Target Practice

Target Practice: Sheena Easton “Sugar Walls”


Welcome to Target Practice where bad popular songs of the past and present get shot. For as long as music has existed, sex songs have found their way into our consciousness. To me, a good sex song is more sensual than explicit and it sets the right mood for love-making. That’s why I prefer songs like Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get It On and Sexual Healing or Isley Brothers’ Between The Sheets and why I couldn’t get into some of R Kelly’s music or any rap sex song. When you go too explicit or be less subtle, it sorta kills the mood you’re trying to set. A good sex song is all about atmosphere and if your atmosphere sucks, it brings the whole thing down. Today’s Target Practice victim is an example of that. From 80s artist Sheena Easton, this is Sugar Walls.

My sugar walls
My sugar walls

Sugar walls, huh? I wonder what that means. Could it be a wall made of sugar?

Where I came from
There’s a place called Heaven
That’s the place where
All the good children go

As opposed to that other place where bad children go. What’s it called, Heck?

The houses are of silver
The streets are gold
But there’s more
Where you come from
My sugar walls

My sugar walls, ooh
My sugar walls

So in Heaven, there’s houses made of silver and streets made of gold and they’re all surrounded by sugar walls. Why does this sound like someone’s fan fiction of Wizard Of Oz and Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory?

Blood races to your private spots
Lets me know there’s a fire
You can’t fight passion
When passion is hot
Temperatures rise
Inside my sugar walls

Ouch. Fire crotch. That has to burn. On a serious note, by no surprise, sugar walls in the context of this song is Sheena Easton’s vagina. My preamble should’ve gave that away. Subtlety? What’s that?

Lemme take you somewhere
You’ve never been
I can show you things
You’ve never seen

I can make you never
Wanna fall in love again
Come spend the night
Inside my sugar walls

The inside of your vagina? Well, thanks for tattooing that image in my brain.

Take advantage, it’s all right

So in the words of MC Ren: “If you got a gang of niggaz, the bitch would let you rape her.”

I feel so alive
When I’m with you
Come and feel my presence
It’s raining tonight

Heaven on Earth
Inside my sugar walls

I can tell you want me
(My sugar walls)
It’s impossible to hide
Your body’s on fire, admit it
Come inside (my sugar walls)

Ahhh (my sugar walls) ooh
Come inside (my sugar walls)
My sugar walls

(My sugar walls)
Come spend the night
Inside my sugar walls




O-kay. I’m ending this analysis right here.

This song is a prison of sourness. You wanna know how NOT to do a sex song? This is it right here. The lyrics have the subtlety of a gunshot wound. They’re not too graphic, but they’re graphic enough so that anyone with a brain knows what the song is actually about. Sheena’s voice just doesn’t fit with this song. You need someone whose voice is seductive and this chick is not seductive at all, it’s too innocent-sounding. Like I said in my preamble, atmosphere is an important part of making a sex song and the producer of Sugar Walls fucked up that part pretty bad. Of all of the types of production you could use, you chose the most dated, cheap, cluttered synthpop that could only exist in the 80s. Shame on you. And to think this was actually written by Prince. Yeah, that Prince. Mr. Purple Rain himself. Maybe he’s just giving away the crap he wrote to other people. Everyone has those days, I guess. Next Target Practice, I tackle a song from the self-proclaimed “pretty muthafucka.”



Any Time, Any Place-Janet Jackson

Leave A Trace-CHVRCHES

Edge Of Glory-Lady GaGa

Only Happy When It Rains-Garbage