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For someone who worshipped at the altar of pussy for nearly his entire career, the presto-change-o conversion of Prince into being a Jehovah’s Witness in 2001 was one heck of a shock. This wasn’t for show either; he was all in, and would go door to door in his native Minneapolis to proselytise about his newfound faith.

If you look into the background of the man born Prince Rogers Nelson (yes, Prince is his birth name), you’ll find someone who had secretly always struggled with the concept of faith. He was born into a household that was chaotic at the best of times, but they did have faith. The issue was that they were Seventh-day Adventists. Another socially conservative Christian sect that probably had very strong feelings about the kind of lifestyle Prince was leading in his early adulthood.

Many believe Prince was a believer in some form in his prime years. He didn’t define himself as anything other than “spiritual,” and never went as far as saying Christian. However, this is a man whose magnum opus, Purple Rain, begins with an extended segment of Pentecostal-style preaching about “the after-world”. For all that The Purple One’s work was focused on getting laid and all the trappings surrounding it, God was never far away from his work.

Naturally, when he started hearing a voice in his head reciting Bible verses from a hotel room in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, one can only imagine what went through his head first.

It’s worth mentioning that this is a second-hand story. One told by Prince’s tour manager to David Alan Grier, who then told Howard Stern about it on his radio show. Grier was called up to Minneapolis to perform at Prince’s club; however, his ‘Royal Badness’ was unavailable when Grier showed up. The In Living Colour genius was disappointed at not meeting Prince, so in return, Prince’s tour manager gave him an access-all-areas tour around Paisley Park, where he told him this cracking story.

As Prince’s tour manager, one thing he was used to was his client phoning him at 3am. Normally, it was to organise a rehearsal that needed to happen in two hours sharp. What he wasn’t prepared for was his boss telling him, in no uncertain terms, that “there are motherfuckin’ voices comin’ from the motherfuckin’ walls”. Thinking that his prize client had finally cracked, his tour manager raced up to Prince’s suite to find that, holy shit, there are motherfuckin’ voices comin’ from the motherfuckin’ walls.

The hotel security is called, along with the police. The entire floor that Prince was staying on was cleared out to find the source of this truly disturbing happening. Until finally, the crawlspace was searched, and a young woman was found, right behind Prince’s bed, with a flashlight and a Bible, reading verses aloud to try and convert Prince.

Grier finishes up with a spectacular grace note. As the woman was dragged from his hotel room, kicking and screaming about Prince’s soul, Prince just sits at the table in his hotel room. Legs crossed. Dressed head to toe in his traditional bedclothes of white satin, down the high-heeled boots on his feet. All he had to say was, “I told y’all motherfuckers. There were mothefuckin’ voices, comin’ from the motherfuckin’ walls.”

The irony of it is that he probably had a similar experience when he fully converted, but this time, there were no women in the walls. Just a voice in his head and a feeling he ought to change his ways. At least until 2010 or so, when he stopped being quite as rigid about it as the dogma says he should.