Staff Top 10
Top Ten Songs That Remind Me Of Sex

the Neptunes Introduce… Clones has got me thinking, as has the hot weather and the subsequent explosion of scantily-clad young ladies around Exeter, about sex. Everywhere I look there seem to be couples in the flush of lust (were I in Faliraki there’d be young menageries in the flush of oral-sexual indecency, no doubt) and the anticipation of tactile kisses and palpable orgasms hangs heavy in the air as summer breathes its last, sweaty breaths over our erogenous zones. As the only tribute I know how to make, here are the top ten songs that bring to life thoughts and feelings of the down-and-dirty and oh-so-goddamn-good in me…

“Untitled (How Does It Feel?)” - D’Angelo
Stepping back from the chicken-blood and incantations for a moment, D’Angelo starts thinking about makin’ love again, starting slow and with nothing but a rimshot and then lazily, deliberately, nonchalantly piling on the sensation and seduction ‘til you relent, spread yourself and let him in. And when, four minutes in, he starts getting serious (“baby close the door”), the all-too sweet climax soon gets reeled in such that it becomes unbearably inevitable. And how it ends! Oh, it could go on forever, we’re just not allowed to see…

“The Dead Flag Blues” – Godspeed You Black Emperor!
Needless to say this doesn’t remind me of normal sex (when is sex normal?- when you’re dead?), but rather desperate, fatalistic, all-night, loathsome sex with someone you don’t care for but absolutely must fuck before the flames set in at the bedroom door…

“So Real” – Jeff Buckley
During the Sonic Youth-esque guitar breakdown two thirds in you can actually hear Jeff yelping like a man in the throes of his ‘little death’. Plus the lyrics! Oblique suggestion works much better than direct filth here, as Jeff moans for “the smell / and the fabric / of your simple, city dress…” Oh yes… Evocative, erotic, and charged with the powerful odour of remembrance.

“Svefn -G- Englar” – Sigur Ros
Sod the guff about them being beautiful and ethereal and so on; all those ebbs and flows, androgynous vocals and otherworldly climaxes are perfect for easing your headspace clear so your bodyspace can get busy rooting out those lingering tectonic rhythms of coitus and imagine you’re fucking an angel.

“This Is Love” - PJ Harvey
I could have picked ten songs by PJ without difficulty. Sod the unsure pain of Is This Desire?, by “This Is Love” Polly, always gifted with the sexiest, lustiest voice, is chasing you round the kitchen naked, legs on fire again, hungry for physical satiation. Which I am too upon hearing this. Elemental.

“Get On Top” – Tim Buckley
Tim, like his son, saw sex everywhere and wasn’t afraid to sing about it, especially on his awesome fuck-opus, Greetings From LA. This oozing-organ work-out reaches heights of climax that even Christine Keener probably didn’t visit that often, and if seven minutes of it isn’t enough you can always hit ‘repeat’.

“Venus As A Boy” – Bjork
I could have picked ten songs by Bjork without difficulty too, but this is the coy, innocent-sexy climax, eager and anticipatory, playful instrumentation capped off with beautifully erogenous lyrics – “his wicked sense of humour suggests exciting sex… / he’s exploring the taste of her arousal…”, fun sex, laughing sex, falling-silent-at-the-right-moment sex.

“Oh! Dear” – Six By Seven
Not so much reminiscent of sex as masturbation, there’s something insular and insecure and selfish and pining about this that suggests the object of desire is imagined and the real action is of the solo, sex-with-the-only-person-who-understands-me variety. At seven minutes thirty it’s an indulgent onanism too, strung out with skill and climaxed powerfully before giving you a moment to clean up.

“Son Of A Preacher Man” – Dusty Springfield
The whole of Dusty In Memphis aches with sexual distraction, and it was a toss-up as to whether to pick this or the opening track, a paean to the pleasures of the good-morning-fuck. But “…Preacher Man” wins out, the insouciant opening chords, rude groove and swooning, lust-filled trumpets matched perfectly with Dusty’s voice, drenched in desperate desire and gilded with guilt and illicit liaisons.

“Hit Me Baby One More Time” – Britney Spears
Because it just does

By: Nick Southall
Published on: 2003-09-12
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