking down a couple of heavily armed criminals in a strip club.

Prince’s party band had another huge hit with this song based on a dance move — one that no one has ever pulled off without looking like the biggest fool who ever existed. Performed in “Purple Rain,” it’s a gloriously stupid number that’s sold by Morris Day and his goofball partner-in-crime, Jerome Benton. It’s easy to imagine Prince giggling himself silly as he laid down the bars for this one.

The Fleetwood Mac superstar had just recorded her soon-to-be solo hit when she realized her chord progression was alarmingly similar to “Little Red Corvette.” The song needed tweaking, so she put in a call to the Purple One, who promptly showed up at her studio and rearranged the track in under an hour. Nicks praises Prince’s facility in fixing her song. It was an accidental collaboration, and you can’t help but with those two talents would’ve hooked up again.

There is nothing on this earth more joyful than watching Sheila E. destroy the drums in Prince’s concert film of “Sign ‘o’ the Times.” Nothing. But she had a pretty successful recording career outside of that (notwithstanding her stint as the bandleader of “The Magic Hour”), and her biggest hit was supplied by Prince. As an amazingly skilled drummer, it’s impossible to imagine the song performed any other way; she took on the track and blasted it full of life.

Prince stealthily wrote a New Jack Swing song for Patti LaBelle in 1989, and it was one of her biggest hits in years. It’s an odd fit for a number of reasons: Prince had yet to make peace with New Jack Swing (or hip-hop in general), and Labelle, a recording industry veteran, was best known for her classic R&B sound. Both artists were expanding their boundaries; LaBelle has never sounded better, and that’s saying something.

Martika was something of a musical prodigy herself. She had a supporting role in the 1982 big-screen rendition of “Annie,” joined the cast of “Kids Incorporated” and was recording hit singles before the age of 19. She had hit No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100 with “Toy Soldiers” when Prince collaborated with her on “Love… Thy Will Be Done.” Martika had already written the lyrics when Prince got involved, but the minimalist production and steady, mid-tempo rhythm closely resembles “If I Was Your Girlfriend” from “Sign o’ the Times.”

This was already a deeply silly song when it turned up in “Purple Rain” (in the film, it’s supposed to be a Morris Day composition), but everything Prince touched during that era became a hit. It reached the R&B top 10 and seemed to establish the Apollonia 6 as another Minneapolis-based music powerhouse. Alas, the group broke up after its first album (largely due to Prince’s disinterest), and songs intended for the girl group were passed along to The Bangles and Sheila E.

Arguably, the biggest hit off “Graffiti Bridge” didn’t even belong to Prince. This song showcased the precocious talents of 13-year-old Tevin Campbell, who immediately became a huge R&B star thanks primarily to Prince’s efforts. It’s a classic bit of New Jack Swing (Prince eventually got comfortable with the genre), perfectly tailored to the young, innocent sensibilities of Campbell.

“Come spend the night inside my sugar walls.” Sometimes, Prince didn’t work very hard to disguise the filthiness of his lyrics, and this collaboration with Sheena Easton is about as off-the-charts nasty as “Darling Nikki.” The song was a huge hit in dance clubs, but it displeased Tipper Gore and her Parents Music Resource Center, which placed the track on its infamous “Filthy 15.” It’s a point of pride for Prince fans that he wrote three of the songs on the list of objectionable songs.

One of Prince’s most beloved B-sides became a minor hit for R&B star Alicia Keys in 2001, and the two became great friends as a result. The ballad has been covered by a number of artists (including Stephanie Mills and jazz saxophonist Joshua Redman), but Keys’ version invests it with the depth and experience of someone who knows all too well the pain of a bad breakup.

Aside from funk god George Clinton, Prince didn’t have a more likely collaborator than Madonna. The two embraced and exploited their sensuality. They weren’t afraid to test society’s tolerance for sexually adventurous art; they were simply being true to themselves. And yet, despite being friends, they only hooked up on “Like a Prayer” for “Love Song,” which is one of the more forgettable tracks on the LP. Prince did some uncredited work on the album (he plays guitar on the title track), but this was essentially the extent of their creative union.