L.A.W & The Planet 12 at The Cutting Room
I arrived on East 32nd Street just as night fell, and immediately sensed the excitement. A line of Prince fans – some draped in PRINCE paraphernalia– snaked down the block. Inside the Cutting Room (a midtown club known for intimate tribute nights), the stage was set by 9 pm. When the lights dimmed, Lawrence “L.A.W” Worrell charged onstage with his band – The Planet 12 Movement – A press announcement had described him as taking the stage with his “incredible band”, and the four-piece lineup (bass, drums, keyboards, and L.A.W on guitar/vocals) delivered on that promise.
The music hit hard from the first chord. L.A.W opened with a propulsive funk riff that immediately had people moving. He has a presence equal parts soul preacher and rock frontman – one moment he’s crooning with a velvet tone. I could tell he wasn’t there to do a note-for-note Prince. Instead, he treated Prince’s songs like blueprints: he faithfully followed their outlines but punched out the windows and added new extensions. The cutting-room crowd responded wildly: cheers erupted whenever he took a song in an unexpected direction, just as often as when he nailed a chorus everyone loved. In short, it felt less like a reverent museum exhibit and more like a Hendrix-level live jam inspired by Prince.
Prince’s Legacy and April 21 Significance
By design, the concert fell on the eve of April 21 – a date etched into the hearts of Prince fans. April 21, 2016 was the night the music world lost Prince Rogers Nelson. Since then, that date has become a secular holy day among his followers. A Reuters report on a 5th-anniversary gathering at Paisley Park described fans draped in purple “waiting to enter the museum to remember the musician”. One attendee even said Prince fans had “been fans forever… we’re family” through his music. Another Reuters note (also April 21, 2021) simply states: “Prince died April 21, 2016… His former home and studio… is now a museum”, underscoring why that date is marked by pilgrimage.
In Minneapolis and Chanhassen (where Paisley Park is located), April 21 is marked by open-air ceremonies, fan art, and candle-light vigils. The Paisley Park events page for 2026 confirms the schedule: all-day public tours, an origami-dove memorial wall, and at exactly 4:21 PM a moment of silence and candle lighting. Even in New York, the weekend bristled with purple pride – threads online showed people planning block parties and listening sessions. In that context, the Cutting Room show was far more than a club gig: it was part of a global tapestry of remembrance. As a CBS News piece noted when April 21 first arrived in 2017, “the meaning of April 21 is forever changed” for fans, who now often find solace in Prince’s music on that day.
Surprise Guests: Denise Wilkinson & BowLegged Lou
About into the final leg of the show, as she made herself visible in the corner – Denise L. Wilkinson. When L.A.W motioned her onstage, the crowd whooped. Wilkinson, one of the original Dunning sisters from New York’s Skyy, tore into “Call Me”. Her voice still soared. The audience instinctively knew every line of that 1981 hit (Skyy’s only Billboard Hot 100 top-40 single), and soon everyone was dancing. It was a joyous detour – a classic female-fronted funk jam in the midst of a Prince tribute. While the Cutting Room’s promo materials never mentioned Wilkinson, her appearance felt wholly earned. It connected the present party to New York’s own dance-funk lineage thanks to L.A.W.
Shortly after Denise left the stage, another figure appeared: BowLegged Lou. Lou (aka Lucien George Jr.) was introduced by L.A.W with obvious respect. Lou is best known as one of the voices of Full Force – the mid-’80s R&B/hip-hop group that wrote hits for dozens of artists. (He’s actually credited by name on songs like Full Force’s own “Girl,” which Prince later recorded.) In practice, Lou’s role that night was humble: The crowd erupted. These surprises weren’t fluff; they were heartfelt bridges between generations of funk.
I spent the night watching the crowd as much as the stage. Every time L.A.W played a familiar Prince refrain, pairs and groups swayed together; this felt like a private celebration of a hero, not a sombre memorial. After the show, I spoke with young and old alike. A 22-year-old in a “1999” T‑shirt said this was his first time hearing the song live – and that it exceeded expectations. An older couple, both in their 60s, said they grew up on PRINCE and treated the night as a mini-reunion. Even staff at the bar told me guests lingered at their tables afterwards, visibly reeling from the experience, not wanting the party to end.
This euphoria mirrored what’s been seen elsewhere on April 21 anniversaries. As Reuters reported in 2021, fans lining up at Paisley Park on that date call each other “family,” and they describe Prince as an “amazing musician” whose music made them feel like family. Another observer quoted by CBS said fans now turn to Prince’s music for comfort on April 21. Here in New York, I felt that same community vibe in the crowd. We were all there for the same reason: to honor a legacy and share in the joy of it. For New York’s small but devoted Prince fandom, that meant something. In a city where countless concerts happen, this one resonated deeply — a reminder that Prince’s influence still ripples through every corner of the music world, even a decade on.