music

My Favorite Album is a Decade Old (& Absurdly Romantic)

Kate Sloan

It’s funny how falling down an internet rabbit hole can lead you to opportunities, people, and art that will later change your life.

That’s what happened to me with the Fort Christmas 5-song EP titled Feathers, way back in 2011. I was an occasional follower of Rock ‘n’ Roll Bride, a wedding blog for “alternative” brides. They posted an engagement photoshoot of a couple, Jeremy Larson and Elsie Flannigan (now Elsie Larson!), whose quirky, Wes Anderson-esque aesthetic I was immediately intrigued by. When I googled them to find out more, I stumbled upon this blog post by their photographer, who mentioned that Jeremy – a musician, songwriter, and music producer – had released an entire album all about his relationship with Elsie. As a diehard romantic, of course I clicked the link. And I promptly fell in love.

Feathers clangs and clamors right off the top, crashing into my headphones with instantly cheery 1960s-style instrumentals (every part performed by Jeremy, by the way). The opening song, “The Leave Behind,” tells the story of Elsie and Jeremy’s maybe-first date – hanging out with friends on New Year’s Eve, feeling a connection, but not sure yet what to do about it. (I make a point to play this song every year on December 31st, if I’m near a piano or a ukulele, because it just makes me so damn happy to do so.)

Though later in the album he’ll sing about long-term love, getting engaged to Elsie, and wanting a future with her, the first track sparkles like freshly-fallen snow as Jeremy sings about what it feels like to realize you may have just met your future spouse:

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV in the room
But my eyes are fixed on you, and they don’t stray
Because I know that this is the beginning of
The best years of my life
The first years of our life
Starting now
With you and I tonight
-Fort Christmas, “The Leave Behind“

I think the main reason this album struck me as hard as it did was that I was looking for, hoping for, wishing for that kind of love at the time. I was about to graduate from high school, and my relationships during those tumultuous years tended to be brief, surface-level, and unsatisfying. As I walked out into the wider world of adulthood, I sensed there was big big love waiting for me somewhere out there – and the lyrics and guitars and jubilant drums of Feathers felt like the musical embodiment of everything my heart ached for.

I had a relationship with this album that I’ve had occasionally with other songs and albums throughout my life, one of total and complete obsession, self-soothing by repetition. Maybe it’s a bipolar thing, or maybe my brain just latches onto certain music in a way that is slightly abnormal. In any case, before too long I had Feathers playing in my ears at almost all hours of the day. I’d slip my headphones on as I walked to school; I’d transcribe the songs’ words in my school notebooks in spare moments during math class; I’d take solo lunches, leaving my friends behind so I could wander around outdoors under the guise of “getting food” while actually just feeding my brain with gorgeous melodies. I struggled to explain to everyone in my life why these 5 songs were literally all I wanted to listen to anymore (and why I had to play them on loop on the shared family computer when my mom was trying to watch Grey’s Anatomy in the next room). These songs had come to feel like an integral part of my mental and emotional functioning. They felt like food, or water, or air.

At some point I even set Feathers as my alarm, so I could be blasted awake every day not by blaring beeps but instead by Jeremy Larson’s joy. Sometimes I put it on when I went to bed at night, too – though the album made me buzz with happiness so profoundly that I often found it hard to sleep when it was playing.

It’s useless to pretend
You’re not in love with your best friend
On nights like these, it’s fairly evident
-Fort Christmas, “Story Telling”

Two or three months into this Feathers-mania, I met my first serious boyfriend. He was a mild-mannered, good-hearted, goofy nerd from OkCupid, and although I’d had severe anxiety about dating cis men until that point, he ushered me into that world with unfathomable patience and care. (He also encouraged me to start this blog and faithfully cheered me on for years after I did, but that’s another story.) I began to fall in love for the first time.

The songs of Feathers, which are largely about NRE (New Relationship Energy), were the perfect backdrop for this era in my life. It was almost like they had been written for me to listen to at this time – or, more likely, listening to them so much had ushered circumstances into my life that could readily create the same feelings I conjured in my body and brain every time I listened. For the first couple months of our relationship, I kept accidentally calling my new boyfriend “Jeremy,” which was not his name – not because I would rather have been dating Jeremy Larson (my esteem for him has always been mostly limited to musical admiration), but because over my hours and hours of looped listening, his name had crept into my head as the one most associated with crushiness, romantic excitement, and love – and that’s how my boyfriend made me feel. (I’m sure I tried to explain this at the time, and I hope he took it as a compliment!)

I survived the worst night of my life
It went long, staggering 26 years strong
And you arrived to save me, just in time
A new light, morning light, and here we are together
-Fort Christmas, “Newbie“

I think what has stuck with me most about this album is the way it showed me what I find romantic. Or maybe it helped create my sense of what is romantic. I honestly could not fathom, at age 18, that anyone would ever love me enough to, say, write and record and produce an entire album about how much they loved me. I already had inklings that this type of creative effort impressed me, turned me on, and made me swoon (the enby ex who penned me love poems in scrappy zines; the saved voicemail of a girlfriend breathily serenading me), but this album clarified for me that those wishes weren’t just fantasies. People like that really existed somewhere out there.

That first serious boyfriend was a game developer, and during our relationship, he made games for me, like little digital interactive love notes. He also sketched portraits of me, took cute photos of me, cooked me meals, and wrote me beautifully effusive messages on special occasions. His love-borne creativity may not have manifested exactly like Jeremy Larson’s did when he wrote Feathers about Elsie, but that album had broadened my romantic psyche enough that I could see these gestures for what they were: deep, devoted love.

I still listen to Feathers a fair amount. In fact, pretty much whenever it crosses my mind for any reason, I pull it up on my phone and put it on. Even just hearing those opening drum beats makes my entire body relax – because these songs remind me of a time when I believed in and wanted love more than I believed in or wanted anything. And that’s a good feeling, even 10+ years and 5+ partners later. The contours of my heart would be different today if I hadn’t clicked that fateful link in 2011 – or if Jeremy Larson hadn’t picked up a guitar and thought, “I’m going to write some songs about the person I love.”

Here’s a promise I can keep:
I’ll never find another like you
We will stay together
Will you make a lucky man,
An honest man, a better man
For not allowing you to slowly slip away?
-Fort Christmas, “Engaged“

12 Days of Girly Juice 2020: 4 Fun Events

Kate Sloan
Wow. Remember crowds?

While plotting this blog series, I considered swapping out this list of my fave events of the year for something more… timely. After all, as far as in-person events go, we’ve seen better years, to say the least. But as far as virtual events go? This was very probably the best year on record.

So here are the 4 events that stuck out most in my mind this year – some in-person, some virtual. I’m immensely grateful to everyone involved in making each of these happen, because this year needed a whole lot of brightening and they managed to brighten it.

(I’m not going to write about my wedding here, by the way… not because it wasn’t one of my favorite events of the year, but because that feels like a cop-out!)

Get On Your Knees

How could I have known what comedian Jacqueline Novak‘s one-woman show Get On Your Knees would be like? All I knew about it was that she was funny and well-reviewed, and that the show was about blowjobs. There are so many different ways a person can talk about blowjobs – I should know – so I wasn’t sure what to expect.

What ensued was a meandering and deeply personal show-long monologue about Jacqueline’s formative fellatio experiences. Her fears, her insecurities, her failures – and also her triumphs, her joys, her successes. She stalked around the stage, mic in hand, ranting about scrotal skin, vulva shame, and the inability to turn off her racing thoughts while giving head. Each and every observation felt fresh, relatable, and outrageously funny.

Part of the reason I do what I do here at Girly Juice is that women have traditionally been discouraged from talking openly about their sex lives – especially if they enjoy sex, especially if they’re critical of the men they have sex with, and especially if the types of sex they prefer to have are considered non-standard. To see a successful female comedian speaking frankly about sex on stage – in a manner both vulnerable and hilarious – reinvigorated my courage and drive to do what I do. I’m so happy Jacqueline’s show got the critical acclaim it deserved, and I know she’s changed the comedy landscape for the better.

The Beaches & Goodbye Honolulu at the Danforth Music Hall

Remember February? Ahh, ignorance was truly bliss.

On February 28th, I flew home from a weeks-long stretch in New York. The reason I’d picked that day was that on February 29th, I had a ticket to go see my brother’s band open for the Beaches. All I knew about the Beaches, going into this show, was that Max’s band had toured with them before, knew them pretty well, and respected them a lot. I knew they were an all-girl group, and some internalized misogyny led me to assume that they wouldn’t rock as hard as Goodbye Honolulu does. Well, I was very wrong.

Sitting in the cushy balcony of the legendary Danforth Music Hall with my parents, I had a quasi-religious experience at that show. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, at least not for the bands; they played their guitars and drums and basses, sang and screamed into their mics, strutted around the stage in hot outfits. But it had been a while since I’d been to a proper rock show, and I felt high even though the only “substance” I’d consumed was a beer from the bar downstairs. I was completely captivated by these bands – first the boys, and then the girls – their talent, their drive, their intensity.

Afterward, I walked out onto the snowy street, dazed and cleansed. I didn’t know, at the time, that this would be the last music show I’d go to in-person for a very long while. But knowing what I know now, I couldn’t have picked a better last hurrah before lockdown.

Abolish Police in Canada teach-in

It had been a few years since I’d been to a political rally, so attending an No Pride in Policing teach-in/rally at Nathan Phillips Square in late June was powerful.

Black and Indigenous activists spoke, read poetry, sang, and played music – some from afar via Zoom, some right in front of us – about the harm police have caused to their communities, and the structural changes that need to be made. Matt and I sat on the pavement, surrounded by hundreds of other (mostly masked and socially-distanced) rapt onlookers, and listened, clapped, and cheered.

The opposition to the event, while expected, was still disheartening. Police on bikes swarmed the perimeter; racist anti-maskers sprayed droplets with their enraged screams. But people attending the event, either as performers or onlookers, dealt with these threats in peaceful and purposeful ways, usually just blocking the opposition’s path to the stage so they couldn’t disrupt the proceedings further.

Since it happened around the same time Pride usually does, and was put on by the No Pride in Policing coalition, this was decidedly a queer community event. It felt so amazing to gather with other queers in service of a vitally important goal – defunding the police and redistributing their budget to other, more worthy causes – during Pride month, a time that’s always been political for us. The work being done by Black Lives Matter Canada (not to mention the organization’s other chapters worldwide) is absolutely phenomenal; I only hope that privileged policymakers start actually listening to them sometime soon.

Theatresports Online

The Bad Dog Theatre has been one of my favorite places for over 14 years. Unfortunately, now, it’s no longer so much a place as a community – both because the pandemic has prevented in-person gatherings, and because the pandemic has caused the Bad Dog to have to give up its physical space for the time being. They’re looking for a new one, but until then, we still have online shows to look forward to.

The programming put on by the Bad Dog this year made every week feel about 15% more bearable for me. Whether their improvisors were performing impromptu plays about love and sex, playing Dungeons & Dragons over Zoom, or interviewing fake “experts” about their fake books, they made me laugh so hard I cried every time I tuned into their YouTube channel.

Theatresports is the Bad Dog’s flagship improv show. I think the first time I ever saw an improv show in my life (that wasn’t an episode of Whose Line Is It Anyway), it was a Theatresports show. It’s a competitive shortform show where two teams go head-to-head to see who can create the funniest scenes and games. In its online form this year, it was hosted every week by Tom Hearn, a vivacious beacon of brightness forever wearing elaborate drag makeup and randomly breaking into song between scenes.

Every time I had a hard week, whether related to pandemic stress, work stress, family stress, or literally anything else, I always knew I could sit down in front of the TV on Thursday night and the Bad Dog crew would keep me company and crack me up. They helped get me through this hell year, and I know I’m not the only one they helped in that way. I can never thank them enough for the laughs they served up in 2020.

 

What events made you happy this year?

12 Days of Girly Juice 2020: 10 Perfect Sex Songs

Kate Sloan

We have arrived at one of my favorite 12 Days of Girly Juice instalments: the one where I tell you about some of the sexiest songs I grooved on this year! I will admit that while this list was originally meant to be literal sex songs, i.e. songs you would want to listen to while having sex, it has transformed over the years and become moreso a list of songs that feel sexual or sensual in some way, but aren’t necessarily sexy, if that makes sense. You’ll see what I mean…

As ever, here’s a Spotify playlist that contains all of this year’s picks + those from every previous year I’ve done this. Enjoy!

Her’s – Low Beam

I know what you’re thinking / You can take me for a ride / Baby, hit me harder / ‘Cause I’m never gonna hide / You can keep on running, but you’re running out of track / I’m-a keep it coming, as a matter of fact

I wrote a bit about this band last year; they’re a duo who were tragically killed in a car crash in 2019, so listening to them is very bittersweet. I’m absolutely enamored with their sound – the peppy guitar parts, the sensuous harmonies, the singer’s deep and morose voice.

I don’t really know what “Low Beam” is about – this band’s lyrics can be charmingly opaque at times – but I do know that it was a central component of my first shrooms trip in February. For some reason, the line “You can keep on running, but you’re running out of track” got lodged in my head and became a mantra, an affirmation, a tether, an anchor. I begged my trip-sitter Brent to put this song on the stereo several times throughout that day, and danced my ass off every time. This song just… feels good in my body and brain, like laughing at a party with friends, or strutting down the street on a sunny day, or – yes – excellent sex.

Brotherkenzie – Poems on My Phone

I’ve got the thought of you inside my bed / That thought’s the only thought inside my head / Mezcal left over from my birthday week / Still here, but without you it’s hard to drink

Brotherkenzie’s Big What was hands-down one of my favorite new albums this year. It’s contemplative, groovy, worried, and weird. “Poems on My Phone” stands out as a particularly poppy, hooky tune, and is also probably the sexiest track on the record.

It’s a “relatable mood,” as the kids are saying, because it’s about that feeling when someone you’re crushing on goes away for a while and you just can’t get them out of your head. The beat of this tune has the same plodding inevitability as intrusive infatuated thoughts: they just keep coming, uncontrollably, while you’re trying to focus on other things, and all you can really do about it is write poems on your phone.

Marika Hackman – Send My Love

Are you coming home to feel alone? / Did you love me tonight, or any night of our lives? / It’s never gonna be like it was before / The writing’s on the floor

I discovered this song while trying to scope out some lesbian drama online. The ever-fantastic Amber Bain, of the Japanese House (a band that’s appeared on this list more than once), dated fellow singer/songwriter Marika Hackman for years (so I gather), and indeed, several songs on her quintessential breakup album Good at Falling are about Marika. One day I was creeping through Amber’s social media posts and saw she had given her now-ex’s new album a resounding recommendation – and her favorite track, she said, was “Send My Love.” Obviously I had to give it a listen.

Marika’s sweet, lilting voice was so interesting to hear for the first time after listening to her ex warbling about her in a comparatively sad, gravelly voice for years. This song feels to me like Imogen Heap and Phoebe Bridgers’ lovechild – a driving rhythm, a pretty melody, a thoughtful vibe, and gay undertones out the wazoo.

Sarah Harmer – Late Bloomer

Never thought I’d be the marrying kind / It was nothing to be always left behind / From the ship that would sail with everyone on it / I said, “Give me the land – I know what I want and where I’m wanted” / But you came in whistling, “I’ll go if you’ll go” / And I was waiting around to play like an old piano

Okay, I know not everyone will think this song is sexy, but something about Sarah Harmer’s voice makes me into a crushy queer mess – and this song overflows with romantic tension moreso than sexual tension, the former being, paradoxically, sometimes the sexiest kind of tension. (To me, anyway.)

Sarah sings in this song about (so far as I can tell) falling hard for someone at a time when you felt sure you’d never fall that hard again. She sings about two people who thought they’d never get married, realizing that maybe they want to marry each other. It’s a last-ditch romance, a late-arriving passion, lost opportunities fading away to make room for new love. Sarah’s voice is clear and high one moment, and sexy and throaty the next. To me, this song feels like having a crush – but maybe I just have a crush on Sarah Harmer.

Alina Baraz – Take it Home

You say that you want someone to hold / I just wanna get you all alone / You just gotta say it / Don’t you keep me waiting

Alina’s been on this list every year it’s existed and the reason is clear: everything she makes is sexy. She’s in fine form here – breathy and sweet, full of yearning, singing over deep beats and smooth guitars that feel like being laid out on a big bed in a dim room by someone you’re excited to fuck.

I still find it amazing that you can hit “shuffle” on Alina Baraz’s whole discography and it’ll make the ideal sonic backdrop for sex, no matter what ends up playing. I mean. Could Alina be any more perfect?!

John Mayer – Do You Know Me?

It’s just the strangest thing / I’ve seen your face somewhere / An early evening dream / A past-life love affair / Do you know me at all?

This song came out in 2009 so I’m not sure how it’s never made its way onto this list before… It’s one of the most beautiful things John Mayer has ever written – which probably doesn’t sound like a high honor unless you’ve been a JM superfan at some point in your life like I have, because his hit songs are never the prettiest/smartest/best ones. But he’s masterful with pretty jazz chords and delicate guitar riffs, and this song is a prime example.

The lyrics are simple and spare, so it’s not totally clear what the song’s about, but I think it’s about that feeling when you see someone across the room at a party or a bar and you get the immediate sense that they’re going to be meaningful to you. Sometimes this instant resonance feels like love at first sight; sometimes it feels more like déja vu. Either way, it can be so impactful that it knocks you off your feet.

Missy Bauman – Why Do We Fight?

Is loving me too much for you? / You say that that’s unfair to you / The way that I just stared at you / I love you, I love you

I’m a little biased because my brother played drums on this track, but it really is stunning. “Dreamy drug folk” singer Missy‘s voice is clear as a bell here, sad, sensuous, sparkly. This song kinda sounds like what would result if My Brightest Diamond covered a Weeknd song: haunting, tragic, yet oddly sexy.

You know that period of time near the end of a relationship when you’re still having sex, but you know with near-certainty that you’re going to break up sometime soon? This song feels like that. Like the last gasps of something that used to feel good, and still does, a little.

Broken Social Scene – All to All

Call of forgiveness / I’m like the beat of the hurt / I’m not the only one you tried to save / When you fell out

I stumbled across this song because I was fervently Googling the beautiful Lisa Lobsinger, big-haired and soft-voiced lead singer of the long-defunct band Reverie Sound Revue (who I’ve mentioned on this list previously). She occasionally sings for Broken Social Scene, a “super-band” known for its huge rotating cast of players from the Canadian music world, like Feist and Emily Haines.

One of the magical things about Lisa Lobsinger is that she can make you feel things even if you can’t understand what she’s actually saying (and you often can’t). She can also take lyrics that don’t really make sense, and make them feel like a coherent emotional statement. All this to say: I have no clue what this song is about, but I know that it feels like it’s about regret, remorse, missed opportunities, “right place, wrong time,” and the way we ruminate when a relationship ends but we desperately wish it had not.

Chet Atkins – Take Five

This guitar arrangement of the Dave Brubeck Quartet classic is searching and chaotic and weird. “Take Five” is known among jazz nerds for its unusual quintuple time signature; most songs count to 3 or 4 in every bar, but this one counts to 5. To me, this makes “Take Five” feel more like the way bodies actually move in the dark. Fucking isn’t always steady or predictable; sometimes there’s sudden pauses to readjust, or brief interludes of still whispers, or hard thrusts thrown in like a wrench in the works. Our bodies and their rhythms are deeply erratic and that’s part of why they’re also erotic.

I heard this guitar version of the song while I was out somewhere, and Shazam’ed it immediately, because I was stunned by the skill involved. The original is a sax playing an iconic melody over top of some supportive piano chords, but Chet Atkins has somehow managed to cram all that complexity into a guitar arrangement he apparently played all at once, all by himself. If the Brubeck version feels like off-kilter sex, this version feels like off-kilter masturbation – equally charming, but in its own way.

Andy Shauf – Changer

I heard you’re back in town / Working at the drugstore / Did you get the city blues? / That, I can relate to / Change on, changer

Andy Shauf’s The Neon Skyline is probably my favorite new album of 2020. What can I say – I just love the guy. A quiet Canadian indie legend who pens thoughtful songs about made-up characters in made-up situations, he’s the type of brilliant songwriter who can make me cry through a computer screen. (And indeed he did, this year, when he played the sad gay unrequited love song “To You” on a fundraiser concert stream. I literally could not stop the tears from flowing and flowing. I think I got a bit dehydrated. Dammit, Andy.)

“Changer” is the closing track of Skyline; the protagonist has just spent the entire album yearning for his recent ex, Judy, and awkwardly trying to get her back, and “Changer” is a moment of sad reflection at the end of a drunken night. Judy has changed, while her mopey ex has not. He still wants her; she just wants to move on. I can picture this song playing on the jukebox at the Skyline bar where the album takes place, as our hero slow-dances with someone whose name he doesn’t know, trying to forget the love he doesn’t get to have anymore.

 

What sexy (or sexy-adjacent) songs did you love this year?

12 Days of Girly Juice 2019: 10 Perfect Sex Songs

Kate Sloan

Music is important. It’s a love language, a mood-setter, a spirit-lifter. When nothing else can make me feel sexy, music often can – which is part of why I highlight 10 of my favorite sexy and sex-adjacent songs for you here every year. Here are my 2019 picks! (Want to listen to all of these songs, as well as previous years’ faves, in one handy playlist? Here you go!)

Kid Bloom – Different State of Mind

Sinking right into the crimson clouds / Waiting for this thing to spin me out / I’m swimming in my head

This song is the musical embodiment of what it feels like to sit and people-watch in a park on a sunny Saturday while stoned off your ass. It’s slow and trippy and relaxing and makes me feel like everything is right in the world (a rare feeling these days). It’s also perfectly suited for sex, especially a languorous, lazy fuck on a weekend afternoon when you have nowhere to be but in bed and nothing to do but each other.

Kehlani – Honey

I like my girls just like I like my honey: sweet / A little selfish / I like my women like I like my money: green / A little jealous

I knew I liked Kehlani’s voice when I realized I’d Shazam‘ed the same song twice – this one – upon hearing it in public. Both times, I was struck by the feeling of needing to know who this masterful, smoky-voiced singer was. Kehlani sounds gorgeous in this song, like she deeply understands the feelings of love and sex and relaxation and can convey them directly from her own brain to yours, like an injection.

Carly Rae Jepsen – Everything He Needs

Soft rain / We roll the windows down / Sweat disco all night / It’s clear / We’d like to fool around / His hands reach for mine

Carly Rae is essentially the patron saint of unrequited love, so it’s rare to hear her sing an uncomplicatedly romantic song about someone she’s actually (presumably) dating/fucking. Maybe that’s why this song stuck out to me so much on my first listen-through of Carly’s latest album. This tune is like if Barry White and Carly Rae did a collab; I didn’t know how much I needed it to exist until I heard it. (Carly also, notably, released the ode to masturbation “Party For One” this year – but tbh, I like this one better.)

Bruno Major – Like Someone In Love

Sometimes the things I do astound me / Mostly whenever you’re around me

I mostly knew this jazz standard from Blossom Dearie’s adorable version. Bruno Major gives it an R&B update here, magicking this 75-year-old song into something new and sparkling. I think if a baby boomer and a millennial collaborated on an album specifically for ~romantic interludes~, it would all sound like this song: classic, yet seductively modern. It’s the sort of thing almost all of us can agree on.

The Japanese House – We Talk All the Time

We don’t fuck anymore / But we talk all the time, so it’s fine / Can somebody tell me what I want? / ‘Cause I keep changing my mind

Maybe it’s weird to say that a song about no longer wanting to have sex with your partner could be sexy, but what can I say – Amber Bain is a babe, and her songs are gorgeously sensuous. I have so many faves from her latest album, Good At Falling, but this is probably the one I’d most like to fuck to. The rhythm is driving, the lyrics are dark and sweet, and Amber’s voice is as pleasingly raspy as ever. I need the Japanese House to release, like, eight more albums, stat.

Tegan and Sara – Hold My Breath Until I Die

Shame on me / ‘Cause I can’t help falling at your feet / It makes me mad / To see you leave like that

I would not normally describe Tegan and Sara’s music as sexy – I mean, T&S themselves are, obviously, but their music isn’t always. However, this song has breath-play undertones (even if Tegan is actually singing about romantic anguish rather than kinky sex), and I’ve never heard Tegan’s voice sound sexier than when it goes a little breathy and plaintive in the verses of this track. I think if she sang me this song in person, I would faint…

Daniel Caesar – Japanese Denim

My blue jeans / Will last me all my life, oh yes / So should we

This romantic slow-jam makes me want to slow-dance in the dark with someone whose body fits nice with mine, which is kind of the gold standard for sexy songs, isn’t it? Daniel’s voice is like luxe purple silk. And he’s Canadian, like me!

Great Grandpa – Favorite Show

Laughing at myself again / I’ll zone out til I’m dying / I’ll zone out til I’m dead

I went through a period this year where I would wake up every day with this song stuck in my head. I don’t really know what it’s about; I just know it’s calming in its repetition, and it has the type of gently rocking rhythm that works really well for fuckin’.

Her’s – Under Wraps

I feel like I ran with a headstart / And you’re only just starting to live / Got a lot to gain / Not a lot to give

I only found out about this band because they tragically died in a car crash this year. My brother Max texted me about it, sad and shaken up, his own band having just played in a music festival with Her’s. Stephen and Audun sound angelically beautiful on this slow-grooving, sensual track; their octave-wide harmonies feel as old as time. Put on some good headphones and work your way through the Her’s discography – it’s a lovely (and kinda sad) way to spend an afternoon.

Alina Baraz – To Me

I’m not asking for too much / I’m asking the wrong motherfucker / Just ’cause we’re in love / Doesn’t mean that we’re right for each other

Alina makes it onto this list every year (literally… every… fucking… year), because she truly makes some of the sexiest music in the biz. If I’m having trouble getting into the mood to bone down (increasingly a problem for me as I get older, achier, and more ace), putting on some Alina tunes always helps at least a little. This song isn’t even particularly sexy – it’s more like “sad with a side of sexy” – but Alina sounds just as ethereal and captivating on it as she always does, which is to say, very.

 

What were your favorite sexy songs this year?

5 Frank Sinatra Songs That Are Definitely About Kink

Kate Sloan

I’ve Got You Under My Skin

The addictive, all-consuming qualities of love often described in these Tin Pan Alley-era love songs remind me so much of my kinky relationships. Modern-day dating is so much about “chillness,” or the illusion thereof, that it’s refreshing to hear these old-fashioned confessions of feeling utterly un-chill. I’ve mostly experienced this “I’d sacrifice everything, come what might, for the sake of having you near” level of devotion in kink dynamics, not vanilla relationships.

The moment that really kills me in this song, kink-wise, is this: “Don’t you know, little fool? You never can win. Use your mentality. Wake up to reality.” In the narrative of the song, it’s the voice of Frank’s own anxiety and inadequacy whispering this to him – but it’s also something the most merciless humiliatrix might spit at a submissive. And it makes me feel all tingly. Oh, Frank.

Can I Steal a Little Love?

This is pure submissive Frank. “Hug me, kiss me, til I’m red,” he sings, “til my eyes bug out my head.” Consensual violence ahoy!

Later in the song, he swears, “With a smile, I will lead you down the aisle. I won’t even need a shove.” He’s talking about marriage, sure, but it’s also this super subby promise that he’ll happily do things other men find scary or uninteresting, because he’s so devoted to his darling. Aww.

Fly Me to the Moon

This charming classic reminds me of how immersive and otherworldly kink can be. Unlike vanilla sex, it takes me out of my head and makes me feel like a temporarily different person in a temporarily different place – like I’m in outer space.

“Fly me to the moon, and let me play among the stars,” he sings. “In other words: baby, kiss me.” Oh, swoon.

Somethin’ Stupid (featuring Nancy Sinatra)

Look, it’s a little weird that Frank Sinatra sang a romantic duet with his daughter. Asked about the song 40 years after it was recorded, Nancy said, “Some people call that the Incest Song, which I think is, well, very sweet!” What a strange non-response, perfectly in line with the overall strangeness of the song and its enduring popularity.

Setting aside any implications of actual incest between Frank and his daughter – of which I haven’t seen any suspicion or proof – this song makes me picture Ol’ Blue Eyes as a Daddy dom. Several of my favorite Daddy dom tropes are based in traditional 1950s masculinity: well-tailored suits, protectiveness over women, shellacked hair, an easy and assumed dominance. That type of gender dynamic was less than consensual in actual 1950s nuclear family units (well, most of them, anyway), but it’s hot to imagine consensually reclaiming it in a contemporary context. And handsome Frank would make a hell of a father figure.

My Way

When I told friends I was working on this post, they all insisted I had to include this song – because what could be a more dommy sentiment than “I’ll do it my way”?!

However, examining the rest of the lyrics, there’s not much of kinky substance in this tune. I think what makes me think of dominance, moreso than the lyrics, is the calm confidence with which Ol’ Blue Eyes performs this big, showy song – and that same confidence when it shows up in karaoke aficionados’ performances, since this is a mainstay of that genre. Listening to this song stiffens my spine with pride and surety, so this shy little submissive can get a taste of what it might feel like to be a whole-hearted dominant.

What are your favorite kink-tinged jazz standards?