Tag: demi lovato

8 Songs Celebrating Female Masturbation, for Better or Worse

NYC electronic artist Von not only writes about female masturbation, she literally creates songs from her orgasms.

Over the past few years, female masturbation has gone from a total taboo to a popular topic among those looking to add a little ~edge~ to their art. We haven’t made it all the way to normalizing the act, but we have reached this weird middle stage where singing or writing about it is deemed a bold, avant-garde choice. That’s a far cry from the casual way we depict male masturbation, which is just assumed to happen rather than made into some sort of statement, but it’s a step above not talking about it at all.

Now that references to flicking the bean, jllling off, klittra, or whatever you want to call it are seeing the light of day, artists are scandalizing everyone’s pants off with music about female masturbation. Here are some songs that tackle the topic head-on without beating around the bush (sorry, I had to).

“Love Myself” by Hailee Steinfeld

At first listen, then-18-year-old Steinfeld’s first single sounds like a self-love anthem… until you listen closely and realize it’s a self-love anthem. Really, it’s both. “Gonna love myself, no, I don’t need anybody else,” she sings. What’s cool about the song and surprisingly G-rated video is that Steinfeld isn’t portraying herself as dirty, “slutty,” or sexy. Her innocent image conveys that masturbation isn’t just for “bad girls” – it’s for girls working toward loving and taking care of themselves… so, all girls. It’s admittedly a bit cheesy with her “self-service” shirt and lines like “I know how to scream my own name,” which don’t exactly portray female masturbation accurately (unless anyone does that? I’m willing to be proven wrong), but her decoupling of female masturbation from the male gaze makes me forgive her.

“Solo” by Clean Bandit Feat. Demi Lovato

This annoyingly catchy song exemplifies the biggest problems with the ways we talk (and, now, sing) about female masturbation. “I do it solo” is supposed to be some sort of scandalous revelation on Lovato’s part: OMG, she does what solo?! Not to mention, she presents masturbation as a mere consolation for when her ex is not around. We don’t get the impression that her sexuality exists independently of men; we learn that she’s sexual in response to them and uses her hand/vibrator/whatever as a less-than-ideal penis substitute. But truthfully, I lost all hope for this song the moment she started singing “whoop whoop” instead of “fuck.”

“Action” by Von

“Sex-positive synth pop” artist Von took the act of turning female masturbation into music to the next level by making a song out of her orgasm. I mean this literally: She used an app called Lioness to measure her orgasmic contractions, displayed them on a graph, and then used the wave pattern as the basis for the bass beat. The result is a song about sexual independence, with lyrics like “don’t need you to make it happen / one-woman show with the action.” By turning female pleasure into something as accessible as a song, Von aims to give people an easy avenue to talk about it. And by portraying female masturbation based on its internal motions and sensations, rather than its appearance, she presents it in a way that can’t be objectified.

“I Don’t Need a Man” by The Pussycat Dolls

In a similar vein, The Pussycat Dolls declare in this track that they “don’t need a man to make it happen” and “get off on being free.” Even better, they use these lines to shut down guys who think their dicks are God’s gift to womankind. If those lyrics don’t make that crystal clear, “I can get off when you ain’t around” should do it.

“I Touch Myself” by Divinyls

The OG of female masturbation anthems was progressive during its 1990 release for acknowledging that female masturbation is a thing, though it’s expectedly not the most progressive on the list today. Like Demi Lovato, Chrissy Amphlett sings about self-love sessions inspired by a particular love interest — and not only that, but she will fantasize about him and him only, playing into the stereotype that sexual desire is deeply intertwined with love for women. Even in her solo sex life, the man she’s singing about has a monopoly on her mind. The lyrics aren’t the most empowering either; the opening line “I love myself” is undermined by the subsequent “When I feel down, I want you above me / I search myself, I want you to find me / I forget myself, I want you to remind me.”

“She Bop” by Cyndi Lauper

Another classic entry on the list, Cyndi Lauper’s third single from 1983 debut She’s So Unusual was partially responsible for the creation of the Parental Advisory Sticker. The song never makes outward mention of its true subject matter; Lauper said she wanted to maintain the illusion that it was just about dancing for younger listeners. But she also claimed in an interview with Howard Stern that she recorded its vocals in the buff.

“Hump Day” by Miss Eaves

This infectious track is notable not just for confident lyrics like “I know best. I know better / I’m killing this, a real go-getter” but also for a video where Miss Eaves sings in a suggestive cat hoodie while several other women mimic their masturbation faces. They weren’t actually pleasuring themselves in the video, but as Miss Eaves has said, it’s “really good method acting.” With a diversity of women and explicit lyrics, it’s a refreshing break from songs like “Solo” and “I Touch Myself” that make masturbation either a substitute for men or a performance for them.

“Feelin’ Myself” by Nicki Minaj Feat. Beyonce

“Feelin’ Myself” takes on a double meaning here, with masturbation a metaphor for Queen Bey and Nicki Minaj owning their power and being proudly “masculine.” As an astute Genius.com user has pointed out, it may be inspired by Minaj’s “Come on a Cone” line, “I’m not masturbatin’, but I’m feelin’ myself / Paparazzis is waiting, ’cause them pictures will sell.” Whether it’s taken literally or metaphorically, the song gives women permission to be bossy, loud-mouthed, and a bit full of themselves. And, of course, to masturbate.

ONLY NOISE: Rise

Sometimes, these columns are damn hard to spit out. It’s not always easy to remain enthralled with the music world, especially when the real world seems to be crumbling around us. We don’t have to pretend. 2017 has been a fucking nightmare. We’ve witnessed the inauguration of Donald J. Trump, North Korea launching a missile over Japan, devastating floods in Houston and South Asia, and rallies filled with actual Nazis, just to name few lows.

I’m not a religious person, but I’m starting to expect widespread plague and a swarm of locusts any minute now. Just visiting The Guardian’s World News webpage fills me with terror – especially when the top headline reads: “Armageddon. Scientists calculate how stars can nudge comets to strike Earth.” What the fuck?! I’m a dyed-in-the-wool atheist, but you know what? Maybe there is someone up there, ready to just take us all out with a flaming space rock, because we clearly can’t keep things together down here.

“Um…what does this have to do with music?” you ask.

Here’s the thing: being a music journalist is pretty great. I love it more than any non-human in my life. However, when the world seems to be blazing in what Evangelicals would call “hellfire,” it’s hard to feel motivated to write about anything but serious shit. Rolling out a “think piece” on hidden messages in Taylor Swift’s new video feels like you’re stuffing your soul into a manila envelope and shipping it off to Satan for safekeeping. Even if you understand that it isn’t wrong to write about the VMAs, one still gets the sense that they are ignoring a towering elephant that is not only in the room, he’s bending the baseboards and demolishing furniture.

Of course, when I say “you” and “one,” I ultimately mean “me.” I cannot speak for other music writers. Though I can assume that many of my colleagues, who are intelligent, compassionate people, must feel some of this weight. It’s not possible that I’m the only person who suffers nauseating guilt reporting on Panorama Festival the same weekend journalists discover that North Korean missile tests have the capacity to reach New York.

So what does “one” do? Writing about art and pop culture in frightening times is a delicate matter. To say nothing of the floods, the violence, or the fear seems grossly irresponsible. To mention it only to alleviate one’s own guilt is possibly worse. I would never say making art in times of strife is a waste of time – I will always argue the opposite. I will even go so far as to say that it’s impossible to stall creativity in dire times, as conflict is one of art’s great muses. Critiquing art amidst global devastation, however, can be a task colored with shame. The question often clanging in my head being, “Does it even fucking matter?”

I don’t know. I am unfit to answer the question. Here is what I do know. This is my job. My dream job, really. Artists and the music they make are kind of like my religion (or as close as this godless writer comes to it). Even on the worst of days, when my personal and family misfortunes could inspire an entire season of All My Children, I can still be brought to my knees by the beauty of a song. I know it’s corny. I also know that a song won’t drain the waters in Houston, or rewire the brains of white supremacists (if they have anything to rewire, that is). A song can’t do much when it all comes down to it, let alone a writer writing about a song – but artists can.

While I’ve been distraught by this year’s cruel newsreel, the artists who have leveraged their platforms for good causes have given me some sense of pride in humanity. 2017’s first cry from outspoken celebrities occurred at the Women’s March on Washington (and its sister marches around the world), where the likes of Madonna, Alicia Keys, The Indigo Girls, and Janelle Monáe either performed or gave impassioned speeches denouncing Trump’s election. That same month, Canadian electro-pop group Austra released their third LP Future Politics. The album is revelatory and filled with political insight, proving that pop music doesn’t have to be sugarcoated.

In 2017 there have been countless benefit concerts for organizations like Planned Parenthood, the ACLU, and CAIR-New York (Counsel On American-Islamic Relations), to name but a few. Now the charitable hands of artists will extend to Houston. Solange has planned a benefit show later this month in Boston where 100% of proceeds will go to victims of Hurricane Harvey and its destructive floods. Fall Out Boy and rapper Bun B have planned separate but similar benefit shows, and numerous celebrities have either already given money to relief organizations (like $500,000 from Miley Cyrus and the $25,000 DJ Khaled shelled out) or promised to do so in the near future (like Beyoncé, Nicki Minaj, Demi Lovato, and DNCE).

Many of the aforementioned performers are ones I don’t artistically care for that much, but these days I’m elated they’re around. It seems that with their immense command of the public interest and disposable income, artists have taken on responsibilities that our government should have the answers and funds for. It’s a sad and beautiful truth. That these seemingly “frivolous” celebrities go above and beyond their job title in times of crisis is noble; that they even need to in the first place is appalling.

So coming back to that initial question: what does “one” do? Let’s practice some simple logic. Things are bad right now. Things are really bad; and yet, artists both famous and obscure continue to defy the idea that humans are selfish, no-good creatures. If “you” are a music writer – why not write about those artists and their honorable efforts? It’s the least, and sometimes the most “you” can do.