a drum a drum
and bass and bass and bass
deep reverb echoes off my face
my cranium thin vibrating party walls
I knew this skull from long ago
and to this end we all will come
but not tonight no way
a drum a drum and bass and bass and bass
I’m on a nightclub balcony
but could
as soon be
or
not be upon
some castle ramparts ghastly
prevaricating indecisive
in languorous admiration of the mass
those dance emotion bodies moving
down the Haç.
a drum a drum and bass and bass -
bad bass bounce Bambaataa bad rub - a - dub - dub - dub
if ever nightclub kingdoms
fall
we’ll all build castles from the rubble of the Dub.
my ears are now in 3D now all-hearing
a drum a drum and bass and bass and bass
strange Techno reimagining of Strange Fruit
or maybe we have eaten of the insane root?
I find a dry ice room of fog and filthy air
a chill-out zone with next to no one there
some walking shadows signifying
nothing
and nothing outside this moment matters
(though I don’t know why I wrote that line because I never thought it at the time -
just lived it)
and in this moment
I know not when or where or who
I am no one / I am Shaman.
an Acid House remix of Slave to the Rhythm
drab inhibitions busting out of prison
percussion clatter rattled like the rending of all chains
my mum would say these tunes all sound the same
(but clearly fa so* young and clever
we know better).
a drum a drum and bass and bass and bass
now hearing colours now tasting flashing lights
now
feeling hot
now feeling cold as ice meaning
lost
and found
in the dungeon of the night.
I coyly request a Paradise Garage mix the flowers of Ophelia -
DJ Violet says she’ll play that later
Mick Hucknall dances on the Frantic Elevator
old Holden Caulfield
dithers over
a dagger
(I’ll always love that dude)
a sweet prince and a symbol wait for fate
under a Killing Moon
Hunter S Thompson drops another quaalude
some post-punk band trash In the Mood indie beats as fast as pumping iron
throw another rhythm in the cauldron
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern suck cocktails in The Gay Traitor**
a drum a drum
and bass and bass and bass
out of the body experiences transcending race and gender
just another night down the Haçienda
dancing to the Mondays and the Roses
popping pills and powdering our noses
a mindfulness of mushrooms coming up
(we quit before we got serious neuroses)
we thought we could do anything leap mountains part the seas
we thought we were as bad as Holy Moses where
bad means good
fair is foul and foul is fair
something is rotten there
so somehow still smells sweet
my memories dance as fast as funky feet.
if this decadent reign must be o’erthrown
I can’t help thinking
it’s still better
than what came after -
sly normalisation of gent rification / austerity / corruption
a rising tide of lies hath made of us
a sad
and small-
er, nation
preferring dis dis disco discombobulation
I feel more at home in Haçienda dislocation.
a drum a drum and bass and bass and bass.
Exeunt
Notes
* do re mi fa so la ti do.
** The Gay Traitor - a bar in the basement of the Haçienda nightclub..
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