Honey Mag

Aural pleasure is sensing your emotions ignore restraint and melt into a chord. It’s hearing an Einstein sixteen and feeling your brow wrinkle like a three-hour soak. It’s a verse that tempts your tears or woos your hips. The rhythms we want when tonguing a crush, pulling a friend’s palm to the dance floor, warming heartache, trashing a sour love, throwing a middle finger to the world … embracing the world. It’s good fucking music, literally and sentimentally.

Peep Honey’s weekly five-track play list and start lusting hard. After all, who can resist great aural?

Electrik Red — “I’m That Chick”
Last year, we thought a band of gorgeous, sailor-lipped singers working under the eye and ear of The-Dream was the best idea we’d heard since the Spice Girls. Terius Nash reincarnated into a bad bitch quartet? Our answer: hells motherfreaking yeah. But apparently were were one of few to share the same sentiments when it came to the record store register. But alas, the feisty foursome are back for a reintroduction, with a sassy, sorority-lite anthem for aural support.
Listen while: hoping Def Jam lends the girls a bit of promo

Fat Joe ft. Young Jeezy — “Slow Down (Ha Ha)”
Stitch the right length of soul with the perfect amount of street shit and even Joey Crack can have himself a sustainable hit.
Listen while: wondering if Joey’s joint is good enough to make Remy sway.

Ludacris ft. Nicki Minaj — “My Chick Bad”
A standout, though unsurprising balls ‘n boobs pairing from Luda’s coming Battle of the Sexes. Sir Bridges does his usual best, slobbering all over a glowering bass, while Nicki proves to be everything opposite the good girl.
Listen while: hoping Nick’s working just as hard on her own album as she is on others.

Erykah Badu — “Window Seat”
Dreamy and sensual, the first single off Badu’s sixth album, New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh), makes noon feel like midnight.
Listen while: reaching for some incense and a match.

The-Dream ft. Ciara — “How Low (Remix)”
It’s only a matter of time before all of Atlanta starts humping Luda’s limbo anthem. We’re not mad at it anything that makes Ciara channel herself circa 2005.
Listen while: remembering how much you dig the old Ciara better than the lace-front one.