Friday 9th January



Legs don’t want to play the game, gone strange on me today,
walking like a dinosaur, like granddad’s ‘roll’.
I have to ‘think’ how to walk to make them work like they
did – they used to dance, the need for that appears
unrequited on the path ahead. Dancing was something I was
too embarrassed to do as a kid, I thought everyone was
cool but me. I heard them excitedly taking about weekend clubs
& dances, the moves & who they’d snogged & it scared the life
out of me. I felt like a freak, out of step with everyone else
my age. They were enjoying the thrill of dance & I wanted to
feel that so bad, but just couldn’t get past this painful
self conscious isolation. All the time, I was watching though,
soaking it up, the moves on the tele, the struts, the thrusts,
the body grooves & slides. James Brown, The Motowners, The
Atlantic records soul stars, that whole scene going on in
America thrilled me. Then Acid House landed in my back garden
& opened it’s doors in front of me like the last chance saloon.
Baggy Motion, bodies in abandon, steppin’ to a new groove.
I watched, stood at the side like a little kid again, too
afraid to join in, but the groove got to me & a voice in my
head whispering,


Listening to Howlin’ Wolf ‘Moanin; at Midnight


One thought on “Friday 9th January

  1. It was New Years Eve in the early 90´s (-93 or -94) when I visited my old hometown Miskolc in Hungary in hope of forgetting everything bad that happened that year and hopefully start of something new.
    My 10 years younger cousins were very excited about the new rave club that some innovative organizers established in an old disused chicken farmhouse in Polgár, a village 40 minutes drive from town.
    During the new year´s celebration the club was open 24 hours for several days with different DJ´s playing, if my memory serves me right. I never noticed the DJ´s to be honest, non of us did back then. It was a time when the music was more important than a DJ and the dance floor was for dancing and not for a standing crowd staring at a Mac with a man behind it.
    I remember we came, we danced for hours, drove home for some food and sleep and then drove back & danced again. I even met here my old boyfriend, who also left Hungary and lived in Germany by this time & he told me that the music we all were so crazy about is German. This was the place where I heard Scooter – Hyper Hyper for the first time.

    Happy dancing!

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