
Singer Cleo Laine, Britain's greatest jazz voice, dies at 97
The Stables, a charity and venue Laine founded with her late jazz musician husband John Dankworth, said it was "greatly saddened" by the news that "one of its founders and Life President, Dame Cleo Laine has passed away".
Monica Ferguson, artistic director of The Stables, said Laine "will be greatly missed, but her unique talent will always be remembered".
Laine's career spanned the Atlantic and crossed genres. She sang the songs of Kurt Weill, Arnold Schoenberg and Robert Schumann; she acted on stage and on film and even played God in a production of Benjamin Britten's Noye's Fludde.
Laine's life and art were intimately bound up with band leader Dankworth, who gave her a job and her stage name in 1951, and married her seven years later. Both were still performing after their 80th birthdays. Dankworth died in 2010 at 82.
ADVERTISEMENT
In 1997, Laine became the first British jazz artist to be made a dame, the female equivalent of a knight.
"It is British jazz that should have received the accolade for its service to me," she said when the honour was announced. "It has given me a wonderful life, a successful career and an opportunity to travel the globe doing what I love to do."
Laine was born Clementina Dinah Campbell in 1927. Her father, Alexander Campbell, was a Jamaican who loved opera and earned money during the Depression as a street singer. Despite hard times, her British mother, Minnie, made sure that her daughter had piano, voice and dance lessons.
She began performing at local events at age 3, and at age 12, she got a role as a movie extra in The Thief of Bagdad. Leaving school at 14, Laine went to work as a hairdresser and faced repeated rejection in her efforts to get a job as a singer.
A decade later, in 1951, she tried out for the Johnny Dankworth Seven, and succeeded. "Clementina Campbell" was judged too long for a marquee, so she became Cleo Laine.
"John said that when he heard me, I didn't sound like anyone else who was singing at the time," Laine once said. "I guess the reason I didn't get the other jobs is that they were looking for a singer who did sound like somebody else."
Laine had a remarkable range, from tenor to contralto, and a sound often described as "smoky".
ADVERTISEMENT
Dankworth, in an interview with the Irish Independent, recalled Laine's audition.
"They were all sitting there with stony faces, so I asked the Scottish trumpet player Jimmy Deuchar, who was looking very glum and was the hardest nut of all, whether he thought she had something. 'Something?' he said, 'She's got everything!'"
Offered 6 pounds a week, Laine demanded — and got — 7 pounds.
"They used to call me 'Scruff', although I don't think I was scruffy. It was just that having come from the sticks, I didn't know how to put things together as well as the other singers of the day," she told the Irish Independent. "And anyway, I didn't have the money, because they weren't paying me enough."
Recognition came swiftly. Laine was runner-up in Melody Maker's "girl singer" category in 1952, and topped the list in 1956 and 1957.
She married Dankworth — and quit his band — in 1958, a year after her divorce from her first husband, George Langridge. As Dankworth's band prospered, Laine began to feel underused.
"I thought, no, I'm not going to just sit on the band and be a singer of songs every now and again when he fancied it. So it was then that I decided I wasn't going to stay with the band and I was going to go off and try to do something solo-wise," she said in a BBC documentary.
ADVERTISEMENT
"When I said I was leaving, he said, 'Will you marry me?' That was a good ploy, wasn't it, huh?"
They were married on March 18, 1958. A son, Alec, was born in 1960, and daughter Jacqueline followed in 1963.
Despite her happy marriage, Laine forged a career independent of Dankworth.
"Whenever anybody starts putting a label on me, I say, 'Oh, no you don't,' and I go and do something different," Laine told The Associated Press in 1985 when she was appearing on stage in New York in "The Mystery of Edwin Drood."
Her stage career began in 1958 when she was invited to join the cast of a West Indian play, Flesh to a Tiger, at the Royal Court Theatre, and was surprised to find herself in the lead role. She won a Moscow Arts Theatre Award for her performance.
Valmouth followed in 1959, The Seven Deadly Sins in 1961, The Trojan Women in 1966 and Hedda Gabler in 1970.
The role of Julie in Jerome Kern's Show Boat in 1971 provided Laine with a show-stopping song, Bill.
ADVERTISEMENT
Laine began winning a following in the United States in 1972 with a concert at the Alice Tully Hall in New York. It wasn't well-attended, but The New York Times gave her a glowing review.
The following year, she and Dankworth drew a sold-out audience at Carnegie Hall, launching a series of popular appearances. Cleo at Carnegie won a Grammy award in 1986, the same year she was a Tony nominee for The Mystery of Edwin Drood.
A reviewer for Variety in 2002 found her voice going strong: "a dark, creamy voice, remarkable range and control from bottomless contralto to a sweet clear soprano. Her perfect pitch and phrasing is always framed with musical imagination and good taste."
Perhaps Laine's most difficult performance of all was on February 6, 2010, at a concert celebrating the 40th anniversary of the concert venue she and Dankworth had founded at their home, during which Laine and both of her children performed.
"I'm terribly sorry that Sir John can't be here today," Laine told the crowd at the end of the show. 'But earlier on my husband died in hospital.'
Laine said in an interview with the Boston Globe in 2003 that the secret of her longevity was that "I was never a complete belter".
"There was always a protective side in me, and an inner voice always said, 'Don't do that — it's not good for you and your voice.'"
ADVERTISEMENT
Laine is survived by her son and daughter.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


NZ Herald
14 hours ago
- NZ Herald
L.A.B., Stan Walker team up for outdoor summer gigs in NZ and Gold Coast
Stan Walker on the red carpet of the Aotearoa Music Awards, where he won Best Māori Artist. Photo / New Zealand Herald photography by Sylvie Whinray For Walker, 'heavy prep', like an Olympic athlete or an All Black might do, is a necessity for lead vocalists preparing to tour, as they have nothing to hide behind on stage. 'We are the only ones that can't just pick up the drumsticks and go hard or start playing the bass or whatever.' Psychologically, Walker has also learned to automatically put up 'walls' to protect himself, his family, and his creative process from 'outside noise'. Sometimes this can get in the way of connecting with an audience, Walker says, but performing in the USA and Hawaii last year, the locals' unguarded enthusiasm was so inspiring he felt the walls came down. Raised on gospel music, Walker especially loves connecting with Black fans and friends in the States. 'They're like, 'man, you need to lead us, brother!' So you get like a fire.' Auckland reggae band Corrella will support Stan Walker and L.A.B. at their Tauranga show. Photo / Supplied Hawaiian music fans, he says, aren't held back by 'tall poppyness' like many New Zealanders. 'They're like, 'I love you. You changed my life. I want to follow you for the rest of my days'.' A Kiwi who recognises him is more likely to say something like 'Yeah, my mum is a fan', Walker says. 'It's really backhanded, and I think it's our like, defence mechanism. We don't want to get rejected or whatever. I get it, but at the same time, it's ugly.' L.A.B. singer Joel Shadbolt 'resonates hard' with Walker's insight on this cultural difference – 'Oh, preach, brother. Holy moly… Don't be a second-hand fan, be first-hand.' His band has also played some amazing shows in the States, he says, and American audiences are a lot more encouraging of guitar solos. L.A.B. singer Joel Shadbolt says American audiences are a lot more into guitar solos than Kiwis. Photo / Alex Cairns 'My roots are blues, so it comes from the south, and I know that feeling, I know that music, it's in me. When I play in the States, I feel that, man. Far out, I feel it. It's magic.' Back home in Aotearoa, Shadbolt and Walker agree Christchurch is one place where people really know how to show appreciation. Although he's had 'some very opposite experiences' offstage in the South Island city, Walker says he's always felt recharged by performing there, which he first did at 16. '[Christchurch audiences] show me why I do what I do, if that makes sense. It's electric.' In the lead-up to an L.A.B. show, the members gather to make sure they're 'on the same kind of buzz', Shadbolt says, and sing a karakia and some harmony-driven songs before hitting the stage. 'We all get locked in, you know?' L.A.B will be performing in Tauranga this summer. Photo / Supplied Artists give so much and love doing it, but they also really need to refuel, Shadbolt says. When he starts feeling like he's living 'in a weird alternate reality', the remedy is going home to visit whānau. 'Hanging out with my Nan is all I need for half an hour.' As a touring vocalist, performing shows back to back, you become hyper-aware of how your body feels, Shadbolt says. Sleep, hydration, nutrition and movement are his 'four pillars'. 'You get those right, and then the voice is magic. Any of those fall down, it's like 'Oooh, should have had a feed' or 'Oooh, ate too much'.' For Walker, it's 'buzzy' that alongside R&B singer Aaradhna, the up-and-coming musician Liam Te Wehi (Te Wehi) is supporting his three shows with L.A.B. this summer. R&B singer Aaradhna will support Stan Walker and L.A.B. at all three of their outdoor summer shows. Photo / Stijl, James Ensing-Trussell Although he's been listening to his music and enjoying his TikTok for ages, the two haven't yet met. 'He looks like my dad, bro!' For Shadbolt, it's really special that pioneering hip-hop group Nesian Mystic are supporting the Stan Walker / L.A.B. show at Auckland's Outer Fields festival on January 31. It's his band's first headlining Auckland gig in over four years, and the first time Nesian Mystic have hit the stage there in about 15 years. 'I listened to some of these songs in the car before, and I was like, 'Man, it's gonna be so nostalgic hanging out and playing their stuff live'. 'We're kind of buzzing for the show up there.'


The Spinoff
14 hours ago
- The Spinoff
Talk dirty to me: inside the fascinating world of audio erotica
More and more of us are tuning into – and getting turned on by – erotic audio apps like Dipsea and Quinn. What's the secret to their success? Recent convert Kate Evans spoke to the people who write, voice, and study it. [A door opens. Heels on the floor. A sleepy moan. A British accent.] 'Hey baby. You have a good time? You can put the light on. It's fine. Ohhh OK. I can see we had a very good time.' Warm laughter. 'God, you look so fucking hot. Yeah, you know I like that outfit. But you must be freezing! I bet you got a lot of looks though. You done some heartbreaking tonight? What time is it? 3 am?! Get into bed, you deviant! Come here. I'll warm you up.' I first learned about the erotic audio app Quinn from Melody Thomas 's brilliant podcast The Good Sex Project – definitely give it listen if you haven't already. I was curious. Practically every night I lull myself to sleep with the Calm app's perfectly boring sleep stories; would horny audio fulfil a different need? I had already tried Dipsea, a similar app marketed as 'spicy audiobooks', but hadn't found the storytelling especially engaging. Quinn, on the other hand, turned me on immediately. Lots of the 'audios' are in second person; a warm-voiced man or woman talking directly to me, the listener. Asking questions, waiting for answers, chuckling at my imagined response. The acting, in general, is much better than I'd expected it to be – more storyful, playful and convincing than any I've encountered even in arty, ethical, visual porn, and definitely better than in romantasy graphic audiobooks. Most of the time, the scenes and characters are thoroughly believable. Cosy soundscapes add to the immersion – and my own imagination supplies the rest. Most are oriented to women, but not all. There are people of various genders speaking to all sorts: men, women and non-binary folk. Some aren't even sexual, mainly kind words of affirmation and encouragement. Others are kinky as fuck, but you're warned about what to expect via the thorough and at times hilarious use of tags. So if you're not into [Butt Stuff] [Degradation] [Breeding] or [Daddy], you might instead choose one labelled [M4F] [Friends] [Romantic] [Adorkable] [Jealousy] [Rain] [Gazebo] [Confession] [Kissing] [Possessive] [Tell Me You Need Me Too] [Finger Sucking] [Fingering] [Check ins] [Eye Contact] [Praise] [Pride & Prejudice Gazebo Scene Vibes] – yes, that's all one story. Or maybe you'd prefer this one, tagged [NB4A] – meaning it's by a non-binary creator for any listener – [For all genders] [WFH] [Partner Experience] [Lunch Break] [Flirty] [Cutie] [Spanking] [Shower Sex] [Quickie] [Sensual] [Fingering] [Moaning] [Oral]. If you're feeling adventurous, on the other hand, you can dip your … toe … into some spicier waters than you're used to, and possibly surprise yourself. There are historical scenarios, where you're seduced in a carriage or ravish the manservant. There are comfy 'boyfriend', 'husband', or 'girlfriend' scenarios, bad boys and lady bosses, and all the tropes common to romance literature – friends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, strangers-to-lovers, infidelity, age differences, office romances… There are bars and flat couches and hotel mix ups (only one bed!) and mad inventors and witchy moonlight gatherings. There are recurring memes and 'Easter eggs' for devoted listeners (like an offstage character referred to as 'Fucking Greg' who pops up in multiple audios) and various accents – but no Kiwi ones that I've found so far (which is possibly for the best?) And there are a handful of flagship, highly-produced, plot-driven, three-part stories that seem tailor-made to draw new listeners to the app. There's a fairy smut one dripping in BookTok references. One's voiced by Katherine Moennig – who, as Shane in The L Word, inspired many a Millennial queer awakening. Another features actor Andrew Scott of Hot-Priest-Fleabag-fame as Robb the Protector, the guard to a despotic queen in a medieval-ish kingdom. 'If I wasn't already listening to Quinn, I would definitely be a subscriber the minute I found that out,' says researcher Athena Bellas, an honorary fellow in the University of Melbourne's School of Culture and Communication. Athena has listened to a lot of erotic audio – 'untold hundreds of hours' – but she has a good excuse: 'It's for research.' [Andrew Scott's Irish accent. The sound of a sword falling on the floor.] 'If we're going to do this I want to do it right. Sit on the throne. Have you forgotten what we used to do in this room? You heard me, sit down. I miss this. I've been thinking about this since I saw you in the market, remembering the nights we spent sneaking in here… Your scent. I need to see you. Open your legs. I have to taste you. Is that all right? Thank you. It's even better than I remember. Better than in my dreams.' Athena and her friend Jodi McAlister, a romance author and romance scholar at Deakin University, are literally writing the book on this stuff – provisionally titled Audio Erotica – and they recently published one of the first ever academic papers about it. Of course this requires a lot of … research. 'Anytime my headphones are in, it's audio erotica,' says Athena. Dipsea (founded in 2018) and Quinn (2019) are the main players, but there are half a dozen others as well. All this research has made Athena and Jodi pretty discerning. 'We're now really alive to the bad ones,' says Jodi. 'You end up with a bit of a hair trigger where you're like, 'Oh, no. Absolutely not.' It's a good way of educating yourself about your own icks.' Some of the audio is just flat out bad, she says. Story matters – at least a bit – and so do production values. 'Athena and I have both got some opinions about some really janky background music in some of them.' Other times, though, they don't see eye-to-eye. Jodi can't stand one particular Quinn creator. 'He says the phrase, 'I know', in a way that I just absolutely hate. Like, 🤢🤮.' There's nothing objectively objectionable about the phrase 'I know,' but it makes Jodi's skin crawl for reasons she can't exactly articulate. 'When he's saying it in my ear I'm just like, take it away!' (She's cringing and wringing her hands as she says this.) 'So Athena has to listen to him for both of us.' 'We've had so many fights about this,' says Athena, 'because he's one of my favourites!' Bickering aside, they do agree that what makes a great erotic audio is a sense of realness, connection and intimacy. The second person point of view can deliver that intimacy, but only if it's done right, Athena says. The script has to be specific enough to be interesting, but generic enough that you're not jolted out of it, thinking I'd never say that, or that's not me. 'Audio erotica trades on a fantasy of authenticity, and if the audio cannot produce that and rings untrue, it's an immediate 'no' for me,' she says. Penning a good erotic audio story is definitely an art, says Holly June Smith, a British romance author who also occasionally writes scripts for Quinn creators – she got into it after writing a novel about a woman who is embarrassed to discover the guy her brother has brought along on a ski holiday is her favourite erotic audio creator. An audio story has to work at multiple levels, Holly says. Firstly, as a narrative with a beginning, middle and end. Then there's crafting the dialogue, which has to make the listener feel like they're part of the story; she was thrilled to hear from some Quinn listeners that they felt so immersed they accidentally responded out loud to a question while on their commute or in the gym. But the most challenging thing to get right is often the pacing. 'Ultimately, what you are creating is a masturbation guide. So it also has to have this pacing that works for the listener. You are taking them on a literal, physical, intimate journey.' Sometimes you just need to let the moaning do the talking. Holly's scripts will frequently say things like: Moaning for approximately thirty seconds. Moaning intensifies. Creators are then free to improvise, and the possibilities are endless. In their academic writing, Athena and Jodi call this kind of thing 'salacious play': 'the minutia of pornographic sound that is made available in close-up through these technologies – one can hear saliva being drawn through teeth, the wet sounds of jerking off –the whoosh of a hefty exhale.' In mainstream visual porn, they write, the 'burden of erotic aural performance' generally falls on female actors: 'the masculine orgasm is seen, while the feminine is heard.' Erotic M4F audio (heterosexual, performed by men) turns this stereotype on its head. 'Oh yeah, it's mostly moans, groans, and f-bombs,' says British Quinn creator John York. 'You're sort of using your breath to guide the pace of the story.' (Quinn have helpfully made an 17-hour+ playlist entitled ' Male Moans '.) John found his way to audio erotica via audiobook narration, although the two media are worlds apart, he says. 'With audiobooks, you're reading a manuscript, you're just performing a part. With the Quinn stuff, it's a lot more personal.' For him, that's meant gravitating to certain types of stories or characters. 'I don't have a super gruff voice or a gritty bad boy personality. I'm not gonna go and, like, decimate somebody and say awful things to them – it just sounds weird coming from me. So I do a lot of friends-to-lovers, boy-next-door stories,' he says. (Side note: There are plenty of other creators who play more in the decimating bad boy genre if you'd rather get off to that – in your mind, if not actually in real life.) 'We really, really deserve this night away – just the two of us. Plus, I've done something incredibly sexy in preparation for tonight. I stopped off at that car place on the way home, and had it… professionally cleaned. I did! There is not a crumb or friendship bracelet or broken crayon in sight.' John writes a lot of his own scripts, but Holly penned these catnip-for-parents lines for him, as part of a series they worked on together called Couples Therapy. 'It's not just 20 minutes of escapism,' says Holly. She and John wanted it to be almost educational – to help couples work through their own issues, and maybe get some ideas. 'This series might just save my marriage,' wrote one commenter. Couples Therapy fits into a genre of erotic audio Athena and Jodi call husband or boyfriend experience – this was the focus of their recent academic paper, 'Let me take care of you: domestic caretaking fantasies in boyfriend experience audio erotica', published in 2023 in Porn Studies (yep, that's a real academic journal.) These are some of the most popular types of audio on both Quinn and Dipsea, they write – erotic fantasies in which a woman, the implied listener, is being taken care of by 'men who take on the burden of domestic labour, and who emotionally comfort and sexually satisfy their partner.' So you have men telling you they've done the dishes, showering you with compliments and love, and delightedly, hungrily going down on you. Here's Athena: 'Boyfriend experience audio, and erotic audio more broadly, is a fantasy world in which women are unburdened from any kind of labour. Labour like taking care of the home, emotional labour, the labour of having to vocally perform [orgasm]. All these things are off her shoulders, and in fact it's the male performer who it all falls on to create this fantasy. That's a very interesting power reversal, and I think that's part of why it's so powerful and so interesting and it feels fresh.' Could this kind of thing perhaps give us unrealistic expectations, I ask? Jodi shoots me down. 'This is something people say about romance fiction all the time. My answer is, I don't care if women have high expectations. That doesn't seem like a them problem. That seems like a men problem.' John also gets asked that question a lot. 'The preconception of what we do is it's some bloke saying how great he is, but it's the complete opposite. It's me holding hands with the listener and we're exploring this together. It's ironic, really, because it's me doing the talking, but the feedback I get is that people feed heard. They feel listened to, and they feel understood.' Masculinity is often characterised as taking, he says – 'but audio erotica is showing that there's something deeply masculine about serving – and I don't think a guy listening to their partner is a high target to hit. I think that should be expected as a human being, as a friend, as a boyfriend, as a partner. It's what we all need and crave and want. So I don't think that's necessarily an unrealistic expectation.' And yet, maybe it's a lot to expect anyone to be enthusiastically, devotedly, moanily horny after picking up the kids and doing the dishes and not wanting any care and appreciation for themselves in return. Will listening to too many of these make me greedy, and expect a lover to compliment me continuously and lyrically for thirty minutes while also somehow using their tongue for other things? This is where we have to give listeners, and ourselves, more credit, says Athena. 'These are fantasies, and I think we're all capable of recognising them as fantasies.' Similarly, she points out, there are plenty of scenarios featured in the app that people might never actually want to do in real life – adultery, for instance, or sex with a stranger, or types of rough sex – but get to explore vicariously and safely via these stories. Arguably, that's the whole point of erotic content. Jodi and Athena quote another academic, Catherine Roach: 'Erotica inhabits the realm of imagination, of exaggeration, of archetype, of fantasy. It explores and plays with possibility.' In other words, while it has to feel authentic, it's not supposed to be realistic. [Seagulls, the creaking of rigging. A deep, female American voice.] 'I saw the way you looked past my crew, and the shift in your eye when you looked at me. I can see what you truly want. Oh, interesting. I think you've never had it. I'll give you what you want. I'll let you taste what you truly desire… …and you are going to say, Yes, Captain. Is that clear?' Erotica in this form is incredibly new – less than a decade old. Even as recently as 2017, cultural theorist Dominic Pettman asked: 'Why does the erotic voice lack 'stickiness' when it comes to the World Wide Web, given the power of the voice to summon seductive ghosts, quicken the heart, and whisper promises of bliss? Why, in other words, are modems awash in pink pixels but not blue bits?' Just eight years later, the sticky blue bits have certainly arrived; so what's changed? Partly, it's that women are talking more openly about sex and desire. 'Romance fiction has always been popular, but for a long time it was something people consumed furtively or secretly,' says Jodi. 'I think some of that culture of shame is changing. There has been a lot more out-and-proud romance consumption in the 21st century.' Fifty Shades of Grey might have kicked things off, she says, and then there's the romantasy book boom on TikTok, and literary novels like Miranda July's All Fours – either way, women who previously would've been embarrassed to do so are now openly consuming smut. But there's something new and experimental and radical about audio erotica in particular, says Athena. 'What's captured me from the very beginning has been a certain intensity that feels very personal – the way it can offer something that feels very alternative to what we are accustomed to receiving in sexually explicit media.' She and Jodi are trying to be cynical academics about it all. They have managed to find some critiques, for instance that some of the apps market themselves as wellness-adjacent, 'like 'Headspace – but horny!'' says Jodi, while 'some are more like 'Duolingo – but horny' … it's like, God, you're making sex such hard work!' Over-emphasising health and education risks making us feel that even while masturbating, we have to be somehow optimising ourselves, Athena says. 'It begins to kind of suggest that we're not allowed to just have smut to get off to.' But it's also true that for many of the people making and listening to this content, erotic audio can be genuinely transformative. When I speak to Holly and John, they've just come from a meetup with other Quinn writers and creators, and are invigoratingly loved-up and excited about the whole thing. Here's John: 'I've only been doing it a year. But meeting other creators who have been doing this for much longer – they've become role models to me. You have these guys who are very masculine, but creative, and they're not afraid to showcase their vulnerable sides. Because the work is so emotional, it needs you to be open with your emotions and in touch with your feelings … and it makes you want to be a better human being. 'I've learned so much about myself from doing this, and I've never felt fulfilment like it. It sort of bulldozed my life, took it over completely, and I feel very grateful for that.' This is a whole new industry that didn't exist a decade ago, Holly points out. The people who make it tend not to be the same people that make other types of pornography, and it allows for a kind of anonymity that's not possible in visual media. 'It's fascinating to think that there are people out there, men and women and nonbinary people too, who may have this skill that they haven't really identified in themselves yet – and that this could also be work that they do.' Maybe that's you, or someone else you know that hasn't yet discovered that audio erotica exists. 'It's actually still very, very niche,' says Holly. 'Most people aren't having day-to-day conversations about sex and desire and masturbation.' Erotic audio can change listeners' lives, too, says Holly – she gets lots of feedback telling her so. Some people come to the app to listen to a certain male creator, and are surprised to discover that they rather like female voices. Others discover kinks they never knew they had. After childbirth, menopause, or divorce, the app can also be a tool for cautiously reconnecting with desire and sexuality – and very often, Holly says, it becomes a Pandora's Box situation (pun partially intended): 'They listen to one or two audios, and then it's like a dam breaking. They're like, oh, no. I need this every minute of the day now!' (Fear not – the addiction eventually plateaus, she says.) Many other people have told her that listening to audio erotica has helped them and their partners to 'rediscover something that might have been lost.' And for those not in relationships, an intimate voice in one's ear can bring a certain kind of comfort unavailable anywhere else. Take this comment I saw below one of the Quinn stories: 'I recently moved out on my own for the first time and listening to your audios is the only thing that has made me feel like I'm not alone, and they've helped me prevent some mental health spirals. Thank you.' More Reading Even though erotic audio is essentially professional dirty talk – and some of it is indeed extremely dirty – there's also something I find deeply wholesome about it. Like Athena, I've been arrested by this form of storytelling that feels experimental, new, and a bit radical. I don't listen all that often – and certainly not in the kitchen, though I have played it when I'm alone in the car, hoping no cops pull me over – but I'm so glad it exists. It's made me more aware of the vast and diverse array of human turn-ons. I'm clearer on my own icks, and I've followed my curiosity down some surprising rabbit holes. I also happily pay for it. It's not just about compensating the creators; it also means no ads, no pop-ups, and no distractions. To access the stories inside apps like Quinn and Dipsea, listeners must cross what Athena and Jodi call 'thresholds of wanting': 'They must want to access the material enough to pay for it – and from there, must use the app's infrastructure to navigate to the material they desire.' On Quinn, for instance, users navigate mainly via the use of tags—all those [Car Sex] [Single Parent x Babysitter] [We Shouldn't] and whatnot. Based on the comments left under various stories, tags seem to function for many listeners as turn-ons in themselves, a kind of textual foreplay that teases at what will be found within. Together, these attributes make erotic audio apps into 'walled gardens', Athena and Jodi write – private-feeling spaces that encourage absorption and concentration. And I suspect these flowery, flourishing, filthy, secret-ish places might also help to foster what Dan Savage calls a ' zone of erotic autonomy ' – the private eroticism and mental sexual freedom we can all enjoy even within a monogamous relationship – and an enhanced intimacy with oneself and one's desires.


Otago Daily Times
17 hours ago
- Otago Daily Times
Cathies come home to dance in Octagon
Jonny Goldsmith usually spends his Saturday mornings with his head under a car bonnet, covered in grease, trying to get his beloved "old dunger" restoration project up and running again. Jonny Goldsmith dresses up for charity at the Most Wuthering Heights Day Ever, in Dunedin's Octagon on Saturday. PHOTOS: PETER MCINTOSH But the 46-year-old Port Chalmers man decided to do something quite different to that at the weekend, donning a red dress to celebrate the Most Wuthering Heights Day Ever, in Dunedin's Octagon instead. He was one of about 70 people at the event, which was founded by British group Shambush, and invites participants to re-create the music video for musician Kate Bush's 1978 song Wuthering Heights as a way to raise funds. The event is held globally every year, as close to Kate Bush's birthday (on July 30) as possible, and Dunedin is always the first city in the world to do it. "I'm a huge fan of Kate Bush, obviously, and my daughters did it one year and told me I should come along and watch." The next thing he knew, he was being slipped into a red dress and encouraged to dance. "It was a lot of fun, so I'm doing it again this year," he said. "It's a good chance to be doing something with my daughters, and it's a great way to support a local charity." About 70 people of all ages and genders participated in the Most Wuthering Heights Day Ever, in Dunedin's Octagon on Saturday. Dunedin city councillor and event organiser Mandy Mayhem said the annual event raised funds for Wellness, Empathy and Kindness Aotearoa (Weka), which provides support and positive change in physical, family, spiritual and mental wellbeing, through passion, knowledge and the use of simple and effective strategies. The organisation was established in response to people not being able to access mental health services at the level that they needed. The support includes group education sessions, one-to-one work, wellness recovery action plans, early warning sign triggers, information on anxiety and depression.