“Pussy gonna leave em seasick…”
The unhinging sexual energy of Teyana Taylor’s “Hurry”
There are people in the world who swear that the brain is the world’s most sexual organ. These people are speaking the truth. More intriguingly, it’s in how the how the brain controls motor skills where the most potent human sexual energy exists. Even deeper, as a fine modern example, the energy that emanates from Teyana Taylor’s “Hurry” may be the greatest showcase of the potential for the sexual energy of human beings to reverberate in a way that impressively supersedes gender, sex, and desire. The song interlocks all who listen — and desire a safe, sane, and consensual sexual psychological and physical space — into a magical sexual OODA-style loop. The song’s sole purpose it would seem is to allow the listeners to observe and orient themselves with Mrs. Taylor’s showcased divine feminine energy and then be willed into deciding to act upon its invitation to ethereal intercourse.
One of the most fascinating parts of leading a gender-neutral existence — but being born only with a cisgendered male reproductive organ — is that though I fall on the side of favoring my anus to my penis as my preferred pleasure receiver, it’s quite literally impossible that I’d ever organically achieve being wet enough with orgasmic desire to have a pussy that could ever leave someone sexually engaging with it “seasick” insofar as metaphorically “drowning from a turbulent ride in my juices.” But, insofar as maybe achieving making someone riding my ass “seasick” from feeling the rhythm and style with which my hips and ass move after a cock smacks into my prostate and dislodges it from the torpor of moving in a fashion related to my genetic masculinity, that I know EVERYTHING about. Rare is there a song in the world that will cause my entire body to stiffen in shock because the things I typically do in the literal and metaphysical darkness are exposed in the light of real-time day. But, upon hearing the Kanye West-orchestrated and Teyana Taylor executed track “Hurry,” I stiffened, flushed, and felt my whole body exhale with a feeling comparable to total orgasmic bliss.
How a song achieves this revolves around history and science. It ties itself first into rhythms and blues music’s best place of birth being when Ray Charles commingled the call and response of the Black church’s gospel songs with rollicking rhythm and blues on 1959’s “What I’d Say.” Then, because it samples the hyper-radicalized panracial polyglot that is the sound of Sly and the Family Stone’s Small Talk album track “Can’t Strain My Brain” from 1974, “Hurry’s” bassline invites in R & B’s darkest and most delirious sex funk intonations that move the butt and in relation, remove all other concerns from the conversation.
Then, there’s the song’s composition in the key of G major, which in the Baroque era was known as “The Key of Benediction.” Benediction, in Christian religious services, is defined as is a short invocation for divine help, blessing, and guidance, usually at the end of worship service. As well, there are the beats per minute of the song, which is 81. This means that it’s literally moving at the exact same pace as the average human heart rate. Thus, when Kanye West is portraying a lovelorn third-person lothario and Mrs. Taylor is a cooing lover, there’s a primal, wholly sexual invocation of the literal definition of the “divine” feminine at play. No wonder it bowled me over as it did.
I have yet to fuck to this song, which is probably one of my top five deepest sexual regrets of 2018. It’s a master class in sexual expression. The fact that it takes one one minute and 50 seconds of the song’s two minute and 54 second run time for Taylor to imitate achieving her own orgasm says everything. There’s still a whole minute left. But, the song is so well constructed that it’s set two human forms ablaze in passion so well that even watching the embers smolder is more than sexually rapturous enough.
