kinky reggae or reggae queered?

Afrofuturist musical android Janelle Monáe released their latest single “Lipstick Lover” on Thursday, May 11, 2023 and the visuals have many caught in a full-frontal thirst trap. Janelle Monáe is back and her breasts are out.

Yes, for The Age of Pleasure (2023) Janelle Monáe is seen stripped of yesteryear’s tuxedos and, perhaps in a feminist nod to the past, she has shed man’s post-corset torture device AKA the bra (read Sylvia Wynter’s articulations on “man” when I say “man” here).

But, in our increasingly visual culture, it seems that few “Lipstick Lover” consumers are giving much headspace to the sound of this song. And as images and videos of Janelle Monáe continue to surface and titillate and satisfy the image-hungry public, the sound of “Lipstick Lover” seems quieter and quieter. But for me, I can’t not hear it.

For me, I’m struck by its rhythm and can’t help but wonder what does it mean that Janelle Monáe’s “Lipstick Lover” is a full and proper reggae song WHILE ALSO BEING a full and proper song about queer love and queer pleasure?

For decades, Jamaican musical artists have been berated by industry colleagues at the mere accusation of being queer (read Koffee and Shenseea) or queer aligned (read Spice and Pamputtae’s choices to perform at PRIDE Toronto); yet, American artist Janelle Monáe has delivered an undeniably queer reggae song (with the musical support of reggae legend Sly Dunbar, according to the song’s credits) and all anyone can see are bare breasts.

When I hear the song I can’t help but wonder what political statement “Lipstick Lover” could be making by grounding a sexual(ity) liberating song in a Jamaican musical genre.

Jamaica has moved away from Time’s 2006 determination that it is “the most homophobic place on earth,” but day-to-day life for LGBTQI individuals on-island is still a rocky road to travel. This month alone — and at publication we are barely half-way through May — requests for same sex marriage were shot down by the Justice Minister, TOK band members took to social media to express personal beliefs surrounding the 2001-hit “Chi Chi Man,” and the University of the West Indies, Mona Campus saw a gender policy review leaked to the news media and also walked-back by stakeholders because of concerns from conservative Christian staff members. With all this gender and sexuality discussion in our current media-landscape, I can’t help but query the queer aspects of Janelle Monáe’s very on-trend release.

If you can, don’t gaze. Just listen to the song. Listen to the song and when you reach minute 1:25 (of the audio or 1:41 of the video) you’ll hear what signals a direct reference to Mad Cobra’s 1992 hit “Flex”, which is also a signal to what is, arguably, the most homophobic of Jamaica’s songs: Buju Banton’s now banned “Boom Bye Bye” (1992). Is, therefore, “Lipstick Lover” actively and intentionally subverting the staunchly heterosexual and violently anti-non-hetero messages that have been embedded in Jamaican popular music for decades?

I like lipstick on my neck
Leave a sticky hickey in a place I won’t forget
I like lipstick on my neck
Baby, I’m obsessed, get me undressed
I wanna feel your lips on mine
I just wanna feel
A little tongue, we don’t have a long time

(verse 2 of “Lipstick Lover”, my emphasis in italics)

Mad Cobra’s 1992 hit “Flex”

What do we do now? Janelle Monáe made headlines in Jamaica’s news media on May 2 when she attributed her Met Gala fit body to “Jamaican food and good sex.” But where is the local media now that this song has been released? How should we respond to Janelle Monáe’s tropically lush music video that features lots of femmes, femme on femme loving, a few dreadlocked men, and a decidedly reggae-rhythm? What do we as listeners/ viewers do with this entangling of Jamaican sound with queerness in the most unexpected or nontraditional way? Is “Lipstick Lover” queering reggae? Does the silence around the sound of this song act as proof that this is the “kinky reggae” that Marley felt he had to “ride on” from in 1973? Or, still, is this seemingly politically queer reggae meant to open up understandings of love, joy, and pleasure from society’s gender and sexuality rules?

I can’t post the video because its content is age-restricted. But I can share the audio and you can listen and decide for yourself.