Although it’s probably not hyped on the press release — assuming the Rick James street team could stop speedballing long enough to send one — this tour is designed to take advantage of the headliner’s status as a national punch line. For all his funk skills, James is more famous these days for his mistakes: coke sniffing, ho slapping, shouting Dave Chapelle’s “I’m Rick James, bitch!” while accepting the ASCAP Heritage Award last week and generally being the godfather of prickdom and expecting to get paid for it. Morris Day and the Time, meanwhile, merely play the prick, preening but putting their weight — Jellybean’s, especially — into the jams, the shtick, the clothes and that Minneapolis sound that’s aged better than Purple Rain itself. Grooving to this, you’ll almost forgive yourself for supporting that Rick James fucker. And Teena Marie? We got no problem with Teena Marie.