Purple Rain was also exquisite in that it was a slow song. At school dances, slow songs, good ones meant that you would perhaps have some face to face time with a young lady. If you haven’t slow danced and kissed someone to the power and glory that is Purple Rain you missed the whole point of life.
These days, now that I am an old family man, I just reenact the dance of consciousness through the magic of air guitar. Whenever this song comes on, I run outside naked through the wild frenzy that is nature. I gather the savage lush whisper of the trees into my lungs and sprint back inside and jump onto the table just in time for the solo. Then I gyrate an air guitar solo that would make a dead porn star blush. I fucking kill it! Sure everyone points and laughs, and sure sometimes I’m tasered and arrested if we are out at a supper club… but perhaps someday everyone will realize that this song changes your brain waves into theta, thus allowing one to relax into the core of your being. And after being loosed of the horror of separateness in the sea of sorrow, it can feel mighty nice. I for one like to thank consciousness for the magic of existence through interpretive dance and volcanic glory. Its the least I can do.