Drip is a song about sex. It's a song about sex being messy, and feeling weird because of my needs. It's a song about needing closeness and intimacy. It's a song about enjoying the messiness and goo.
This song has actually been through a lot of versions!!
I initially wrote this song completely without an instrument, lying in bed, and added the chords later. The first version of the song you can listen to below is a cappella.
When I sat down to record it, I created the second version you can listen to below. The rhythm of the verse is a little different, there are slightly different drums (Logic drummer without many edits), and there is quite a bit more vocoder happening. Listening back, there are aspects I like better about this version. What do you think?
The third version is... wild. There's that synth that is trying to be epic, and some really interestingly placed vocal echos... I have no idea what is going on there to be honest.
The last version is the unmastered mix that ended up as the final version! I edited the rhythm of the vocal melody so it fits with the groove of the bass line a bit better, and added some vocals at the end, and slightly different drum sounds!!
And that is the story of how drip came to be.
Lovely days in my bed
Making love without dreading
Feeling lost in the thread of the motion
Darker days, feeling blue
Getting lost, telling you
Letting go when I know we can work through
We can work through the rush
We can work with the touch
We can learn to let go if it's too much
When you're in love with my type of life
A Martian in the light
You might need an appetite
Baby, let me bite you
Wanna know you'll be there when I trip, trip, trip, trip
Want you right over here when I drip, drip, drip
Dripping all over you
Getting covered in goo
Touching tongues with the sweet residue
Fingers trace silky lines
Interlace yours with mine
Make me feel like I might be your kind
My silky smooth might be strange
My need for touch, a wider range
Sometimes bright, sometimes deep
Sometimes going right to sleep
Sometimes need you there to watch me weep