text by Summer Bowie

Masturbating is a lot like writing a song. I guess sex is in general, but you can’t compose a complete sexual event with another person if you don’t know how to build the structure on your own. 

You want to start out with a strong open. You don’t want to just jump into the chorus with all instruments fired up in full swing. You want to find something minimal and seductive to whet the palette—like the opening bassoon in Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring.” It’s a singular, sumptuous gesture that drips of sex. Be sure to slowly mine that gesture for all it’s worth, check the reaction, and then slowly add each layer of stimulation in an intuitive sort of fashion—teasing in a hook from time to time and then easing back into the groove. Some would describe this as building a wall of sound, and those people tend to make great music, but you don’t want to make music with them.

Each verse is like a miniature orgasm that has its own beginning, middle, and end, only the end is not a real end, because it has to flow seamlessly into a nice chorus. Tempting as it may be in the moment, you don’t want to let it become a full orgasm unless you’re both capable of having/giving multiple, and of upping the ante with each coming verse. This can sometimes be a razor-thin edge, and finding that edge is always a good idea, but you should certainly beware of falling off. Everyone knows when things fell off the edge. That’s what you call a jingle. This can happen both alone or with company. Some jingles are better than others, some are even good, but a jingle is not a song.

The chorus is where you establish the overarching tone and sentiment of the event. It tells you why you even felt compelled to be sexual in the first place. The number of choruses and verses in each song varies, but three seems to be the average. The second or third verse often leads into the bridge. It’s like the hinge to any good scene. We’re mixing metaphors here because it really is all the same. Between two people this can mark a shift of power or control. With one person, it might just be a shift in rhythm, pace, breath. Maybe you’ve been rubbing your clit this whole time and decide to finger yourself a bit. Maybe you’ve been stroking your dick this whole time and decide to finger yourself a bit. Maybe you’ve been laying on your back and you decide to get on all fours. The bridge can lead into another verse, but it’s usually best to jump back into the chorus. This way you can check in with how that bridge changed the overall feel of the chorus. If it’s a good song, it will. 

Finally, you have the end. A great song will take all the building blocks that comprise the song and come full circle in its final verse. It will reach its crescendo like a rollercoaster that builds up slowly and with a suddenly quiet, little rhythm, pulsing and ticking its way up to the top. If it’s a bad or mediocre song, the chorus will just keep repeating itself and slowly fade out. If it’s a good song, that crescendo will suddenly free one from gravity for an extended moment in time and space, and then bring you safely and soundly back to Earth.

The best songs still get recorded on 45s. They’re the ones with an equally strong B side. You can think of that side as the pillow talk. This is why masturbating is never enough on its own. It also explains the phenomenon of the one-hit wonder. The one who comes and goes immediately afterward, never to be heard from again. Most everyone probably has one hit song in them, but you don’t want to invest in making another song with someone who didn’t know how to finish the job. If you ask me, there’s nothing worse than slowly fading out with a repeating chorus. And of course, no hit song is complete without a proper B side. Once you figure out how to properly compose a B side, no one can fault you for the occasional diddy. They even become enjoyable again.