It Is What It Is
Sexy songs from summers past
I was on holiday in Iceland last month. Sitting in a café in Reykjavik, I heard a song that immediately transported me back to the early 90s.
I’m seven or eight years old. It’s Saturday night, way past my bedtime. I’m sitting in the back of my parents’ minivan, as Dad drives all five of us down Highway 401 towards Windsor. Rain is chucking down and wind is jostling the sides of our vehicle. We’re not phased because a sudden summer storm is not unusual in Southwestern Ontario.
We’ve come from a family party in nearby Chatham. I’m buzzing from running around with a dozen cousins and sneaking a can of after-dinner caffeine. My face is pressed to the window, searching for something, anything interesting in the wet, dark night.
The minivan’s radio is playing soft rock. I’m jolted out of my reverie by a tantalising tale:
“It was a rainy night
When he came into sight
Standing by the road
With no umbrella, no coat
So I pulled up along side
And I offered him a ride
He accepted with a smile
So we drove for a while”
Whoa, that’s weird. It’s a rainy night and I’m inside a car, too. What’s this lady on about, then?
“I didn't ask him his name
This lonely boy in the rain
Fate, tell me it's right
Is this love at first sight?
Please don't make it wrong
Just stay for a night”
I feel a patch of sweat forming on the back of my neck. Little Josh is realising what the song’s about, without really knowing what it entails. I am embarrassed because this topic is the ultimate taboo in the McNorton household. I’ve never heard my parents say the word that starts with “s” and ends with “x.”
“All I wanna do is make love to you
Say you will, you want me too
All I wanna do is make love to you
I got loving arms to hold onto”
As the story unfolds, my face gets redder, so I stay facing the window. I don’t dare look at my sisters or my parents and react. Nobody says anything, so I can’t tell if they’re listening to the lyrics or not paying attention. I don’t wanna know! And then it gets worse:
“So we found this hotel
It was a place I knew well
We made magic that night
Oh, he did everything right
He brought the woman out of me
So many times, easily”
Gross!
The song ends and some other, less memorable and surely less salty, song comes on next. To say those five minutes were uncomfortable is the understatement of my young life. Eventually, my face returns to its natural shade. The rain dissipates. I spend the rest of the journey thinking about Heart’s “All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You”; the song has planted a long-germinating seed in me.
In retrospect, “All I Wanna Do…” taught me the concept of a one night stand, sure, but the longer lasting lessons were about female autonomy and sexual freedom. I’d never heard that in a song before.
On that car ride in ‘90 or ‘91, my mind was opened by the power of a seductive song.
Fast forward five years and I’m regularly attending dances at my local community centre and high school. (I also wrote about this back in May.) Grunge and nu-metal hits are interspersed with raunchy R&B and rap. I’m embarrassed by the lyrical content of the latter, but I want to fit in and I want to meet girls, so I get my ass on that dancefloor. I find a willing female and we mimic the popular dance move of the day, “freaking.” I’m not sure I can or wish to describe it here, and the video below does a decent job. Yes, it was as awkward and ridiculous then as this couple demonstrate.
The biggest hit of mid-90s teenage dances was always “Pony” by Ginuwine. I still find the groove amazing — it was made for booty shaking — and the lyrics hilarious.
In Catholic school, we were barely taught about sex, beyond basic anatomy and practising absolute abstinence, and yet we were allowed to freak on the floor of our school’s gymnasium to “Pony” and “Thong Song” while our teachers supervised. That’s wild! But I digress.
As cheesy, over-the-top, and often misogynist a lot of 90s R&B and rap music was, I can’t deny that it contributed to my sexual awakening. Much like hearing the Heart song as a kid, freaking to “Hot in Herre” as a teenager taught me about desire and dynamics between sexes. And some terrible dance moves.
A couple years ago, I bought an artwork from a London-based artist, Archie Proudfoot, emblazoned with the words “it is what it is.” I initially liked it because of the message but, upon closer inspection, there was a lot more going on.
The artwork is at the foot of my stairs, so I walk by it dozens of times each day. I have come to adore the multiple meanings. I see it as a symbol of how far I’ve come in appreciating the birds and the bees. In my twenties, I would have thought this artwork was a bit crude to hang in my home.
Sex is something little Josh was ashamed to acknowledge, and teenaged Josh was reluctant to embrace; both of those hurdles were overcome because of music.
It is what it is. No big deal.
As I did last summer, I’m taking off July and August from new posts, so I can enjoy holidays and also plan for an autumn full of writing. Enjoy this playlist of 20 super freaky jams for summer nights. See ya in September!