6) 2 On, 2015
2013 sees three massive changes in my life. Firstly: I get serious with D. I met him late 2012, he's still perfect. Secondly: I get a promotion at work, despite not having applied for anything - I've been noticed and rewarded with an opportunity (with hindsight, it's not really - it's a job nobody particularly wants but it comes with an element of prestige and potential, and it's flattering to be given it rather than need to apply). Thirdly: I finally give up on my brother. I spend a weekend visiting D and come home to find our flat completely trashed. It's extra disappointing because my brother has been making noises about self-improvment, things are going to be different, he's bought leather couches from Gumtree to replace the ones that are ruined with cigarette stains and his pals' grafiti tags, let's not live like this. The ironing board is broken and a bag of new clothes I had bought is strewn across the floor, they may be Primark tees but it's the principle. As I leave to go to work my neighbour stops me and I explain that not only was I not there for this carnage unfolding but I've reached my limit and here's my landlord's number, would you like to put in a complaint, because nothing is going to change him at this point. It's a shitty thing to do but it's what happens when you do shitty things to people, or so I tell myself.
The promotion comes just after I've signed the lease on the flat I'm going to live in, which is annoying as I wouldn't have chose to stay local and travel an hour each way to work. But that's how it is, and anyway I could never have afforded a deposit on anywhere substantially closer to the city. But otherwise, it's looking not too awful: the job is tough but not unbearable and I've definitely won a lottery on agreeable colleagues. The flat is basic but cheap, secure and in a block where people own their own places, so there's a sense of care and respect. D continues to be great.
It's not without its challenges: I'm skint all the time. Gigs, clubs, new clothes, takeaways - they're now luxuries. Me and D go out for dinners and shows but I'm much more careful and my days of 3am taxis on a weeknight are over. When I do go out, I don't go raving, I go clubbing. I think of the two as seperate interests: you can be into both, but they aren't the same. Raving aligns with dance music, and is about the thrill of the new, sonic adventurous and moments of ephemerality. Clubbing aligns with pop music and is about the familiar, where the social element is more important than the music. Raving is wanting to see a DJ because they'll play good tunes, clubbing is heading into town because it's Becky's birthday and we've booked a booth in Spoons for before it. I do enjoy clubbing, depending on the company and the venue and the drinking potential, but I prefer raving. I spend 2013-2015 basically only going out because I've been invited to events like a birthday or the Xmas night out, purely for financial reasons. This gets worse when in 2014 the contract isn't extended and the job becomes redundant and I'm back in my old role.
A lot of clubbing is tedious. You have to wear the right clothes and behave a certain way. Now I'm older, I simply would just refuse the invite and not even make up an excuse, but back then I would go out. Suck it up, be a team player, it was kind of them to invite you so head out and buy them a drink and maybe you can catch the night bus home. Yes, this place is full of aggressively heterosexual men in Ben Sherman shirts, but you don't want to ruin Becky's night. They're all keeping their jacket on and clearly snorting cheap cocaine but it's up to them how they spend their weekend, it's just not how I would necessarily choose to.
It would be easy to hate high street clubbing except for two things. Firstly, the people who invite me out are friends, and even though I still feel obliged to go I actually always have a laugh. The drinks and the banter flow easily and every apprehensive night ends up being a good time. But more importantly: most regular clubs play pop and r&b, which I like and love.
Dancing to r&b is different to dancing to Proper Dance Music. The tempos and grooves are trickier than the linear nature of house and techno, so you have to have a really good sense of rhythm and self co-ordination to be a great dancer to this kind of stuff. It's also a style that's based on performance, so when you dance, you have to be actively performative, expressionistic, unashamed to really inhabit the emotional territories of it.
None of this is in my head the first time I hear "2 On" in a club. My thoughts are "oh, yes, I do love to get 2 On, great." It's a place called Kushion, I've been for short visits under duress several times, it's not my scene and I don't fit in. Which is a shame because I love r&b and dancing to it. But I'm already drunk, we're having a good time, and as soon as I hear those opening bass notes and mustard-on-the-beat hook I'm dragging the girls to the dancefloor. I think "2 On" is great because it takes the pleasures of raving - textural sonics and intoxication - and applies them to clubbing, and so opens a door to enjoying this music in a different way. My enemies, they see me living now, and if you roll with me then you'll be winning now - having a good time, for the sake of having a good time, is just as much a pleasure.