A couple of years back I was watching Rage after a bleary night out and this video came on. It was a guy in a cheesy 70s outfit dancing to an absolutely bangin' house track. It provoked a strange chain of responses within me:
- "Look at that old fool, he's old enough to be my dad"
- "Hang on he can still dance better than I can"
- "Wait a minute, he's RIGHT..."
House music isn't something that you can listen to with ironic distance. Either you feel it (preferably on the dance floor with others) or it makes as much sense as Linear A. What I really love about the video is the idea that Bobby Farrell is doing this stuff 24/7/365 not just at Boney M reunion gigs. The world is reenchanted by a man with flares and a beat box so big it must breach health & safety restrictions somewhere.
I guess this is what I am trying to do with The Offer. I'm tired of sitting in spoken word gigs with one man and his dog or watching talented writers scrabbling to get their work in anthologies that lose money. Not that the gigs or anthologies are bad in themselves - just hopelessly inadequate. We can no longer wait for people to come to us. We have to take it to them. Grab your flares and follow me and Bobby out the door. Turn on the music...
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