NEW GROOVE FOR LEGS:
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
Listening to Howlin’ Wolf ‘Moanin; at Midnight‘