Valentine's Day: seduction songs

We should welcome the latest wave of artists (Drake, the Weeknd et al) lauded for fixating on sex as a source of self-loathing. Not because their self-pity is profound or insightful, but because it's a handy way for the rest of us to weed out the duds – the self-absorbed, the boys who cry after sex. Instead, the best seduction songs aren't by people parading their faux-sensitivity, but by people aware of how to convey hedonistic pleasure and sincere devotion. Note: picking good seduction songs does not mean slowing the tempo. (Someone attempting to get you into bed while the heartbroken tones of Mary J Blige play in the background is a discomfiting experience.) And no outsize personalities in the bedroom either: as excellent Beyoncé's Dance for You and R Kelly's R&B Thug are, hearing them just puts Beyoncé and Kellz into my mind, which is bad luck for whoever I'm with at the time. Goapele – Play The ache in Goapele's voice and the tension of the arrangement are deliberately misleading: though she initially seems wrapped up in uncertainty, she's soon throwing shadows and shapes, delighting in the unexpected like any good lover should – muffled cymbals here, an airy whoosh there, all underpinned by the steady rhythm of come-hither fingerclicking. The song affects helplessness, but it's the work of a master seductress. Robin Thicke – Love After War Courting and cliches are often natural bedfellows; maybe it's a means of making the process less awkward, but the feeling of slipping into a role or falling back on a well-worn turn of phrase is a familiar one. As corny as it can be, embracing it tends to be a good look – as Robin Thicke does with the archetype of the smoothe, tuxedo-clad casanova here, on a song that feels like being led around a luxurious ballroom while a handsome stranger whispers sweet nothings in your ear. Anyone who has witnessed the female response to Thicke at his concerts can attest to the effectiveness of this strategy. Champion ft Ruby Lee Ryder – Sensitivity Pulses of bass like fingers on skin, a rhythm that gradually bends you to its own syncopation: Sensitivity erodes the distinction between the club anthem and the bedroom slow jam astonishingly effectively, instead creating an entirely separate space for itself. Here, Ruby Lee Ryder essays a vocal perfectly balanced between the ethereal and the physical; by the time she turns her attention to herself, overcome with feeling and sinking into wordless gasps, she's already got you hooked. Diddy Dirty Money – Sade Invoking the goddess of sensuality isn't just chutzpah on the part of this R&B trio: rather than just being an empty reference point, it's an understanding of how Sade's music fitsoundtracks people's lives. Sade (the song) is as tactile and sensual as Sade (the artist) – synths as light as air currents seem to exhale as bumping bass propels it forward – but there's also an undercurrent of darkness and obsession. It's a song that feels like spending all day in bed with someone, shut off from the rest of the world; a hermetically sealed bubble that's as much a trap as a cocoon. This only makes it more alluring. Ciara – Promise It's no surprise that the best seduction song of the noughties is, in fact, also the best song of the decade full stop. Promise takes sumptuousness to new levels. Musically, there are layers of vocals, natural and vocodered, rolling across a bed of echoing drums and percussive gasps. Structurally, it's a song that keeps on giving: two intros, two spoken-word sections – the second hitting you as Ciara pledges, "From the bottom of my heart, I would never – never ever – hurt you; I open my heart."