Everybody has a slightly possessive fantasy, and mine gets questionable pretty fast whenever a man I’m wildly into clears his weekend and has nowhere he needs to be until Monday. I want his phone ignored while his body stays close, perfectly content to let the rest of the world fend for itself while I enjoy having him all to myself. Other women can admire him from a respectful fucking distance because my community spirit has limits once I’m properly obsessed. By midnight another hour sounds completely reasonable, and by sunrise I’ve mentally extended his checkout time indefinitely while convincing myself this remains civilized behavior. The longer I let the fantasy run, the more territorial it gets, which frankly makes the whole thing more fun. Somewhere between “stay tonight” and “Monday can wait,” I start enjoying the idea that his schedule has become my problem. GET BEC’s ‘Cocoon’ takes that same little thrill and keeps feeding it until the crush becomes a deliciously unhinged game of keeping her favorite boy close for as long as she damn well pleases.
The production on ‘Cocoon’ belongs entirely to GET BEC, who wrote and produced the track during a Perth winter while apparently fantasizing hard enough to manufacture summer indoors. She wraps the whole thing in euphoric nu-disco built for dancing while she gets increasingly territorial over her crush, letting the fantasy grow funnier as her idea of keeping him close starts getting seriously fucking questionable. I hear it and want somebody close enough that dancing becomes an excuse to keep him pressed against me. Across the song the flirt keeps tightening until the middle eight goes full stalker-girl theater, and GET BEC plays that turn with a raised eyebrow fully aware she has taken the crush somewhere deliciously fucking unhinged.
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GET BEC opens with a plea that already sounds a little clingy in the sexiest way, “Stay with me tonight / Stay with me tonight / In my coo coo coo coo coo coo cocoon”. She gives us the poolside evidence right after with “Bodies glistening in the water / Got orange knees from that fake tan that I put on for ya / Those other girls adore ya / They wanna steal your heart away from me”. I love the orange knees because fake tan betraying you at the least glamorous possible spot is funny as shit, especially when you’re still busy claiming the hottest guy in the water. She clocks the competition and tightens her grip on the fantasy as “The smell of coconut lingers / When you pash me, all I wanna do is” puts coconut in the air while he’s kissing her. Pash is Australian slang for making out, which suits a song this horny and Australian almost too well. By that point she already sounds one kiss away from changing his mailing address.
Once she gets him home, the chorus gets deliciously physical with “Take you home and wrap you up in my cocoon / Pull your body closer so that I’m feeling you / Wind your legs around me / Like you know you wanna do / I might let you leave / But damn, I’ll be missing you”. The line about winding his legs around her is where this becomes my kind of fucking pop song because she is directing the encounter and enjoying every second of having him wrapped around her. Her maybe-release policy is the funniest part of the chorus, delivered so casually that you can practically see her deciding whether he has earned his shoes back. I have hidden keys for less and I respect the commitment.
In the second verse, she turns the lights on because she wants a better look, “Might let you leave the lights on / So I can see all the effort that you made / Looks like those gym classes paid off / You’re looking like a tall glass of lemonade”. She’s taking a sexy-ass inventory under full lighting and I support the inspection process. The lemonade line makes her thirst hilariously literal while the gym comment tells him she noticed the work. “Leaving my lips with tingles” gives us the physical after-effect of the kiss, and by now the makeout has left evidence she clearly plans to enjoy.
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Right at the middle eight, GET BEC lets the possessiveness go fully feral with “Hey, what the hell were you thinking? / Did you think that once I got you here, I’d ever let you leave? / Baby, what are you drinking? / Now you’re safe with me, even if I have to tie up your hands and feet”. This is playful stalker-girl fantasy with the volume cranked, a woman taking her crush so far that his exit has become her personal administrative decision. She knows she has pushed the fantasy deep into stalker-girl territory and keeps smiling through it, which turns the restraint line into a wicked little erotic threat. I laughed while moving my hips and wondered whether my nightstand drawer was sufficiently stocked with zip ties, which is some damn efficient pop writing.
Get Bec is the solo project of Australian producer, singer, songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Abi Bec, aka the woman apparently determined to turn her lounge room into the hottest little pop laboratory in Australia. While studying Commercial Music Production in London she won the Focusrite Emerging Music Producer Bursary in 2020 and treated access to more studio gear as an excellent excuse to become even more fucking obsessed with making records. She returned to Australia in 2022 and spent the next few years building GET BEC into her own wonderfully strange little universe, complete with Ugg boots and women making decisions their group chats will absolutely hear some shit about later. Her debut single, ‘Firestarter’, arrived June 26, followed by ‘Cocoon’, giving us the first proper look at an artist who clearly enjoys writing women talking themselves into very bad ideas. Abi writes and produces her own material, which gives the whole project a very specific kind of hot-girl control. She clearly knows where the party is going, and frankly, I trust the woman holding the keys.
I still maintain that wanting somebody for the whole weekend is perfectly civilized behavior. GET BEC simply follows the thought further than I usually say out loud. By the time Abi starts threatening his freedom, the imaginary checkout time has disappeared and she is having way too much fucking fun with the idea that her favorite boy belongs inside her little world until she says otherwise. That escalation is the joke, and she sells it because the obsession always carries a wink. I started at “clear your weekend.” Abi ended somewhere around “your emergency contact may want an update.” Frankly, that’s why her version is more fun.
