May Music, Day 24 – Wild Abandon

The seventies were notable for a few trends in music and style that now leave me shaking my head in wonder at what we, as teenagers, must have looked like to the adults of the time.

Twindaddy’s asking for his 24th question which song we remember dancing to with our best friend.

Going to the dancing was a very mixed experience. Some places favoured punk rock and the patrons embraced that with weird and wild piercings and multi-coloured hairdo’s of high jagged proportions.

That wasn’t me.

A few venues catered more to glam rock. ‘Poseurs’ strutted their stuff with every imaginable make-up and clothes combo, hair sprayed into full flamboyancy or left to hang moodily over one eye. Guys too.

Not my thing.

If you wanted soul music you could have that in abundance too at dedicated clubs.

I never did.

Glitz and disco glamour pervaded many places and spangly jumpsuits weaved their work on the dance floor.

Never owned one.

In and around the streets of Glasgow – as so many other places – a veritable Hallowe’en parade of styles could be found wending their ways to rock, pop, mod, punk, glam fests, all sporting the look that best suited their musical tastes.

I just liked dancing. As did my best friend. Weekends were for dancing and we tried out various places before opting for ones that catered to eclectic musical tastes.

With this in mind we could be found dancing to heavy rock, pop, punk or whatever. So long as it had a good bass or drum beat we were on the floor.

As for our style. We favoured a more arty, hippy look – long flowing skirts or dresses to go with the long flowing hair. I cringe now at the scarves or love beads wound around our necks and the scent of patchouli oil still lingers in my olfactory memories.

Our dancing then quite often reflected that look and the song I can see us both letting go to is ‘Wuthering Heights’ by Kate Bush. All wild abandon. When questioned what we were on, our honest answer was Coke – as in Cola. We just didn’t seem to need any stimulants other than music and life.

My passport photo from that time reflected that look and I had to live with it for 10 years – long after I’d abandoned being a pretend hippy. Thank God, though, I hadn’t been a punk.

May Music, Day 17 – Are you dancin’? Are you askin’?

Lots of songs make me want to dance. I dance a lot. There’s no helping it. The beat kinda reverberates and sets off a reaction in my shoulders and hips. Once that moment occurs there’s no stopping really. I think dancing is the most natural thing in the world.

Watch a babe that can’t even walk when dancing music begins to play. They react. Little nappied bottoms bouncing up and down, usually accompanied by squeals of delight. Even if they can’t yet speak they often try to sing along in a sort of musical baby gibberish. It’s wonderful to behold.

People are sometimes told that they can’t sing or dance. And ok, not everyone has the same abilities and talents in those spheres. But why should it stop anyone from enjoying something that once was such an elemental part of the person?

So, I’m dancing. No matter what. No one’s told me to sit down yet!

As for which song to choose for this seventeenth day of the twenty-five day music challenge….now of biblical proportions for me…

One that has stayed with me for the last few months and I play a lot for the sheer joy of dancing along is Imagine Dragons’ ‘I’m on top of the world’. I’ve posted it before. One of the other participants has already posted it for one of their days.

I’ve taken this song into several schools. Classes of children, regardless of age group, have whooped and skipped and jumped in gym halls. Along with me. That’s dancing with delight.

But, as a teacher, I spend a lot of my time repeating myself. Now and again, I like to rebel. So, I’m posting something that’s not a repetition. But I still love dancing to. Van Morrison, ‘Brown Eyed Girl’.

Now, this one has particular significance because it’s the only song I never have to drag hubby on to the floor for. Living room, dance hall, party…..picture slow jive.  Wait a minute…..I don’t have brown eyes!

 

Hypocritical?

Eighteen year old boyo returned home tonight proudly presenting a new set of speakers for his I-Pod. Including a bass speaker. Wonderful. We’ve all long criticised the quality of some of the docking stations that have seen their way through this house. Never enough bass and the sound quality can be quite tinny. I hate that. Really discourages loud music playing.

I like my music loud. If I’m doing housework (if) I want to be able to hear my music from room to room. When Freddie Mercury is encouraging me to think that ‘I want to break free’ then I want to hear him. If I’m singing my heart out to ‘Who wants to live forever?’ I like the volume turned up.

It’s not that I don’t like quiet music. I do. But I really enjoy it loud and then I can feel it too, thrumming through my body and making me dance. Might be a generational thing and the types of bands listened to in the past. And present, if I’m honest.

A lot of what my kids like I like too. But not all of it. And vice versa. Which might be why sometimes they come home when I’m busy ‘doing housework’ – dancing counts as long as there’s a hoover attached to one hand – well, it does! and tell me that my music is waaay too loud.

So, I’m feeling a bit hypocritical tonight ‘cos I enjoyed David’s demonstration of his new speakers earlier. But now, I want to go and stick them where the sun don’t shine. His room is right above mine. And I can hear and feel every vibration. He has half an hour more then I’m gonna pull rank!