[2] Prince & The Revolution, ‘Kiss’

“Kiss?” said Junior. “Like kissing? Like this?”

She went to kiss her own school portrait before me, but no surprise there – her bloodline breeds narcissists. Anyway, then there was some preposterous dancing. That’s hereditary too.

I think we’ve talked about ‘Kiss’ here before, about how the Purple Priapus could be impish and cheeky while being filthy as hell; how the arrangement could echo with space while being full to bursting with funky flourishes, impossible groove and eternal sunshine; how Tom Jones is an orange car alarm. ‘Kiss’ just sounds so easy.

Act your age, not your shoe size:

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