Posted by: martinworster | April 24, 2008


 Frequently at my local gym (Fitness 24 in Costa Mesa) I walk past an aerobics class and hear screechy happy hardcore pumping from the stereo. It’s exactly the type of music I used to dance to in the early 90s – fast breakbeats, helium-esque female vocals, rave synth stabs, pumping kick drums – although at the time for me it wasn’t part of a fitness regime. Oh no, it was part of very different culture of getting absolutely mullered whilst dancing like an idiot on sweaty dancefloors across London and smoking 60 cigarettes in one night. I used come home from a night out and my fingers glowed from the nicotine. Rave on matey.

I laugh wryly to myself as I look at the fit and healthy Californians stepping to the beat. It’s ironic how far this music has come from my mispent youth to this place Oceans away. Admittedly it does make for excellent work out music, the fast beats and hectic strings take some keeping up with. God knows how we managed it all those years ago? Well actually I do know, two pills and ten bottles of water, thanks very much. No wonder I lost so much weight back then, we used to dance for ten hours non stop. What are you on?

The lithe nubiles are in Jane Fonda-esque leotards. The fitness instructor is mic’d up and leading the dance. Very different from the MC back in my day: “This one for the raving massif, big up yo chests, E Possee come alive!”

The sounds of the London underground, fifteen years later, on a different continent and for different purposes. Life moves in very odd ways.


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