The provider of this word shall remain nameless, however, they know who they are. Now as a framework for recommending an album to listen to, the word is certainly suggestive, however far from bountiful in regards to fully-fleshed context. The easy way out is to find the classic manifestation of the word when applied to music, which is Marvin Gaye and his notorious album Let’s Get It On (1973); this is about as close an embodiment of the word as one can come……yet it’s too easy. Other low hanging fruit include Teddy Pendergrass’ shameless bedroom ballads on Teddy (1979), or the natural aphrodisiac that is Barry White’s deep nether-region-shaking voice on Can’t Get Enough (1974). The golden age of Neo-Soul sock-knockin’ was the 90’s when Boyz II Men had their entire catalogue, or Sade’s sultry Love Deluxe (1992), or D’Angelo’s late-night passion-soaked urban loft hit Voodoo (2000), or even Maxwell’s sensual orgy den Urban Hang Suite (1996). For more recent fare, look no further than Miguel’s psychedelic shower foray Kaleidoscope Dream (2012), or the equally nocturnal between-the-sheets-a-gazing Sept. 5th (2016). When I think of music that exudes “sexy”, my personal favorite is Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together (1971) for being equal parts soulful, groovy, restorative, and sexy.
Nevertheless, in this day and age, and within the confines of our current quarantine condition, I had to be more thoughtful. I wanted to find an album that is sexy in the way we need music to be right now, which above all else is warm and reassuring, intimate and calm. The next stratum of criteria goes beyond the surface of sexy to define a more elusive aspect of the word. In a world full of anxiety and paranoia, of constant re-framing of reality and self-identity, a paramount need is confidence in oneself. The titans of late night R&B don’t have the layperson quality to help in this regard, because those are ethereal voices mostly unrelatable to the common folk. Indeed the broad sweep of us eating potato chips on our couch in the gauzy haze of Netflix binging need an honest voice that can meet us on our level.
More than ever, we need music that is unassuming and modest, sparse and soothing, like that quaint bit of Sleepytime chamomile tea you make before bed to stop from freaking out about quarantine life. We want a charming everyperson voice, a simple and approachable sound made whole by simple ingredients that will placate a humming mind with simple strokes like the caress of a friends hand on our shoulder. The beat needs to be approachable, unadorned with cagey complexity in these most tense and ominous of times -it needs to be dependable, consistent, and never alarming. The music should be composed of the most unembellished and sparsely sincere sounds, like your next door neighbor’s barely-passable keyboard playing – the sounds you have been listening to for five straight days within self-confinement. Most importantly, the vocals should be like a warm elixir, felt deep in the belly as a homely and welcoming element wrapping the body in a blanket of unconditional comfort. That voice should say in the most humble of ways, “hey, we’re gonna be alright, you’re doing okay…..you will get through this.” After all, nothing is more sexy in this day and age than being true to yourself and confident in your capabilities. Lizzo told me so.
So my album pick for this first week is Coming on Strong, the debut LP from the good old London boys Hot Chip.
This album was fittingy recorded in The Bunker in Fulham, London back in 2004, when the craziness of today’s landscape wasn’t even a glimmer in the eye. Oh how I often long to quarantine in a bunker listening to Hot Chip record this album. What a thought to be back in 2004, as I sit plaintively pounding on my keyboard in this year 2020, in a 500 square foot apartment I am getting all too familiar with in a sort of restless and finicky sense. However, when I put on Coming on Strong, I was greeted by the greatest of opening salves with “Take Care”, sung in Joe Goddard’s quivering everyman croon. Hot Chip is a great band for quarantine listening because they play honest soulful music without an ounce of pretension or conceit. They play low-key and downtempo synth jams that flirt with the line between Neo-Soul and Indie-Electronica. Each track did everything it could to calm my mind. Yes, I was getting a bit of a post-traumatic feel during the fourth track “Playboy” when sounds reminiscent of a siren start whirling (this track might be called the most “raucous” and unnerving of songs on the album, a faint reminder of the current crisis, but again this is all relative within this album), yet I was quickly rescued by the fifth cut “Crap Kraft Dinner”, which doubles down on the earnestly wholesome and downtrodden beat of the early tracks on the record.
One of my favorite tracks on the album is the third “Keep Fallin”, not just for the nonsensical, self-deprecating lyrics, but for the way Goddard goes for broke with his penchant style of blue-eyed soul singing that vacillates between charming karaoke lounge and thinly-veiled Stevie Wonder impersonation. The fact that his voice and the music is so ordinary and low-key, yet unabashedly confident and swaggering is the secret sauce for this band. They are just being themselves, humbly and honestly, and it makes for a beautiful complexion. Another testament to this band’s unwavering faith in themselves is that this was their debut album – they came out of the gates with a soft and mature sound that didn’t scream. Instead it whispered, and whispered with all the confidence their understated sound could muster. This is sexy on the most Hinge and Bumble level, this is Jeff in a flannel shirt, this is hipster Craig in a floral print and thick-rimmed glasses just rolling with online rejection, singing his song without the faintest hint of retreat.
The most “sexy” track on this album is probably “Bad Luck”, a hushed bedroom pop song that softly drapes the listener with gentle keyboards and a random yet conciliatory xylophone. Another good one is the appropriately titled “Down with Prince”, the sixth track, which reminds me that Prince and his sexy self-titled album Prince (1979) undoubtedly influenced Hot Chip and the recording of this album. And if you think confidence is the sexiest quality, well just listen to “A-B-C” as the band sings, “Everybody’s whistling the Hot Chip sound (Oh!) People hear the beat and then their bodies move around (Oh!) When the ground is shaking then you know you you felt the bass (Oh!)Then the singer starts the thing proceeds to wreck the place (Oh!)”. In that track you get a taste of the unfounded belief the group has in themselves, and by the last track from our American version of the album “From Drummer to Driver”, you’ll understand these pasty white boys from London have got the swagger of modest conviction, they bask in their understatement, they roll with their casual charm – these boys are sexy synth beasts. The world might feel like its falling apart, but Hot Chip is pretending everything is just fine, and they are smiling at you with a friendly face, singing a warm Soul lullaby.
Take care and enjoy.
