I'm unsure of myself, unsure of my new found freedom. Should I dance? Is it safe? Am I ready? What happens if they only play piano house now? Will I like it? Has dance music changed? Have I changed?
All sorts of existential questions have been floating through the minds of ravers this week. The return of nightclubs has been hotly contested stuff, what with the spike in new coronavirus cases and demanding on the door test policies which even Sven Marquardt might raise an eyebrow towards. It's all for the good of the dance though. Soon we will look back on these times and laugh... maybe.
All jokes aside, it was heartening and good to see so many dancers united in the clubs of London and beyond at the weekend. Moments were shared, smiles were wide, a few dj's clanged some mixes after not having put two and two together for a few years and we all had a wonderful time.
Meanwhile, London flooded. It was pretty wet on the weekend and all the folk who I usually laugh at for canoeing down the canal were remarkably smug as they paddled their way through the swampy water of the East London streets to the supermarket. Climate change is pretty freakin' real. However, as we have a Prime Minister who doesn't even know how to look after himself in the rain it's pretty unlikely that he'll be able to take on the wider weather system in all it's chaotic glory.
Anyway, i'm off to the Marble Arch Mound now so have a good one...
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