Felicity Ward: Dear Reputable Music Magazine Editor
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Felicity Ward: Dear Reputable Music Magazine Editor

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Here are the problems with that particular scenario:

Number 1) I don’t have a business card.


Number 2) That is sexual assault.


Number 3) I don’t even know this guy; what if he has lip herpes.


Number 4) How do I know there’s a wall there if it’s a hypothetical situation?


And the list goes on. There is music that exists that deludes me into thinking with all the sexual confidence of a porn star or a dog. Think about it: dogs are pretty sexually confident. They go up to a stranger’s arse, give it a sniff, decide whether it’s something they want, jump on & hump on. I’m not into it, I just respect it. Anyway, that’s beside the point.

Here’s what I mean. On one occasion I remember getting ready for work. Now if I had no music playing at the time, I may have left the house fully dressed. But…because I had the Pixies’ Tame blaring in my ears, I left the house wearing nothing but heels, thick stockings and a “long enough” business shirt a la Carrie Bradshaw. It wasn’t until I was half way through my gig that I had to say the words, “You’re right, sir, I’m not wearing any pants” before I understood that this wasn’t the time, nor the place for a high stage, low-set audience and no protective measure between us.

These songs make me think that I should whisper to a guy “I fold up like a cardboard box?” That doesn’t make me sound sexy; it makes me sound disabled. And if you’re still wondering: yes, I slept alone those nights.

Bands need to tone it back. When I listen to the Black Keys, I’m not sure I’m not pregnant afterwards; that’s how sexy it is. Once I thought my imaginary baby was kicking-turns out it was doing the Hustle: even it couldn’t fight the funk.

And this is very different to music that makes you feel in love.

No. This is music that takes a little friend called Sexual Insecurity and gives it a line of cocaine, a push up bra and a finger in the arse.

And it is doing damage to thousands of mediocre people that could otherwise be setting their sexual bar at a realistic level. There is a statistic, that I have made up, whereby the music of Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings increases sexual hubris and proportionate amounts of disappointment by 67%. That is devastating, mostly because of its scientific inaccuracy.

This is a pandemic that needs an antibiotic and Dr. Ward is prescribing three days of Joni Mitchell and a turtleneck.

We say no to you, we say no to cock rock & we say no to Best Bonk Songs Of All Time Compilation albums.

Yours Sincerely,

Felicity Ward