Alright, buckle up. We’re diving into Purple Rain Sex Shooter, the 1984 Italian release by Prince And The Revolution with Apollonia 6. This ain’t no ordinary album—it’s a genre-bending beast that slaps harder than most things outta the '80s. Funk, soul, rock, pop? Yeah, it’s got all that, but don’t think for a second this is some watered-down crossover cash grab. Nah, this thing reeks of raw talent and Minneapolis Sound swagger.
First off, let’s talk about “Purple Rain.” If you haven’t heard this track yet, what are you even doing with your life? It’s not just a song—it’s an experience. The way Prince lets loose on guitar like he’s channeling every emotion he ever felt makes me wanna scream, cry, or maybe punch something (in a good way). That solo? Man, it rips through you like a knife. You can tell this dude wasn’t just making music; he was bleeding art. I remember hearing it late at night once, windows down, cigarette dangling from my lips, feeling immortal. That’s what great songs do—they hijack your soul.
Then there’s “Sex Shooter,” which is… well, exactly what it sounds like. It’s sleazy, unapologetic, and dripping with attitude. Apollonia 6 kills it here, bringing a vibe so seductive it almost feels illegal. But don’t get it twisted—this isn’t soft-core nonsense. The bassline hits hard enough to rattle your bones, and the synths? Pure neon-lit fire. Every time I hear this one, I picture leather jackets, smoky clubs, and people dancing like they’ve got nothing left to lose. It’s dirty, dangerous, and damn near perfect.
What makes this album stand out—even today—is how bold it feels. Most artists back then were too scared to mix styles like this. Not Prince. He didn’t give a crap about rules. He just made what he wanted, and somehow it worked. Warner Bros. must’ve been sweating bullets when they saw this thing coming together, but hey, they struck gold.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to Purple Rain Sex Shooter now feels kinda bittersweet. How many artists these days could pull off something this wild without overthinking it to death? Not many. Maybe none. So yeah, crank this sucker loud, let it mess you up a little, and remind yourself why music used to mean something before algorithms took over. Oh, and if anyone asks why you're blasting "Sex Shooter" at 3 AM, just say it's research. Trust me, they'll buy it.
