Hey folks, how’s it hangin’? My name’s Seven and this is my blog. I’m a lusty lounge lizard who stalks the neon-lit sois of the red-light districts here in Bangkok (mostly Patpong). As a music lover and child of the 80s, I never leave the house without my iPod, and I listen to it religiously—even in the gogo bars. And lately, I’ve stumbled on a curiosity: the songs of my youth often perfectly describe the current aspects of my life in 2020 Thailand. By some synchronicity, the music I’ve listened to for decades has taken on new relevance here and now. Allow me to elaborate with a list of songs currently in my playlist along with their newfound meaning to this Bangkok whoremonger:
“Rent” by the Pet Shop Boys perfectly sums up my relationship with my harem. Each one of them could veritably quote the song lyrics in a speech to me: “Look at the two of us in sympathy, sometimes ecstasy. Words mean so little and money less when you’re lying next to me. We never ever argue, we never calculate the currency we’ve spent. I love you—you pay my rent.”
“So in Love” by Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark is an accurate description of how I feel now about all my farang ex-girlfriends. “I was so impressed by you. I was running blind. I would fall for every trick, every twist of mind….it’s hard to believe I was so in love with you.”
“Waiting in Vain” by Bob Marley spells out what runs through my mind every time I see a new hot girl in the gogo: “From the very first time I rest my eyes on you girl, my heart said follow through. But I know now that I’m way down on your line, but the waiting feeling’s fine. So don’t treat me like a puppet on a string, cos I know how to do my thing. Don’t talk to me as if you think I’m dumb. I wanna know when you’re gonna come…”
“Strip” by Adam Ant is the song that should be playing every time one of my girls walks through my front door. “It’s at times like this, great heaven knows, that we wish we had not so many clothes. So let’s loosen up with a playful tease, like all others did through the centuries. Don’t freeze up girl, you’re looking quite a sight. Be generous—I want it all tonight.”
“Sex” by Berlin is the exact dialogue my harem girls and I would say to each other during coitus if we actually talked while doing the deed: “I’m a man,” “I’m a bitch,” “I’m a man,” “I’m a geisha,” “I’m a man,” “I’m a drug,” “I’m a man,” “I’m teaser,” “I’m a man,” “Am I bi?” “I’m a man,” “I’m a little girl.”
“Destination Unknown” by Missing Persons is what should be blasting in my headphones every time I turn the corner from Silom Road onto Patpong: “Life is so strange when you don’t know how you can tell where you’re going to. You can’t be sure of any situation. Something could change, and then you won’t know…I have nowhere to go. I don’t know what to do. And I don’t even know the time of day. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“What’s Love Got to Do With It?” by Tina Turner is the question I ask every time one of my girls says she loves me and asks to be my girlfriend. “What’s love, but a second-hand emotion? Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?”
“Private Dancer” by Tina Turner describes the girls in my harem who’ve left the pole for mainstream lives but still come over to my place once a week: “I’m your private dancer, dancer for money, do what you want me to do.”
“Tiny Dancer” by Elton John is what I hear every time Ice—one of my harem—takes off her clothes and climbs into my bed.
“Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats is what I want to tell the hot one when a group of girls comes to apply for work in the gogo, and the ugly ones show reluctance. “You can dance if you want to, you can leave your (ugly) friends behind.”
“Goody Two Shoes” by Adam Ant is what I want to say every time a gogo dancer orders orange juice instead of tequila. “Don’t drink, don’t smoke. What do you do? Subtle innuendos follow, must be something inside.”
“Who Can it Be Now?” by Men at Work is what goes through my head when a drunk gogo dancer shows up at my place unannounced at 3 am: “All I wish is to be alone. Stay away, don’t you invade my home…”
“Brand New Lover” by Dead or Alive conveys the feeling I get at the end of every month after banging the same six girls four weeks in a row: “My other loves will tell you that I’m nothing but a pleasure seeker, and for once I really must agree. I need to leave you by yourself and go in search of someone else to satisfy my curiosity…What I really need to do is find myself a brand new lover, somebody who’ll lie with me, who doesn’t notice all the others…”
“Instant Pleasure” by Rufus Wainwright is my constant inner monologue: “I don’t want nobody to love me, just give me sex whenever I want it. Cause all I ask for is instant pleasure.”
“Make a Circuit with Me” by the Polecats is my opening pitch to a prospective new harem girl: “Sweet romance is not for me, I need electricity. Just plug in and go go go, I’ll be your human dynamo. Signals in my power cord, impulse on my circuit board. I’m an AC/DC man, you can read my circuit diagram, I feed on electric jolts. I need 50,000 volts. I’ll be your diode, cathode, electro overload, generator, oscillator—make a circuit with me.”
“Would I Lie to You?” by Eurhythmics is my 2nd sales pitch to said prospective new harem girl to try to get her to come over. “Would I lie to you? Would I lie to you honey? Now would I say something that wasn’t true? I’m asking you sugar, would I lie to you?”
“Compulsion” by Martin Gore is my exit pitch for the one-off girl after banging her: “Got to move on sometime and it’s about time, by putting one foot in front of the other and repeating the process, cross over the street. You’re free to change your mind. Strength through diversity. Couldn’t have put it more plainly.”
“I Want You Now” by Depeche Mode describes those rare times, once every couple of years or so, when I actually barfine: “I want you now. Tomorrow won’t do. There’s a yearning inside and it’s showing through. Reach out your hand and accept my love. We’ve waited for too long, enough is enough.”
“Karma Chameleon” by Culture Club is a perfect ode to my whole harem: “I’m a man without conviction. I’m a man who doesn’t know how to sell the contradiction. You come and go.”
“Low Life” by the Police seems like Sting wrote it specifically about Patpong: “Fatal fascination for the seedy part of town. Walk down the street and your head spins round…don’t have to be born into this society. Pay for love but the hate comes free. Bring enough money for the rest of your life, but don’t bring your wife…”
“Coming Back to You” by Leonard Cohen describes my feeling when one of my harem gets barfined by some other bloke: “There are many in your life and many still to be. Since you are a shining light, there’s many that you’ll see. But I have to deal with envy when you choose the precious few who’ve left their pride on the other side of coming back to you.”
“Light as the Breeze” by Leonard Cohen tells the story of all the girls at King’s 1 who I want to bang but can’t because Praew has selfishly claimed me for herself in that bar. “She dances so graceful and her heart’s hard and hateful, and she’s naked, but that’s just a tease.”
“Tempted” by Squeeze goes through my head when one of my regular harem is smiling at me from the gogo stage and her friend who is behind her starts giving me the eye.
“See You” and “Just Can’t Get Enough” by Depeche Mode lay out my sentiments and emotional state when walking into the gogo after skipping a night on Patpong.
“Bob’s Yer Uncle” by Happy Mondays is the first song in the playlist I put on every time I bang a girl in my apartment.
“De Do Do Do De Da Da Da” by the Police translates to what I want to say every time one of my harem talks at me too much and too fast in Thai.
“Master and Servant” by Depeche Mode is what I think of when a new girl notices the wrist and ankle straps on my bed.
“All You Ever Think About is Sex” by Sparks came to mind that one time I took a gogo dancer to see a movie at Terminal 21.
The first line of “Brian Wilson Said” by Tears for Fears is what I sing to myself every day. It describes me perfectly: “My life, nothing was easy till now.”
I could go on, but this list is getting out of hand. You get my point. Maybe it’s a Jungian puzzle to unravel, but the music that shaped my young life now has renewed meaning in Thailand. Until next time, friends—keep your balls warm, your beer cold, and if you’re an expat gogo rat like me, here’s to us and the soundtrack of our red-light lives. Cheers.