TMI: FIVE AWFUL ‘80s SONGS ABOUT SEX


Rock n’ roll, by its very and original definition, is most often about sex: romance, longing, lust, attraction, all that messy wonderful human emotional junk. It’s possible that Pachelbel’s Canon in D major or “Old McDonald Had A Farm” were meant to be steamy anthems about sex, but for now let’s just assert that rock music, with its down-home plain-spoken roots in folk, country, and blues traditions, has a decent lock on the category.

But sometimes…sometimes artists are a little too down-home and plain-spoken and we are assaulted by the aural equivalent of a peephole into a seedy motel down by the airport access road. Honestly, some folks should just keep the lights off, if you dig my meaning. TOO MUCH INFORMATION. If your song can make ME cringe…I dunno, man…I dunno.

I’m just going to pick five songs that are coming to mind right away from another crappy decade, the 1980s. I think all of these were released prior to the general understanding that AIDS is for everyone. Maybe go and put on a hazmat suit before you view these videos. Hetero and homo shall be equal-opportunity offenders.

She Bop” – Cyndi Lauper

I cannot for the life of me figure out why anyone would enjoy the idea of a pudgy-faced screech-voiced New Yorker masturbating. It’s not gonna look good, and it’s not gonna sound good.


Relax” – Frankie Goes To Hollywood

Sirs, I realize your admonitions against premature ejaculation are not directed towards me. Yet when this song became a massive worldwide hit, I still was forced to listen to it in elevators, in restaurants with my mother, and at the mall buying shoes. Please deal with your boner problems elsewhere.


Small Town Boy” – Bronski Beat

Homophobia is no laughing matter, and no one should be bullied for their natural sexual identities. But when you have an unfortunate countenance and sing like a castrated goat sucking helium, well…I don’t know that it’s always going to go well.


Hungry Like The Wolf” – Duran Duran

“Mouth is alive, juices like wine…” If you really do smell like you sound, open a damn window, Mr. Sommelier. Ewww.


And finally, the one I hate the most…

Sex (I’m A…)” – Berlin

If only this had been done by Weird Al, but no. This vile male-female duet is so over-the-top trying to be edgy and blatantly sexual it comes off as parody. “I’M A MAN!” repeated over and over doesn’t make it so, goofball. Look at that hair, anyway.