Song Of The Day 5/25/2016: Tommy Seebach – “Bubble Sex”

Moog In Vogue – Sorry to keep it on the sex tip for the second day in a row, for those of you with extra latches and fasteners on your apparel. If you aren't so prudish, happy to oblige as always. Tommy Seebach (1949-2003) was a Danish maestro in a persistent state of magnanimity towards the world at large. I haven't seen a picture of him yet where he's not smiling. The guy flashed his pearly whites more than a sausage industry lobbyist at Oktoberfest. And why shouldn't he have been happy? He remains in the parthenon of the Eurovision Song Contest, having had his trilling pop blasts compete no less than seven times (with, unfortunately, no wins). He recorded at least the third most successful version of the breakbeat classic "Apache" and contributed nearly as much to the aesthetic of Eurodisco as Giorgio Moroder. And that smile. That un-ironic, smørrebrød-eating grin. It's the Copenhagen welcome sign. I would feel very safe next to this guy on a transatlantic flight, though not on the bus.

"Bubble Sex" is yet another exhibition of female grunting over electronic musical accompaniment, though it's shorter than yesterday's relative marathon by Mort Garson by more than half. Nothing you haven't already heard Moroder do with more impact on Daft Punk's psyche, but a reasonable jam nonetheless. The lady on squeal detail is a little less prominent and on-task as yesterday, but geez, you can't do it for fourteen minutes all the time, can you? You gotta eat and watch TV too, you know.

What exactly "Bubble Sex" is is never explained directly, though it appears to be a water-based activity judging from the sound effects. I had visions of it taking place on bubble wrap or some spherical, translucent inflatable items. I even briefly pictured that old TV movie with John Travolta, The Boy In the Plastic Bubble, where he played a teenager with a crap immune system that kept him quarantined 24/7 until he triumphantly breaks free in the end. Soap bubbles, interestingly, never entered my mind; nor did bubblegum. But no matter, because the fashion of the bubble metaphor is revealed via two brief swatches of audio gurgling, which connotes either boiling pasta water or a bong hit. Whichever makes you feel more romantic.