In 1995, Mariah Carey stood at the absolute peak of pop superstardom. Daydream was dominating charts, “One Sweet Day” was rewriting record books, and her image was carefully curated as pristine, emotional, and universally palatable. But behind the scenes, Carey was suffocating. In 2026, she has finally pulled back the curtain on the secret project that kept her sane during that era—and the one mentor who gave her permission to rebel: Prince.
While the public saw studio perfection by day, Mariah was quietly sneaking out at night to record an entirely different album. Under the alias Chick, she poured her frustration into distorted guitars, snarling vocals, and raw, confessional lyrics. The project became Someone’s Ugly Daughter, a grunge-leaning, alt-rock record that stood in total defiance of the “Songbird Supreme” brand her label demanded she protect.
What fans didn’t know until now is how deeply Prince shaped that rebellion.
According to Carey’s 2026 reflections, Prince became her late-night lifeline during one of the most creatively restrictive periods of her career. She recalls calling him during what she calls “the 3 a.m. hours”—moments when exhaustion, anger, and doubt collided. Rather than advising restraint, Prince encouraged the opposite.
“He was the first person who told me my voice was a weapon,” Carey shared. “He said, ‘They want you contained. If you have to scream to get out, scream.’”
Prince’s influence went far beyond sound. Having famously battled his own label, even writing “SLAVE” on his face in protest, he understood exactly what Carey was facing. He warned her about executives who would smile while quietly boxing her in, and he taught her how to survive them. His advice was blunt and transformative: don’t surrender your identity, protect your work, and always keep something that belongs only to you.
When executives attempted to bury Someone’s Ugly Daughter, fearing it would fracture Carey’s image, Prince urged her to hold onto the tapes. He predicted a future where she would have the power to release the music on her own terms. Thirty years later, that prediction has come true.
The 2026 release of Someone’s Ugly Daughter finally presents the album as it was meant to be heard—with Mariah’s original lead vocals intact. Critics have already described the project as a startlingly raw 90s artifact, closer to Hole or Garbage than traditional pop or R&B. It reveals not a departure from Carey’s artistry, but a hidden dimension of it.
More than a lost album, the release is a tribute. By sharing this chapter now, Mariah Carey honors the lesson Prince gave her in the quiet hours: true legends don’t ask permission to evolve. In 2026, she isn’t just reclaiming a record—she’s reclaiming the right to be uncontained, exactly as the Purple One taught her to be.