Prince hung around the Bay Area for about a week recently, mounting solo shows at the Paramount and Oracle Arena in Oakland, catching a Warriors game in the meantime and capping it all off with an afterparty at Great American Music Hall on Friday. I had the good fortune of attending the early show at the Paramount on Sunday, Feb. 28, just hours after Prince et al presumably attended the funeral of Denise Matthews a.k.a. Vanity, who passed away on February 15.

Of all of Prince’s songs, there is one that never fails to bring tears to my eyes. When he played it at the Paramount, I gave in to the inevitable and spent the rest of the hour surreptitiously dabbing at my face so as not to alarm my friends and seatmates. And then, of course, I spent the week after that with the tune still ringing in my ears. If you've seen me with red eyes over the last several days, it was due to, err, allergies. Or so I told people.
“Take Me With U” isn't even one of Prince's best songs. In fact, it's not even one of my top ten favorite Prince songs, but as the Purple One himself has been known to say in concert, “I have so many hits!” that it's an unfair yardstick. But though “Take Me With U” is firmly ensconced in the second tier of Prince favorites, it is still be an indelible earworm.

Apollonia provides harmonies in what is billed as a duet. In fact, the song was originally intended for her debut, Apollonia 6, but it was added to the Purple Rain soundtrack at the last minute. It's a little sappy, down to the violins sawing away in the background, but that's entirely appropriate for the sentiment. “Take Me With U” captures that splendid moment early on in new relationships when you're so infatuated with your new special someone that absolutely anything you do together is golden. Eat breakfast, read together in the same room, shop for groceries. It's all good.

I still have vivid memories of the day more than a decade ago that I spent with my now-fiance watching him wash his car. That was it. I wasn't hoping for a sexy car wash show; there was no erotic charge in the air, at least not at that particular moment. I just sat on the stoop and watched him scrub his Honda down. I'm sure I offered to help at some point, but I can't remember if my offer was accepted or not. What I remember instead is the sunlight, the sight of him working, and that strange feeling inside me of pure contentment.

Part of the reason I like this song enough to inspire happy tears is because of its vulnerability. It's playful, sure, and it doesn't take itself too seriously (Prince: “you're sheer perfection.” Apollonia: “Thank you.”). But it's expressing the tender emotions that just-bloomed love can inspire, without minimizing or making fun of them. It lets the strings swell, the drums pound, and the synthesizers tinkle like soft spring rain.

In fact, this vulnerability is one reason why I have always had a soft spot for Prince. Of course, he can be boastful, self-assured, and dangerously charming. But his songs are also willing to display self-doubt and a lack of confidence, not to mention heavier stuff like regret and grief. “Little Red Corvette” may be the most famous example of the self-doubting Prince, a young man nervous about a tryst with a much more experienced woman. Prince sang that one at the Paramount, too, intercut with “Dirty Mind,” both clearly call-outs to the memory of Denise Matthews. Now that’s the kind of vulnerability you don't often see, much less share with an audience of thousands.