Billie Eilish - "Birds of a Feather (Nadine's Version)"

Chopped & screwed version of "Birds of a Feather" available here.

Chapter 3 of 10.

Before Billie was even told her own name, everyone knew it, because it’s a name someone else chose and took credit for, like so many male critics are desperate to assign the credit for female genius to record executives, who just so happen to also be men. If not a male producer, whether Phil Spector or Jack Antonoff, they will still probably give all the credit to your older brother, whose voice often lurks in the background of your music like a shadow, or a watchman who maybe needs to also be watched.

When Billie feels love, it’s a profoundly tactile experience, not just butterflies in the stomach or the heart skipping a beat, but “lips [meeting] teeth and tongue,” the very things she reminds us of with her mouth sounds, which also remind us that she is a living and breathing human woman, and not just an object on a shelf, bought and paid for and then forgotten about by a man who has subjected a thousand women to the same casually cruel cycle of violence, and who are always will probably subject a thousand more women to that same vicious Ouroboros, long after we are gone.