Have you ever been so fucking electric that a man wanted to wear you? Like, actually carry your mark on his body so the whole room could see who he belonged to. I have. One time I kissed someone at 2am with my darkest red lipstick still on and he straight up did not wipe that shit off. Went back to the group, smeared red across his mouth, wearing a billboard that said “she happened to me and I’m not fucking mad about it.” His friends saw. His ex definitely saw. And he stood there looking completely gone over me like my lipstick smeared across his face was a damn trophy he’d earned. I thought about that night the first time I heard Issac Ryan Brown’s ‘Lipstick’ because this whole track is that energy bottled up in three minutes of R&B-laced dance pop that does something genuinely embarrassing to you when you’re listening alone. Issac is absolutely not playing around on this one and we need to get into it.
The song is about a man fully unraveling over a woman he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve, and he opens with zero pretense. “Too hot for me, punching above my blessings” and he’s already surrendered, already clocking the gap between what she is and what he thinks he is, and showing up anyway. She’s been with him and now she’s gone and her perfume is still all over him and he is not okay. “Each time you leave, girl I’ve still got your perfume” goes right into “All over me, you wouldn’t be the first to / But you’re all I need, although I don’t deserve you,” and that line is doing a lot of shit simultaneously. He’s not pretending to be some untouched romantic. He’s saying this woman makes his entire history irrelevant, makes everything before her feel like it doesn’t count, and that’s the kind of obsession that should probably concern somebody but not her. Not you. And definitely not me.
Then we get to the part that genuinely wrecked me. He’s not asking her to kiss him. He’s asking her to mark him, everywhere, deliberately, so the evidence is visible. “Baby stick your lipstick, all over my lips quick / Then all over…kiss kiss kiss kiss” and the trailing off is doing so much work because the “all over” is an invitation with no ceiling on it. Then: “And take it high then take it low / Wherever your lips go, leave it like a logo / Like my body’s yours so, everybody else knows, they know…” He wants to be claimed as a public event and honestly that’s some filthy shit to ask for out loud. He wants her mouth to be the proof that he belongs to her, wants to walk back into a room wearing her all over him so everyone can read exactly who he is now and who he belongs to. That’s a man who has handed himself over completely and made it sound so goddamn hot you forget you’re watching a girl take advantage of his full psychological collapse.
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And then he goes ahead and says the quiet part out loud. “Your so electrifying I swear your lighting up the night / Its not dignified I swear I gave up all my pride.” He knows. He’s cataloguing the damage in real time, watching his own dignity walk out the door, and he’s fine with it. “Foot prints in my head, where you been walking through my mind / I die to get it, this feels like suicide.” She is stomping around in his brain rent free, just living up there, and wanting her has gotten so physically consuming that it feels fatal. The production underneath all of this is warm and rolling, that R&B pulse that you feel in your hips before your brain registers how filthy the whole thing actually is. Detroit in his DNA, Motown in the bones of the track, and the whole thing sounds expensive as hell.
“Kiss me hard if you mean it / Double down if you feel it / Make sure they all see it.” He’s not asking. That’s an instruction. He wants the performance of possession as much as he wants possession itself, wants it visible, wants witnesses to the claiming. And then the whole thing builds to what I think is the most vulnerable line on the track: “Just outside, are all the guys have been dreaming of stealing what is mine, I guess they must be blind / I see them just outside, all the guys that been dreaming of stealing what is mine, so if your mine” and that “so if” just hangs there, unfinished. He sees the competition. He’s aware they’re circling. And everything he’s already offered, all the pride he burned, all the public surrender, was him trying to make himself the obvious choice before she decides. And look, when a guy this fine starts going full beta on you, you grab that shit and you own it. That’s just science.
Okay so Issac Ryan Brown is 20 years old, from Detroit, and absolutely built different, and we need to talk about it. The man is tall, dark, and criminally fine, all warm brown skin and sharp jaw and a smile that does something genuinely illegal to your nervous system. He moves like someone who’s been performing since before he could drive, which, for the record, he has been. His shoulders carry a whole damn story. You know the type – the kind of guy who looks you dead in the eye when he talks to you and suddenly you’ve forgotten your own name.
The origin story goes like this. Issac sang his first solo in church at three years old. Three. While most of us were still figuring out how pants worked, this man was commanding a congregation. By six, he was on America’s Got Talent doing a full Michael Jackson performance and making Howie Mandel lose his shit. That wasn’t a cute kid moment. That was a flex. Detroit and Motown are baked into his DNA and you can hear it in every note, that swagger that feels like it skipped a generation and landed specifically on him.
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Most people know him as Booker from Raven’s Home, Disney’s Emmy-nominated golden boy, wholesome and charming and safe for all ages. And then July 2024 happened. He threw himself a birthday party slash EP release called The Issac Experience, dropped “My Eyes Only,” debuted the “Show Me” video, and basically said goodbye to the Disney kid era with zero apology. “I wanted this video to be a little more sensual and sexy showing more of my grown side,” he said, and baby, he was not fucking around. The pivot was deliberate and the execution was gorgeous.
His sound sits in this sweet spot between classic Motown warmth and modern R&B confidence, music that sounds expensive and effortless at the same time. “End of the Season” in early 2026 had people comparing his production choices to Bruno Mars and Nile Rodgers, and honestly that comparison doesn’t feel even slightly unhinged. He’s been chasing the kind of music that doesn’t expire, the stuff that sounds just as good in ten years as it does the first time you hear it. MJ is his north star and it shows, not in a costume-y way, in a real, studied, passionate way that makes you take him seriously.
The guy who didn’t wipe off my lipstick texted me eight months later just to say he still thought about that night. I didn’t respond, and honestly I didn’t have to, because ‘Lipstick’ already said everything I would have. Issac Ryan Brown made a whole damn song about what it feels like to be so gone over a woman that you’d let her brand you in public and call it a privilege, and if that doesn’t do something to you then I genuinely don’t know what to tell you. He’s 20 years old and he’s already figured out that surrender can be sexy as hell when you own it completely. Girls, after you play this one you’re going to need a drink, a cigarette, and recovery time.
Catch Issac as a featured track on our Secret Rendezvous R&B playlist.
