All She Wants To Do Is Dance


I don’t’ know what’s up with all of this Dance craze business.  Everywhere I go…every person I talk to seems to be hung up on the resurregence of Dance music.  It’s Dance this…Dance that…Dance…Dance…Dance.

Excuse me?  I certainly don’t get it.  There is absolutely, positively nothing in my life or vocabulary that can convince me that the Dance lifestyle…which includes music, clubs and clothing…is making a comeback.

I mean, just because WKTU in New York makes a tiny move, I’m supposed to do the Hustle? I think not.

Hey, I like The Night Life as much as anyone else.  And Heaven Knows, I’m constantly surrounded by people who have, on occasion, visited the Disco Saturday Night at the Viper Room, but me…I’m completely satisfied at the Y.M.C.A.

I’m the kind of person who isn’t effected by fads and changes in musical taste. Let’s face it: I broke all those records.  And even if Dance did make a huge comeback, I Will Survive.  I remember dancing the Last dance in 1985.  Of course, the Last Contest on KCBQ San Diego about December ’63 and it wasn’t really the last radio contest, so, Heaven Knows, if Disco didn’t really die, there is a precedent.

In our industry, there is not shortage of people who are quick to say, “Express Yourself.”  The fact that most of these same people live on or over the Borderline isn’t really important…expect to their immediate family.  Then there are those who say, “We Are Family,” referring to the entire industry.  However, we know this is bullshit, because it’s all about cash.  My girlfriend is in the record business and I can vouch for the fact that She Works Hard For Her Money.

Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood.  I’m the first person to swear I want to party ‘til it’s 1999.  All my friends will tell you that I love to Get Up And Boogie.  I swear I Love The Nightlife.  It’s just that all of this talk about Dance music and Disco is way too much, too soon.  Mama Used To Say that you must take things slowly and consider all sources before you make any decisions.  Of course, when Mama made her famous tuna casserole, she would say, “That’s The Way (Uh-huh, Uh-huh) I Like It.” Mama was a Dancing Queen.

It might comes as a surprise to many of you to know that I once ruled the Disco.  Yes, Columbia, Mississippi had never seen the likes of the moves I made on that slick, hardwood floor.  Long before John Travolta struck that famous pose, I was definitely in Vogue.  I’ll never forget the one moment that my world turned Upside Down.  It was the Night A DJ Saved My Life.

It was a normal evening at the Knights of Columbus Hall.  All the old vets were sitting in the parking lot, grumbling about the young people who were taking over their meeting spot.  The place was jumping…the music was pumping.  The Bad Girls were purring and my words were slurring. (Beep Beep.)

Someone said, “You Should Be Dancing,” and I was.  I was working on the great new step the Second Time Around, when I got Into The  Groove.  All My Passion began to flow.  I swear, in the depths of Mississippi, I suddenly felt like a Native New Yorker.  Suddenly, something Set It Off.  There was gun fire.  Then, there was One More Shot.

It was the one that would Ring My Bell.

My friends threw me in the back of a pickup truck to take me to the hospital.  Instead, they took me to Funky Town, where I was treated Like A Virgin.  In other words, I was touched for the very first time. Although I was a little afraid, I heard a voice shouting, “More More More.” I was Fascinated until I realized the voice was mine.

Throwing caution to the wind, I ignored my pain and decided to Get Up And Boogie.  I was Too Turned On to think about the Lucky Star that had invaded my galaxy.  I don’t know what it was, but I noticed someone shouted to Dim All The Lights.  Everybody…everybody began to Dance The Night Away.  It was Like A Prayer was answered.  Heaven Must Have Sent You From Above to Turn The Beat Around.  Billie Jean and Gloria put some Hot Stuff on my wound.  I said, “Don’t Leave Me This Way,” but they said, “Shame, Shame, Shame all you have is the Night Fever.  You better get rid of it because it’s twice as bed the Second Time Around.”

The next I knew, I was Dreamin’ Of Love.  Some Nasty Girl told me it was Ladies Night and she was going to Spank me.  We wound up at MacArthur Park.  She said, “It Takes Two.”  I didn’t want to disappoint her and let her know that it only took one, so, Knock On wood, I just Let The Music Play.  I had no idea she had Sexual Healing on her mind.

I was seconds away from being In The Bush.  I was ready to Get Into The Groove with Le Freak when I realized I was Born To Be Alive.  I felt The Power.  I was sweating like crazy.  It was, after all, Summertime, Summertime.  I heard my song On The Radio and demanded that my friends take me Right Back Where We Started From.

When I got back to the club, all I could thing of was Thank God It’s Friday.

So there you have the tale of my Bad Luck days as King of the Disco.  Hey, even if it was in a small town in Mississippi, I had happy feet and for one brief moment in time, all the girls wanted to dance with me.

There was even on big fat hillbilly that wanted to Let It Whip, but that’s another story all together.

It’s a Shame when I think back on it.  Those were the days.  It was the time of 100% Pure Love.  There was the constant Temptation to Let Me Take You Dancing.  Every night was Another Night, if you know what I mean.  There certainly weren’t any I.O.U.’s being written.  I always felt like a Macho Man.

My only regret was that I had to leave Maria, the love of my life.

But that was yesterday and yesterday’s gone.  I could go on Dreamin’ Of Love for the rest of this column, but it would be a waste of time.  Dance isn’t happening.  How could anyone think so.  Even my girlfriend would agree.  I tried to get her to help me with this column, but she was busy down at the Car Wash.

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