Hear me out: Listening to Erykah Badu makes me orgasm

“I felt like a curvy, delicious goddess, bursting out of an orchid and into the world as a sex icon.”

Laura Roscioli is a sex writer based in Melbourne. She feels passionately about making sex (and the conversations around it) more accessible, approachable and open. She also believes that the best learnings come from lived experience, and she’s here to share hers with you each fortnight on FJ alongside other musings, experiences and questions. You can follow Laura on Instagram at @lauraroscioli.

I got home from a busy day at work and he was already there. He was sitting on my king-sized bed, in my living room-sized bedroom, surrounded by tea light candles he’d lit individually. The room was sparkling. He poured me a glass of wine as I entered the room. Erykah Badu was playing. Ohhhh yes, I thought, we’re going to have some seriously good sex.

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That might be the only time I can recall music playing a part in turning me on. I remember hearing Erykah’s sultry signature voice and feeling my body melt like butter. He slowly started to undress me and coconut oil appeared out of nowhere. Then it was on my back. I leant in. It felt right, with the mood, the candles, the wine and my already sexy thoughts. I wondered if music always had this effect during sex, and I’d just never noticed it before. Or perhaps I was finally relaxing into believing in romance again. 

Ever since I had sex for the first time at 19, I’ve always cringed at performative displays of romance. I had my heart broken as a very young, very hopeful romantic and there was no coming back for me. I’d lost my faith in boys saying ‘I love you’ and meaning it. I’d lost faith in the romantic gestures you see in books and movies — roses, chocolate, sexy music — because anyone could do those. All my relationships had continued to prove me right; that old-school romantic gestures don’t really exist in real modern relationships. 

But at this particular stage of my life, in this tea light candle-illuminated room, I’d turned over a new leaf. I’d just broken up with a long term boyfriend and decided maybe proper romance did exist, I just had to settle for no less. This man, who I dated for three wild months, brought the romance back into my life with a vengeance. And I discovered I loved them.

So, maybe that’s why the music on this particular occasion got to me in such a sexy manner. I felt him undress my oily skin to Erykah Badu and I felt like a curvy, delicious goddess, bursting out of an orchid and into the world as a sex icon. Was my skin softer than usual?

I asked my 7,154 followers on Instagram and 62 per cent of them say music makes them horny, but it has to be a specific type of music. Everyone is different. Researchers suggest that people’s music taste is based on their feelings and they choose music they can associate with the feelings they want to replicate. Like, our brain can somehow remember the feeling of being horny and what — if any — music was playing. So, we’ll always go back to that.

Given this, Erykah Badu turning me on makes sense. My first ever boyfriend — who I was desperately in love with — was a musician and always had music playing in the background of every occasion, hangout and therefore, sexy time. His playlist was a rotation of John Mayer, Frank Sinatra, Sticky Fingers, Lauryn Hill and Erykah Badu. And we had a lot of sex. Now I think about it, if I’m ever in the mood for ‘sexy’ music, even if I’m just cooking dinner or cleaning the house, my go-to is one of the artists on my first boyfriends’ playlist — or something else in a similar genre.

So this guy, who chose Erykah for a candle-lit sex session; struck gold. He made a lucky guess she would get me in the mood, and based on some of my past sexy associations with her music — she did. 

But I haven’t really felt that impacted by music during sex since. I sit in the 25 percent of my Instagram followers who “can go without” music and get horny in other ways. Some feel like they don’t need it because “it’s too distracting,” or “it can be kind of corny”, while others just feel like “it doesn’t make any difference” to their experience. I think this is my experience, too. 

However, quite a few of my friends say it can “serve as good foreplay”, like my friend Tess, who uses music to dictate the mood, especially if she’s in the mood for role play; but even when she’s alone.

“If I don’t know someone so well or need to decide where my headspace is going to be, music is the best way to set the tone and intention,” she tells me. 

“I can either choose what I’m feeling to dictate where it’s going, how intense it’s going to be, how I feel about myself, what I want the lighting to be doing, you know. Or I can decide on the mood I want beforehand, pick the right music for the vibe and I find it takes you on the ride effortlessly.”

Whether it’s something you have to grow up with or are naturally attracted to, she’s not sure, but growing up, she was always surrounded by music. “It’s when I feel my most attractive, powerful and loving, it enhances everything I’m already feeling. I’m sure it has something to do with megahertz and beats, because it’s a bodily experience. Even when I’m alone, watching something stimulating or accidentally [when I’m] in public and have been standing next to the speaker for too long, my body is buzzing… music just always seems to be foreplay for me.”

Science backs this up. A team of neuroscientists ran a study showing music’s connection to dopamine release in the brain. When music starts to build to the climax (your favourite part of the song, often the loudest bit or bass drop) dopamine pours into one part of the brain. Then, when the musical climax arrives, it triggers an emotional reaction in another part of the brain. This might result in ‘the chills’, also known as a ‘skin orgasm’, which is an overwhelming pleasure experience for the body. It’s literally a kind of orgasm, your body releasing its satisfaction for the moment of climax and how it makes your body feel.

Tess isn’t a stranger to this feeling. Sometimes, it’s what she’s aiming for. 

“It’s more of a rush from the chest and back of the head down the limbs, mostly when it’s bass heavy,” she explains, “Or a prickling on the face and chest/shoulders when it’s the lyrics.” 

“Your body becomes this chaotic connection. It makes you aware of the yearning that exists in your body. It shows you what you’re feeling, without you having to say it.”

Tess creates different playlists every month, according to her moods. They’re titled things like ‘November kissing.’ and ‘Hair flicks and skirt hitch’. And although she’s “different every time”, they’re full of dancehall, blues, underground ’90s hip hop, Cuban salsa and R&B.

I’m inspired by her connection to music and how much she feels it connects her to herself. Maybe that’s the key — whatever connects you to your body, your internal flora and feelings, that’s what holds the power to unlock your horniness and get you ‘in the mood’.

*quietly prepares playlist for next sexual encounter*

For more about the link between sex and music, try this.