Content note:I’m gonna talk about some forms of consensual non-consent in this post, primarily cock-milking/”forced orgasm” play. We’ll also touch on animal sexuality in the context of farming/husbandry.
Sometimes it takes me a long time to accept that I’m into a particular kink simply because I don’t like the name of that kink – or at least, the generally-agreed-upon name that it goes by in kink communities, fetish porn, etc.
I’m sure I would have embraced my fondness for “throatpies” much sooner, for instance, if they weren’t called, well, “throatpies.” (That’s the term for someone ejaculating while being deepthroated, FYI. It has nothing to do with pies!)
Likewise, there’s something about “cock-milking” that just doesn’t do it for me. I tend to shy away from anything livestock-adjacent in my sexual language – I’m fuckable, not breedable, thank you very much! – and the idea of someone being “milked” for their semen just makes me think about husbandry tanks and factory farming… although of course, there are many people for whom the dehumanizing livestock angle is the turn-on, and I love that for them. We should all be so lucky as to find sexual language that makes us feel “as happy as a pig in shit,” to invoke another farm-based metaphor 😂
It’s a pity that I don’t particularly connect with “cock-milking” as a phrase, because I sure do enjoy it as a kink. I love dicks, cum, and witnessing/giving intense pleasure, and I love the power exchange involved in “forced orgasm” play, so it makes sense that I’d also be into the type of cock-milking you can do with a mechanical wonder like the Seekheart Raiden. I haven’t gotten to try this particular one, alas, but its gun-like aesthetic is fascinating, and reminds me of the power tools used by farmers to extract semen from actual livestock. (Best of luck to anyone who I’ve just sent down that particular Wikipedia rabbit hole… or artificial bovine vagina, as the case may be…)
Indeed, I think something like “semen extraction” is my own preferred terminology for this kink. I adore medical play, but mostly the kind where the patients are treated like humans, not animals – although frankly, given how dehumanizing and even abusive the real-life medical system can be, sometimes this feels like a distinction without a difference!
As is probably common, my cum-harvesting fantasies usually conveniently omit the reason that the cum is being harvested at all… Maybe your genetics are being researched by an evil scientist, or you’re being baby-trapped by an alien trying to propagate a new planet; who the fuck knows. The point is, someone wants your cum and they want it bad – and they therefore want your orgasm bad, and will move heaven and earth to make it happen.
Writing that out and reading it back, I have to wonder if my interest in these fantasies stems at least partially from my own experiences of bad sex, of sex where my orgasm didn’t matter to the other person. Wouldn’t it be the ultimate antidote to that type of sex if someone not only wanted you to come, but literally needed you to? And if you don’t, then their career, Nobel Prize, or entire species could be on the line?
But that can’t fully explain my proclivity for this kink, because usually I identify moreso with the scientist or bratty evil genius doing the cum extraction. That, too, probably serves a psychological function: in stark contrast to all the times I’ve felt unattractive and unable to capture a crush’s sexual attention, in these fantasies my “victim” is so turned on by me and my ministrations that they literally cannot escape their own arousal, pleasure, and orgasm. Validation ahoy!
Is it fun to psychoanalyze yourself through your fantasies like this? Yes! Is it illuminating? Sometimes! I think one other benefit I glean from it, though, is that it helps me feel more connected to other perverts throughout time and space. Whether or not we agree on which terminology is hottest, and whether or not we practice our kinks in the same ways, we all have our own motivations for doing what we do – and these motivations are usually more similar than they are different. We all want to be loved, accepted, and valued, for instance – and it’s fascinating to observe all the zillions of different ways that manifests in fantasy, whether yours involves vanilla missionary lovemaking in a Paris hotel room, or having your cum guzzled by a ruthless alien on the Starship Enterprise. 🚀🖖
This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
Image via this post’s sponsor, Coeros, makers of cool custom sex dolls!
I’ve written quite a few articles about sex dolls and sex robots over the years, so I’ve encountered plenty of anti-sex-doll stigma while researching these products. One common argument, often made by people who are basically well-meaning, goes as follows:
“It’s fine if someone wants to own and use a sex doll, so long as it doesn’t interfere with their ability to form human relationships.”
Today I’m going to go on the record about a hot take of mine: I think it’s fine to use sex dolls even if they do disincentivize you from seeking a relationship – so long as you’re okay with that. Let me explain…
Not everyone wants romance or sex!
Yep: asexual and aromantic people might well enjoy a sex doll even if they don’t enjoy dating/fucking actual people. My allo (non-ace/aro) readers may be wondering, “Why would someone want a sex toy, presumably to be used during masturbation, if they’re asexual?!” and the answer is that sexual attraction is different and separate from sexual behavior and sexual desires. For instance, a straight woman might jerk off to lesbian porn sometimes because it focuses primarily on clit stimulation, but that doesn’t negate her heterosexuality – or a gay man might impulsively hook up with a female friend just to ‘try it out,’ and might even have a good time, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s gay.
Asexuality is a sexual orientation characterized by a lack of sexual attraction – but many ace people still masturbate and/or have sex. And since there’s a high degree of overlap between the asexual and aromantic communities, it’s entirely plausible that some ace and/or aro people might enjoy using sex dolls and other types of sex toys. These products supply sexual pleasure without the requirement of seeking human connection that may or may not be wanted.
There are also people who don’t identify as ace or aro but are celibate for various reasons – perhaps due to trauma or mental health struggles, or perhaps just as a matter of choice – and those folks could get a lot of value out of sex dolls too. If you’ve been in nonconsensual situations before that made you feel very out of control, for instance, I can see how it could be deeply empowering to get yourself a custom sex doll – you have full control over the doll and how you engage with it, which could be less scary and triggering than sex with a human being.
You don’t owe the world a cookie-cutter love story!
As queer, trans, kinky, and polyamorous people already know well, the world is full of harmful myths about what constitutes a ‘healthy’ or ‘acceptable’ relationship. There are infinite different ways to structure and label our relationships – so, although you may be drowning in cultural messages to the contrary, you have no obligation to get into a monogamous, long-term romantic relationship, or any other kind of relationship, for that matter. Your life is yours to design!
As disability and anti-fatness advocates often point out, our society mandates health as a moral good, which is why so many people feel justified in shaming fat folks and disabled folks for not ‘working hard enough’ to meet a particular definition of health. This practice is harmful and wrong-headed, not only because health depends on some factors we have no choice over (like disabilities and genetics), but also because no one is morally obligated to be healthy. Health versus illness is a practical consideration, not an ethical one.
Likewise, there’s nothing intrinsically good or bad about being in a relationship, or not being in a relationship – whether temporarily, or for decades at a time! Don’t get me wrong: humans are social creatures, and if someone lacks any meaningful social connection in their life (including friendships), that’s likely not healthy for them, and I would counsel them to join local hobby/interest-based groups to meet people. But romantic and sexual connection are not requirements for a life well-lived, and don’t let anybody tell you different.
Ultimately, it’s just a toy
I think what people tend to forget, when they clutch their pearls about sex toys ‘replacing’ human connection, is that these products simply… don’t replace human connection. A sex doll can’t make you laugh, fascinate you in conversation, or make you feel truly loved. Even as A.I. technologies get better, I don’t foresee humanoid robots ever fully overtaking humans as our preferred sexual partners. Real people are fallible, imaginative, imperfect, and human, and that’s why it’s dynamic and exciting to connect with them. I love knowing that a partner chose to touch me in a specific way because of a combination of their own preferences and their knowledge of my preferences – and I find it tough to believe a robot could ever replicate that, in large part because robots cannot experience desire. (Fight me, philosophy majors. No, seriously, feel free to fight me about this in the comments; I’m curious to hear your take!)
If someone truly feels that all of their romantic and sexual needs (to the extent that they have them) are sated by a sex doll, I’m happy for them! We all should be so lucky as to have our needs abundantly met. And if they find, instead, that something is missing and that they want to continue seeking human connection, I’m happy for them too. The more pleasures you pursue and experience, the closer you get to building your ideal life – by which I mean, the life that is ideal for you, specifically. You’re the only one who gets to decide that.
So no, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with owning a sex doll, even if it does lead to a change in your romantic and sexual priorities. That’s your choice to make, because it’s your life to live – and if you want to live it hand-in-hand (or dick-in-vag) with a sex doll, more power to you. Just make sure, for fuck’s sake, that you clean it properly after every use.
This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
Helen: I guess you’re right. You seem to know yourself pretty well.
This dialogue from the movie Kissing Jessica Stein sums up exactly why it took me so long to realize I liked doing cock & ball torture (a.k.a. CBT, not to be confused with cognitive-behavioral therapy). I thought I knew myself well enough to already know, more-or-less, which kinks could appeal to me and which simply couldn’t. But I was wrong about that.
My first CBT experience
My first few penis’ed partners had no interest in genital torture – and to be fair, neither did I – so it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I encountered someone who wanted me to hurt his dick.
He brought it up during a late-night handjob. We hadn’t been dating for very long, and I was still trying to get a grasp on what worked for him, so to speak. I hadn’t been able to make him come yet, despite ample effort and interest; I had only occasionally laid beside him in bed while he got himself off instead.
Tonight I’d wanted to give it another go, but his dick still seemed unimpressed. So I floundered, technique-wise, trying anything I could think of, until… he put his hand on mine, to pause my stroking, and said, simply: “Pinch the skin as hard as you can.”
I remember thinking: As HARD as I CAN?!Are you SURE?!
But lo and behold, when I picked a spot on his shaft and followed his instruction, within seconds he was coming all over my hands.
That relationship didn’t last long, for a whole host of reasons (some sexual, some less so), but it taught me some important lessons that I would take with me into the rest of my sex & dating life – including that dick pain could be a turn-on for some people, and that apparently I was one of those people.
Why I like CBT now
It’s been nearly a decade since that initial pinchy handjob that kicked everything off, and I’ve done a fair bit more CBT since then. I’m certainly no pro, like the ballbusting experts you’ll see on clip sites and at certain fetish parties (you know who you are!), but I do it semi-regularly and with relish. Here are a few reasons I like topping for CBT…
• Hurting people who want to be hurt is hot! I wouldn’t enjoy slapping someone’s dick around unless they really, really wanted me to, because masochists’ desire for pain and positive responses to pain are what make the interaction sexy to me, for the most part. Someone begging you to hurt them, if you’re both into that, can be as hot as someone begging you to fuck them, and for the same reasons: it means they want you and they trust you. That’s high praise!
• Penises are culturally weighty. Slapping someone’s cock is really different from slapping, say, their ass or their face. Not only does it feel very physically different because of the different concentrations of nerve endings involved; it also feels pretty different psychologically for both the top and the bottom. People’s feelings about their own genitals may relate to their understandings of gender, power, desirability/attractiveness, and more, and all of that may come up during CBT play (which is part of why pre-negotiation and aftercare are so important!). Likewise, I know my own feelings about CBT as a top are influenced by cultural baggage I’ve absorbed about dicks; over the course of my life, I have felt afraid of them, fascinated by them, desirous of them, and often some combination thereof, so it’s an interesting experience psychologically to inflict consensual pain on one.
• New routes to pleasure/orgasm are cool! Few things are sexier to me than seeing someone being overwhelmed by pleasure, especially unexpectedly intense pleasure – and even though I’ve made my partner come many times by slapping their cock at this point, I still find it astonishing every single time. Aside from that one experience with a previous partner that I described above, neither my spouse nor I had played with this kink to this extent before, so it feels intimate and sweet that we’ve found this new-to-us way to share pleasure through pain.
How about you, dear reader? Are you a CBT aficionado, or is it a bridge too far for your delicate, uh, sensibilities? 😉
This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
So perfect, in fact, that I was FURIOUS when someone in my building STOLE THE PACKAGE containing my custom-made dong, before I was able to retrieve it from outside my door.
And so perfect, indeed, that when Valm sweetly offered to just mail me another one, I was so delighted that all my anger at the anonymous dildo thief dissipated in the wind. I hope they’re enjoying my dildo, wherever they are. I know I am.
That gradient tho
Customization options
In terms of shape and size, Valm’s dildo options are simple and straightforward: there’s a 6-inch version, an 8-inch one (which is the one I chose to review, because my vagina is Goldilocks, apparently), a 10-inch and a 12-inch. Size queens/kings/monarchs, take note!
Each size option is available in 3 different silicone formulations: single-density, dual-density, and triple-density. Multi-density silicone is often used to make dildos feel more realistic – it means that the toy has a firm silicone core, with one or two layers of softer silicone on top. This creates a more lifelike penis-esque feeling, and also allows a dildo to be firm enough to stroke internal erogenous zones while also being squishy enough to be super comfortable.
The more silicone densities a dildo has, the more realistic it tends to feel – but more densities also means a higher price, so keep that in mind when making a decision. For instance, the dildo I’m reviewing is dual-density and costs $161, while the single-density and triple-density versions of the same size cost $117 and $191, respectively.
Most glorious of all is the color options. You can get Valm toys in a couple of different skin tones or various bright colors. They’re also able to do custom gradients. I thought long and hard (dick joke barely intended) about what I wanted, and eventually settled on a gradient: the dildo is neon orange fading into hot pink toward the base of the shaft. Words and photos cannot do justice to how eye-gougingly bright it is IRL. It is technicolor. It is camp. It is 1960s (like this Gala Darling outfit). I love it so much.
Things I like about this dildo
The colors. Have I mentioned the colors?! This thing is soooo bright!
The dual-density silicone does indeed feel really real. The head is especially squishy, which allows it to nudge up into my A-spot easily without bothering my cervix (unless I’m especially zealous). It’s firmer through the shaft, which is ideal, IMO, but still soft enough to give me that satisfying stress-ball-squish feeling when I come around it.
The size is great for me. While the dildo is 8” in total, its insertable length is 7.25”, so it can reach my A-spot with ease. The diameter is 1.65”, which manages to feel both pleasantly filling and ultra-comfortable for me (when I’m turned on enough, of course).
The coronal ridge, while not as pronounced as those I’ve seen on some other dildos, juts out enough that it feels amazing each time it strokes over my A-spot. Once I get this dildo nestled as deep as I want it, I barely have to move it in and out at all to get some pretty intense A-spot stimulation.
With its balls and suction cup base, this dildo is anal-safe, strap-on compatible, and can be stuck to hard flat surfaces for hands-free use (like shower walls, kitchen floors, or glass coffee tables – hey, you do you). The chunky base works well as a handle when thrusting, even on days when my hands are sore.
The surface of the silicone is unusually glide-y (as opposed to draggy) when well-lubricated, so I can thrust it fast and hard without encountering much resistance – which some people might not like, if they enjoy a lot of friction against their vaginal or anal walls, but I like it because it means my hands and arms don’t get sore from thrusting this dildo.
Things I don’t like about this dildo
Its shaft is quite straight, so if you’re looking for a G-spot-focused dildo, look elsewhere. As mentioned, I love this toy for A-spot stim, but that’s not everyone’s jam, and that’s fine.
The hyper-realistic ridges and folds around the head of the dildo, which are meant to look like (and indeed do look like) the corresponding features on a human penis, are pronounced enough on this toy that they can be mildly annoying to clean. Get in there with an old toothbrush or a washcloth and you should be fine.
The price points of these dildos are somewhat high compared to other dual-density options I’ve seen, but they are made in the USA, which I’m sure is part of the reason for that and which may justify the cost for some buyers.
Final thoughts
To me, the Valm dual-density 8-inch is the Platonic ideal of a realistic dildo. Gorgeous colors. Pleasurable shape. Not too big, not too small, but just right (for me, anyway!). Firm where it needs to be, and squishy where it needs to be. Versatile, chameleonic, a cock-of-all-trades.
Wherever my first one ended up, I hope its thief sees its simple brilliance and beauty as clearly as I do.
This post was sponsored, meaning I was paid to write a fair and honest review of this product. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
In 2024, every time I became obsessed with a song – wanted to listen to it constantly, to roll around in it, live inside it – I would add it to this playlist.
I do this most years, and it’s one of my favorite traditions, because it always leaves me with an evocative musical diary of my year, one that will catapult me right back to this time in my life when I listen to it again in future years. Not every track on the list was recorded or released this year – they’re all just songs that mattered to me a lot in 2024, no matter when they’re from.
Long-time readers might remember that I used to highlight my favorite songs for you at the end of every year (2019, 2020, 2021, 2022), and I’d like to do the same for you this year. Here are 9 songs that got me through 2024, songs that lit me up, made me think, turned me on, struck a chord. (Why 9, and not 8 or 10? Well, 9 is just how many I loved enough to include here and had something substantial to say about.)
The best way to read this post (IMO) is to hit ‘play’ on each song before you start reading about it. I hope you enjoy these sonic gems as much as I do! 🎶💖
“[To be] sexy to somebody, it would help me out/ Oh, I need a reason to get out of the house/ And it’s just a little thing I can’t live without”
My uncle Kevan (himself a legend in Canadian punk rock in the ’80s) sent me this one, because he likes the production on it, which is indeed excellent: vibey, groovy, quirky. But it was the song’s lyrics that hooked me immediately. “Sexy to someone is all I really want,” sings the cherubic Clairo; “sometimes sexy to someone is all I really want.”My cousin Sean called this “some of the most unambitious flirting I’ve ever heard,” which made me laugh, because I have the same ambition as Clairo in this regard, and I agree with Sean that it’s not exactly a big ask: I want to feel like someone finds me sexy, at least some of the time.
That feeling, of being wanted and knowing you’re wanted (even if just by one person in the whole entire world), is like a jangly shot of espresso in my veins. It gets me up and gets me out of the house, as Clairo says, and it also gets me creating, smiling, giggling, blushing, and (let’s be honest) jerking off more often.
Like me, Clairo seems to view this sexy energy as a life-sustaining force, “something I see in everything,” which pools and flows throughout your life like “honey sticking to your hands, sugar on the rim.” I’m at my best when I feel wanted and am wanting in return. Despite all the spiritual books I’ve read which decried desire as the root of all misery, I think I’m at my happiest when I’m caught in a hot spiral of want.
“If you keep up with me, I’ll keep on coming back/ If you do it too good, I’m gonna get attached/ ‘Cause it feels like heaven when it hurts so bad/ Baby, put it on me – I like it just like that”
Speaking of “a reason to get out of the house,” this was my go-to song whenever I had a hard time getting out of bed this year. Even on bad fibro days, I still wanted to dance to this one!
In my line of work, one of the questions I get asked most often is, “I’m into [insert kink or sexual practice here]; am I normal?” I always try to explain to people that sexual ‘normalcy’ is a meaningless construct, and is hardly worth aspiring to anyway (do you really want to have the most average sex life on the block?!). But usually they keep fretting nonetheless – probably because, at their core, they’re afraid that their desires make them undesirable, unloveable, or broken, when in reality, they just need to find partners they’re compatible with.
For that reason, I love this song’s iconic refrain, “Is somebody gonna match my freak?” Tinashe is such a charismatic, captivating performer both dance-wise and vocally that the sentiment comes across confident as hell: no sniveling about wanting to be normal, but rather, wholeheartedly embracing that one is not ‘normal,’ and daring all potential suitors to keep up. We should all be so lucky as to find somebody who ‘matches our freak,’ whatever that happens to mean for us.
“Made me die, made me melt/ You have changed the way I felt/ With your touch, with your help/ You took a pessimist and turned me into something else”
To me this song sounds like walking home on a winter’s night after a really great fourth or fifth date, thinking, “Jesus, this thing might actually have legs.” It’s that almost-falling-in-love feeling, that oh-shit-what-the-fuck feeling, hands jittering in your mittens. Michaels’ bell-like soprano pings through the curtains of snow like a streetlamp lighting the way forward: “I think I see a lifetime.”
With so much going wrong in the world this year (to say the fucking least), I spent a lot of time thinking about hope. It’s hard to stay optimistic in such a fucked-up time, even though we need some optimism in order to keep going. One thing I have noticed in myself over and over again is that romance is an almost-endless wellspring of optimism for me, able to replenish my hope when it’s run dry. Whatever neurochemical hell is wrought on my system by doomscrolling, the opposite effect is achieved when I get a text from the cutie I’m crushing on, or when I go out for an intimate dinner with my spouse, or even when I obsess about a celebrity I think is hot. It’s that same life force again, the one Clairo was talking about.
I relate to this song deeply, because my spouse indeed “took a pessimist and turned me into something else.” Our love is the biggest, best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and because we’re polyamorous, I have the freedom and capacity to experience other big loves in the future – something which only really seems possible to me because of how incredible my love story with my spouse has been and continues to be. If it happened once, something similar could always happen again, albeit in different and unexpected ways. It’s one of the things I treasure about non-monogamy, and it’s one of the many reasons I’m glad I’m not such a pessimist anymore.
“What the hell is a blouse? … Is it dissimilar to a baggy shirt?/ Or a sail too small for a boat to work?/ A pillowcase, but with a place for arms?/ A V-neck with exceptional grace and charms?/ A classic tee that got loose and swollen?/ A button-up with all the buttons stolen?”
And now, for something completely different…
This song made me laugh more than any other this year. I would listen to it when I was sad sometimes, because its silliness cracks me up, like when Zach & Jess refer to blouses as “the apparel enigma, the Stonehenge of clothes.”
At one point this year, I was standing in line waiting to get my book signed at a Casey McQuiston reading, and the people behind me got into an animated discussion of the very question asked by this song: “What is a blouse?!” It took all of my strength not to turn around, whip out my phone, and play them the track!
“I’ve learned to apologize/ Learned to trust somebody with my body, I/ learned there’s a life outside my eyes”
Atwell has described this song as “a bit of a private joke” with her partner: the two of them lived across from a co-op that was always playing music that would get stuck in their heads when they went there. One day Bess came back humming, and her partner said, “Did you even go to the co-op if you don’t come back singing the pop song that was on?” which later became the refrain of this tune. (“You said I couldn’t fit that in a song,” Atwell adds teasingly on the second repetition.)
It’s a song about domesticity, about living in close quarters and loving it. It reminds me dearly of the time I spent crammed into tiny apartments with my beloved during the early pandemic – six months at their place in New York, four months at mine in Toronto. The soothing familiarity of our routines kept me sane during that wild time.
It’s also a song about finally being able to relax with somebody, after the tumult of trauma. I, too, have “learned to trust somebody with my body.” There are many ways to help that process along, but one of them (for me, at least) is to have these comforting rituals I share with my partner, whether they be devouring Netflix dating shows after work, attending our favorite improv show on Sunday nights, or even going to the co-op.
“I love my broke boy/ Not a billionaire baller or dough boy/ Used to give him cash so he could get some gas/ ‘Cause he knows how to give me that O, boy!/ Still-lives-at-home boy/ Ain’t got a house or a plane or a Rolls Royce/ There’s no credit card that’s gonna buy my heart/ ‘Cause I gave it all to a broke boy”
I think this is an… anticapitalist love song?! Fuck yeah! More of this, please!
I’ve been a fan of Malia Civetz’s big bold voice and top-notch songwriting for a few years now, and while her song “Is It You?” was my #1 most-played song this year (it’s a banger), “Broke Boy” is the one I have the most fondness for at the moment.
I just love how plainly Malia lays it out in this song: Being broke doesn’t make you unworthy of love. Romance is commonly depicted as an expensive endeavor – dates, meals, gifts, etc. – but it doesn’t have to be, because human connection itself is free. And as Malia points out, her broke boy may not be able to afford fancy vacations around the world, but it’s okay, ’cause he “took [her] on a trip with just the tip of his tongue.” 😜
“As soon as I had a place to go, I went/ There’s gotta be more to life than paying rent/ I said what I said, so I wouldn’t have to say/ what I wasn’t ready to tell you”
I never thought there would be another Softies album in my lifetime. There hadn’t been any for 24 years. And then, just like magic, they put out a new one. I practically started hyperventilating when I found out.
I’ve loved the Softies’ sweet voices and mellow guitars since I was about 12 years old, when a listener of my podcast (yes, I had a podcast in 2004… it’s a long story) sent me a digital mixtape. In that .zip file were many songs I still adore to this day, like “All the Umbrellas in London” by the Magnetic Fields and “Chick Habit” by April March… but there was also the Softies, and I fell down that rabbit hole hard, begging my mom to let me use her credit card to order their CDs online. I’ve been a fan ever since, and hope to be able to see them play live someday.
This song has stuck with me most from the latest album, for whatever reason. As with many Softies songs, its lyrics are vague enough that it could mean many different things, but for me it evokes a woman who’s ending things with her male partner upon realizing she’s gay (which incidentally I also wrote a song about once). It’s bittersweet in that way – affectionate, but at arm’s length; compassionate, but cutting ties. And because it’s the Softies, it floats and soars like sunshine on clouds, jazz chords as plainspoken as love.
“Oh, can we take this slow?/ Everybody’s always known/ but I didn’t want to admit/ And when we’re cheek to cheek/ I feel it in my teeth/ and it’s too good to resist”
I first listened to this one because the aforementioned romance author Casey McQuiston cited it as one of their inspirations while writing The Pairing, easily my favorite romance novel I’ve ever read, which also happens to be a very fucking sexy book. Accordingly, as you might expect, this song is overflowing with lust and swagger. It’s about the immutability of desire: “If you want-want what you want-want, then you want it.” It’s as simple as that.
But while lust itself may seem straightforward, it can lead us into situations that are anything but. Rogers’ agile voice flips between airy softness and throaty bravado as she wavers about whether to fuck a long-time friend, first-time lover: “I hold my breath and count the times I walked my feet up to the line…” How exhilarating, then, to finally cross it.
The driving rhythm of this song feels like the locomotive momentum of lust itself, chugging along even when you wish you could throw the brake. But it’s nearly impossible to get off that train; you really “can’t hide what you desire once you’re on it… and I want you.”
“I wanna buy you chocolate hearts from CVS/ Kiss you too hard and follow you west/ Sing you sad songs on a Sunday afternoon/ Yeah, I think I’d like to tie you in ways that you can’t undo/ Dinner in bed and Korean food/ Say ‘I love you’ just a little bit too soon”
The lead singer of Winnetka Bowling League (one of my most-played artists this year), Matthew Koma, is married to Hilary Duff, which is why she has a cameo in this music video. And it’s sweet to see the two of them together, because this song is all about love.
In working on this post, I’ve noticed some throughlines in the songs I’ve loved most this year. A lot of them seem to be about new love, and finding hope in the possibility of new connections. This song is such a lovely manifestation of that – it’s about jumping the gun in a new relationship, wanting to get closer and closer, wanting to fall in love, or noticing you’ve already started to. It’s also about the eerie feeling that you might’ve just met the person you’re gonna spend forever with, something I felt a shade of when I first met my spouse: “In a dream, your future had a voice, and he spoke like me…”
I like that this song also draws your attention to the artificiality of romance, at least the type of romance you can buy from a CVS. One of the dumbest things about love is that we can find ourselves performing these cardboard rituals of romance, not because we necessarily believe in them, but just because our feelings are so damn big, we have to let them out any way we can.
What songs did you enjoy most this year, my darlings?