Break It Down: Passionate Kisses

I first heard Lucinda Williams's "Passionate Kisses" via the Mary Chapin Carpenter cover that was all over the radio my first year in college. A few years later, I sought out the original version, but I still like to maintain that during the 90s when a lot of other women had a Liz or a Courtney, I had a Lucinda.

None of her work is even ostensibly feminist in that "woman-power" sort of way, but I never felt particularly empowered by riot grrrl anthems. The message might seem trite now, looking back twenty years later, but "Passionate Kisses" was one of the first songs where I heard a woman literally demand it all, from the mundane, like pens that work and a firm mattress, to more serious things like time alone to think, and the hook, "passionate kisses." I call this one of the great "all-girl" road trip songs, and it does seem almost perfectly tailored for the soundtrack to a female buddy movie.

Okay, aside from that, the message isn't a hugely important one, but in a world where women are still afraid to demand, let alone ask for politely, the things they want, it seemed important to 20-year-old me.

Break It Down: Not Pretty Enough

I usually try not to make these things personal, but "Not Pretty Enough" was ruined for me by a badly-sequenced mixtape from a man who turned out to be kind of a douche.

Break It Down: Who's That Girl?

last.fm

As if I don't sing the praises of this woman enough, Robyn has been making stealthily feminist (or at least not anti-feminist) music for about a decade now, yet doesn't get nearly the attention other pop stars do. And I hate to pigeonhole her as a "pop" star, given the negative connotations that come with the word, pop: light, unsophisticated, disposable music. Robyn has always been smarted than that.

"Who's That Girl?" (which you can watch here as the embedding has been disabled) borrows a title from both Madonna and Annie Lennox, but the similarities end there. Robyn's "Who's That Girl" is a third-wave feminist anthem of sorts for women raised on the media's idea of airbrushed perfection, the "bad girl/good girl" dichotomy, and how impossible it is to live up to those standards: be sexy, but not sexual; don't complain too much; and above all don't show any signs of resentment toward society for forcing its unrealistic standards:

Good girls are pretty like all the time 

I'm just pretty some of the time 

Good girls are happy and satisfied 

I won't stop asking until I die 

Good girls don't say no or ask you why 

I won't let you love me until you really try 

Good girls are sexy like everyday 

I'm only sexy when I say it's okay

The overall message is a bit "hit-you-over-the-head" obvious, and granted, it's coming from a woman who's fairly privileged herself -- conventionally attractive, young, white, cisgendered. What's great is that this is a mainstream pop song that basically updates the "girl power" trope of the 90s making it something smarter, naughtier (draw your own conclusions about the line that says "you be the girl and I'll be the guy") and less treacly.

Break It Down: Ballad of Bitter Honey

Eef Barzelay's "Ballad of Bitter Honey," a bittersweet song about a dancer in hip-hip videos, isn't particularly well-known, but raises a few needed questions about race and narrative.

First off, I like this song. Its subject isn't one that's exactly heard from in pop (even quirky indie pop) music; however, hearing to a white man narrating the experience of a (presumably) WOC, and one decidedly less privileged than he is, makes me uncomfortable.

This dovetails nicely with the Fugazi post I wrote about a week ago, because as a music fan, I abhor censorship in any form, but as a feminist, I don't think everything should be there for the taking, especially the experiences of marginalized groups.

I tried in vain to find this song's backstory, so I have no idea if there's a real person behind the lyrics. Despite the nuance -- and I do think it's lyrically well-written -- it begs the question, "When is it appropriation, and when is it just a good story to tell?"

Break It Down: Sheela-Na-Gig

I wanted to do a series of short posts on popular songs that explore gender roles after I realized I had quite a few on my iPod, but I struggled with what to call it. Feminist classics seems a little reductive, and for myriad and often valid, not every woman identifies as a feminist. To label those songs as such reeks of a sort of ownership I'm not entirely comfortable with. (Plus the label "feminist" is becoming less and less meaningful to me as I get older, even though I still call myself one.)



So "break it down" it is, as I tend to do a bit of deconstructing. (Or until I figure out whom I stole it from.)

When I think of songs that really get to the meat (pardon the pun) of male/female relations, PJ Harvey's "Sheela-Na-Gig" tops my list. It was one of the first songs that made me step back and listen to words, and one of the few that made me a little afraid of what I was listening to. In his book, The Sex Revolts, Simon Reynold's says:

"Sheela-Na-Gig" turns around the gap between woman as ethereal icon and the fleshy reality of female physiology. The sheela-na-gig is a startling image, if you've ever seen one -- it's a Celtic fertility icon, a statue of a bulky, squatting woman pulling apart her vagina for all to see. In the verses, Harvey flaunts her "child-bearing hips," only to be rebuffed by the chorus, where she plays the part of a contemptuous or scandalized male: "You exhibitionist!"While icons of the Female Absolute from sheela-na-gigs to the Virgin Mary are idealized, flesh-and-blood woman with their periods and smells are deemed dirty.

I agree with this, but I think he's missing the larger point in reclaiming power in the grotesque. Instead of an idealized, plasticized doll, she's flesh-and-blood, reveling in the "grossness" that comes with being a woman, which she "lays down at his feet," only to yank it away and "take these hips to a man that cares." Look at this. You don't want it? Well, you can't have it anyway.

When I was going through songs, I tried to find the most "empowering" while disregarding the male gaze. I couldn't find any. Most themes of female empowerment unfortunately still have a "look at me" quality. This is also disconnect I feel with a lot of sex positive and choice feminists. I fail to see how empowering it is to still be an object of someone's affection. With "Sheela-Na-Gig" at least there's some level of awareness that our choices don't exist in a vacuum.