Naked Music Monday

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Stripper Music Monday: Live Band Edition

Bands play at Crazy Girls in L.A., where "Girls Girls Girls" was filmed

Alt-weeklies are always willing to run a strip club feature, using this reliably entertaining subject matter as clickbait. They’ll do stories about labor issues, the food they serve, current legal challenges, and the music they play (yes, that’s me). This year, a couple of alt-weekly strip club stories stuck with me for covering a phenomenon I haven’t personally encountered: Strip clubs serving as live music venues in Miami and Los Angeles.

In the days of Gypsy Rose Lee, striptease was backed by a live band because it was a theatrical performance. Burlesque houses had a house band, not a DJ, to supply the music. As burlesque turned to stripping and theaters to clubs, DJs and jukeboxes became the soundtrack of striptease. It’s a simpler, cheaper way to supply music for a constant parade of dancers on multiple stages.

Stripper Music Monday: Kate Hate

Philly is a weird place to work, especially my club. We get a huge range of customers—blue collar workers, frat dudes, white collar dudes on their way home from work. Old dudes, young dudes. Dudes of every color. So the girls have to keep up with the general population of the customers when it comes to playing music. We have a lot of freedom when it comes to picking our songs, but every so often the DJ will veto us if he thinks the music is inappropriate for the crowd (He once vetoed “Monster” by Kanye West because of the Rick Ross verse where he says “fat motherfucker” then the n-word drops a million times). I have a pretty eclectic playlist, but I will take you through a typical weeknight shift for me.

The Greatest Strip Club Song Of All Time: Sweet Sixteen

stripperballWe’re down to the regional finalists in our contest to determine The Greatest Strip Club Song Of All Time! Congratulations to the top four in each region, and good luck! Here is the complete bracket and here is a Spotify playlist of the remaining sixteen contestants.

The Hip Hop/R&B region has played out in surprising fashion, with three double-digit seeds moving into the Sweet Sixteen. Unsurprisingly, “Pony” continues its domination of the field, next facing Khia’s ode to cunnilingus, “My Neck, My Back,” fresh off a decisive pounding of “Perfect Gentleman.” Telling a dude to go down  >  Captain

Naked Music Monday: Prince

Prince centerfold calendar spread from Creem Magazine
Prince was a centerfold; scan from Creem Magazine, June 1985

A game I like to play with my stripper friends sometimes is one where we pick our desert island strip club musicians: If you could only have five artists to dance to, ever, in the club, who would they be? The one artist that’s on everyone’s list is Prince.

There is no other catalog of music that has a broader application for strippers. Working in a club that banned hip-hop? Working in a hip hop club but feel like you can’t pull it off? DJ who doesn’t understand your requests? “Only top 40” rule? Old crowd? Young crowd? Prince has it covered like no other. And like Josephine said to me the other day, “Literally the worst pole dancer cannot screw up ‘Darling Nikki.'” When I was a baby stripper, dancing to Prince was how I learned to dance sexy on stage. “What would Prince do?” I thought, and then I humped the floor, and made more stage tips.

Stripper Music Monday: “Kisses Down Low” And The Holy Trinity of Cunnilingus Songs

Kelly didn’t get to sing this during the Super Bowl. Her songs are much, much dirtier than Beyoncé and Destiny’s Child, and “Kisses Down Low” is Rowland’s entry into one of the best types of sex songs: Lyrics About Eating Pussy As Sung By Women. Just last night I had to hear yet another customer talk about how he just loooooved to eat pussy, and how he was soooo good at it, I’d pay him *eyes actually leave sockets as muscles fail to stop their rolling.* While, when done right, it’s great, listening to those proclamations makes me wonder why there aren’t corresponding “stop fucking eating my pussy, you are so horrible at it it seems you have mistaken my vulva for corn on the cob and it feels so disgusting that I am nauseated” songs is beyond me and an inaccurate reflection of women’s sexual experience. It’s much more fun to hear a woman tell a man what she wants and how he’d better do it, and these three songs are solid, played-until-the-end-of-time strip club standards.