Nightclubs are excellent at turning dirty ideas into body language. One bass-heavy stare can make the bathroom stall feel closer than the Uber home, and Jesse Klick’s Take It sounds built for that slide from dancing to fucking. The whole track has sweat on it, with desire moving from the floor toward someplace with a lock while Jesse never bothers pretending anybody came here to behave. This is lust with a pulse and filthy intent, with self-control folding pretty fucking fast once somebody hot is close enough for you to feel their body heat.
Take It leans hard into Jesse’s maximalist electronic side, pushing hyper-pop energy through a dark dance-club atmosphere that feels hot enough to fog the mirrors. Jesse described the track as an erotic fantasy in the lane of Guess and Unholy, with the kind of energy that could soundtrack a party scene in Elite or Euphoria. That reference point makes sense because the song feels visually horny. You can practically see the low lighting and bodies moving too close together. The beat keeps everything kinetic while Jesse’s vocal turns increasingly intimate, giving the whole thing that dangerous chemistry where dancing starts looking suspiciously similar to foreplay.
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The fantasy opens with “Saw you in my dreams / On the floor, you were lying alone / Lips pink, bodies starting to flow.” Jesse has already put this person horizontal before we have properly entered the scene, which tells you where their fucking head is. Then the imagery gets wetter with “Saw you in the rain / Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip / Over your face.” Subtlety has left the building. Their breath starts racing, the movement goes “Up, down, up, down,” and “Hands all over the place” turns the dream into bodies grinding hard enough that imagination is basically doing wardrobe removal on its own.
Then Jesse gives the fantasy its command with “Touch me, you know how to love me / Take everything from me / Let the monster out.” That last line is where the sexy starts getting darker. Jesse wants the polished club version stripped away so whatever somebody has been holding back can finally come out and play. “Take everything from me” gives the scene voluntary surrender while “Let the monster out” makes that surrender feel dangerous as hell. Desire stops behaving nicely because nobody in this song seems interested in nice.
The hook keeps repeating “Take it like you got stake in it,” which turns sex into something you are supposed to participate in with your whole fucking body. Jesse is demanding investment. Then “Take it, lemme hear you / Lemme hear you in the background / Uh” makes the command even hotter because apparently silence would be disappointing. They want evidence that this is working. The song is full of that kind of confidence, where wanting somebody comes with instructions instead of nervous little hints.
Round two starts sweating harder with “Felt you in the heat / Like steam rising all over me.” Then Jesse tells him “Slow down, slow down, start savoring me,” and suddenly speed is less interesting than making the moment last. “Smooth tequila lime / Going down like candy on ice” gives the whole thing a taste, and Jesse lets that mouth imagery hang around long enough to make the next section feel inevitable. This is the point where the dance floor is losing the argument to whatever private corner is available.
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The sex gets wonderfully filthy with “Bodies getting loud / But I’m wanting you to whisper / Making daddy proud / While I give it to you, mister,” putting the power exchange right in the open. Jesse follows it with “I don’t share, and I put it where I like it,” which makes control part of the turn-on. Then comes “Tongue to make you scream, and a kiss to keep you quiet.” Well, fuck. The tongue line makes the oral-sex subtext a flashing sign, while the kiss afterward feels almost cruelly playful. Get him loud, then shut him up. That is queer sexual confidence with its shirt already on the bathroom floor.
Jesse Klick is a Los Angeles-based queer pop and electronic artist who describes their music as being for people who feel everything and then dance about it. On Take It, some of those people are clearly doing considerably more than dancing. Jesse’s broader work centers queer self-discovery and big emotion inside high-gloss electronic worlds, with music and visuals treated as parts of the same experience. That makes this track feel completely at home in their catalog. The fantasy is sexual, but Jesse is also building a world around it, one where queer desire gets to be loud as shit and completely comfortable wanting what it wants.
The final tease, “Meet me at the body shop / Unholy / I’m about to wind you up / So slowly,” finishes what all that body language in the opening started. Jesse has gone from watching somebody across the room to telling them how they want to be touched and handled, and there is something fucking hot about how completely the hesitation disappears. Take It starts with attraction taking over your body and ends with Jesse owning what happens next. Self-control never stood a chance.
