(I know that "Uber" should be "Über" but I couldn't make it work in the title field.)
The translation, I think, would be "Songs for Super Pigs." SuperPigs, of course, is the nations premiere SM play party in the country, way down San Diego way. Roadkill, who started the whole deal, is looking for music to play during the monthly festivities. I offered to put some music together, and Roadkill was grateful.
So I set to work, setting up an eclectic mix.
When I met with my Gay Men's SM Spirituality Discussion Group, the group that defies an acronym, I made mention of this after dinner. But, I also revealed that I was breaking The Great Rule of Dungeon Music: no words.
So, everybody in the Gay Men's SM Spirituality Discussion Group said that was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.
The No Words school contends that if there are words, it will distract the bottom from the important business of getting whipped. Or whatever. The Annals of SM (read them yet? slow in parts, but some great stuff there) are full of hair-raising tales of bottoms getting totally out of appropriate headspace and humming along with Nessune Dorma and the like. So, The No Words rule states that it's got to be obscure and purely instrumental. Chanting is okay, as long as it's something atonal.
Okay. I've got a two word rebuttal: Barry White.
Barry White, of course, has provided the soundtrack to more heterosexual couplings than any other artist. And Mr. White is not known for his instrumental work.
See what I'm saying?
Why can't lyrics enhance the experience? Or rather, why can't music with lyrics enhance the experience?
I've selected the songs with care. Going through my library, the question I asked myself was, "Listening to this, would two men fall in love with each other?"
To my mind, that's what SM is all about.
Who knows? It may or may not work. I decided to spring for an iPod Shuffle ($88!) for Roadkill. He can give it a listen, and if he doesn't think it will fly, he can load it up with Messian and Tavener and the like. Or, just listen to it while he's working around the house or whatever, and hopefully enjoy it.
So what do you think? There you are, getting flogged, or fisted, or getting fed piss from the tap, or doing the bootservice thing; or flogging, or fisting, or feeding a hot man your piss right from the tap, and in the background, you hear... say... one of the following...
•"Try Not To Breathe" by REM
•"Under Pressure" by David Bowie with Queen
•"We're Having Much More Fun" by X
•"What A Dog/He's A Tramp" from the Lady And The Tramp soundtrack, sung by Peggy Lee
•"Wagon Wheel" by Old Crow Medicine Show
•"Lost Not Found" by Dirty Vegas
•"Love Rollercoaster" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, from the Beavis And Butthead soundtrack
•"Lust For Love" by Iggy Pop
•"Love My Way" by the Psychedelic Furs
•"Mr. Big Stuff" by Jean Knight
•"More Than Love" by Los Lonely Boys
•"One Big Love" by Emmylou Harris
•"Presence Of The Lord" by Blind Faith
•"Only Love Can Break Your Heart" by Neil Young
•"Sodomy" from the Hair soundtrack album
•"Stand By Your Man" by Lyle Lovett
•"See A Little Light" by Bob Mould
•"The Boys Are Back In Town" by Thin Lizzy
•"The Look Of Love" by Dusty Springfield
•"We Are All Made Of Stars" by Moby
•"Tough Guy" by the Crystal Method
So. What happens?
Are you blown out of the water? "Excuse me, Sir? Let's dance!" All kinda wrecked? Thinking of that guy you dated in college when the two of you fell asleep listening to his OMD album and then the bastard dropped you for his Anthropology T.A.?
Or do the music and the man and the flogging/fisting/watersports combine and make the experience all the richer?
And years from now, when you're driving home from work and the radio plays That Song, are you transported back to that night at SuperPigs, and your breathing gets heavy, and it's like you can smell the guy's scent. And you wonder whatever happened to him, and that night, when you get home, you track down the guys number, give him a call, catch up, he's happy to hear from you, but asks, 'So what made you call after all this time?" and so you sing a little bit of That Song, and he's all like, "Oh Man! Was that an amazing night or what?"
That's the way my mind works anyway.
How about your mind?
But I have no great hopes. I could see Roadkill giving it a try, and in tweny minutes, guys are running upstairs and they're like, "Yo! What the hell is up with that music?" and so it's back to Enigma or Buttboy or whatever (Eh! Philistines.)
Regardless of the outcome, I'm sure havin fun!