Sunday, February 10, 2008

At the Temple of Ishtar

What the fuck is up with clubs?

OK, dancing can be fun. For my part, I'm always gonna take slamdancing (or, honestly, skanking, or even just fistpumping) than going to a club and boppin' around to beats I could have written on my computer in half an hour--but to each his own, right? That's cool. It is a lot of fun when you get into it, any kind of dance. But that's because dance is powerful.

I've always maintained that moshing is a way to connect to the spirit of heavy music in a way that's aggressive, felt rather than thought, and deeply primal. It's rage in the storm, and while there's a code to it at most shows, the soul of the mosh pit will always be to mimic and thus channel the spirit of the music through the motions of your body. For me, all dancing--to music--has this purpose. I don't know anything about jazz or ballet or modern, but I know a little about music and how to connect to it through locomotion.

Except club dancing is different from slamdancing. Sure, you're channelling the spirit of the beats with your body. But what are you doing, really? Grinding up against someone, trying to grind up against someone, throwing your arms and hips all over the place so that it looks like you're having sex with yourself, or engaging in some weird dance-conversation with someone so that you can grind up against them later. The music you're hearing is specifically engineered, mixed, looped, and crossfaded to facilitate these purposes. In a very real way, the spirit of club music is sex itself. Sure it can be fun to dance to--in the sense that jumping around and being silly and revelling in movement can be fun--but what does it represent, what does it imply, this musical culture of casual sexualization?

I believe that what we pretend to do influences what we will do. Our offhand remarks desensitize us to our actions, our actions force us to bend our morals--and our personal Cosmo archives (or, to nod to Frank's post a few days ago, favourite porn sites) make us think about sex in different ways than we otherwise would. So naturally I find an activity totally designed for and comprised of movement that is intended, for whatever reason, to be redolent of the sex act highly suspect. Dance has power; sex also has power. The union of the two, either the apex or a sick parody of natural physicality, should maybe be given more consideration than it is. Because you can only pretend to have sex, to music, for so long; eventually something gives. And, indeed, I'd further suggest that this is also part of the culture. Guys don't like to dance, by and large; they like to pick up. And they do. From the pseudosex which is called dance (and which is made socially acceptable by a metronome attached to a subwoofer) to something else is an intentionally easy transition. No surprising observation here.

Maybe I'm old-fashioned--maybe, as has been suggested, I belong in the 15th century in the employ of the Pope--but I have a problem with that model. I think there's something demeaning about casual sex, and consequently I find something wholly sinister in what constitutes, through the shit-coloured glasses I seem to be wearing this evening, an abuse of the musical form to condone and promote animal depravity. This isn't to say there's anything wrong with casual sex in and of itself; nor should I criticize without experience--I leave clubs alone. But I notice it's strange that club dance is so sexualized. What else is sexualized like this kind of dancing is? What societal role does it fill? Would it be as much fun if it wasn't part of the mechanism I believe it is part of? Imagine clubs were full of people dressed in normal clothes and dancing like they wanted to go have picnics instead of put parts of themselves into one another. Would they still be fun?

I know this kind of emotion isn't really what the blog is intended for. And if you think I'm criticizing you, or your lifestyle--rest assured. I'm not. I just wanted to hear some thoughts on the subject that come from heads not coloured by my specific and personal prejudices. I realize too that I'm riding the same hobby-horse as I was responding to Frank's porn post. It's obviously important to me. So--what do you think? Am I wrong, or should I seek therapy, or what?

3 comments:

Mr. Skylight said...

Brother,

Some guys like to dance. Not all guys like to pick up. Matter of fact, most guys don't. They think they do, because they can't and the grass is always greener on the other side. Women would like for us to think that we all chase them all the time, because it is a self-fulfilling belief that puts more power in their hands. It's all a feminist conspiracy. Get your dance on, but make sure she's clear that she doesn't get to hit that just because you're rubbing up against each other. As the JIgga man says, "too many guys wanna be lovers, don't know what romance is- too many bitches stuck up from too many sexual advances."

That being said, I agree that clubs are silly and I say we start a group therapy session for people that go to clubs more than once a week.

And guys that hook up with girls they meet in clubs.

And girls that hook up with club guys.

In general, guys should learn that it's difficult to be compatible with someone that you meet in a club. Meet people at grocery stores instead-then you can tell if you're going to get along by the contents of their shopping cart. My ideal woman would have juice (not a boring juice, like orange- cranberry, or pomegranate, or maybe mango). She would have sesame seed bagels, but not the lame wonderbread ones, and PB with several types of jam (as well as crackers to dip in the peanut butter if you don't feel like a whole sandwich). 2 litres of 1% milk (2 is excessive, skim is just silly). Bananas are key, romaine lettuce, lil tomatoes and onions, and coffee (the kind you grind yourself in the store). Compare this to the screening process at a club: "that moving object has breasts and/or a vagina. Good enough." Word is bond,

-Frankie Baby

Bernice said...

while i by no means like clubs, i think i understand where the oversexuality and grimy sweatiness of club culture comes from.
we all agree on the funness of both dancing and sex, right? well only one of those things is (kinda) accepted to do in public. the other, has its venues, but for example our great cafeteria is no forum for the latter or a combination of both, whereas i have often partaken in some form of the former. yes, any level of combination of the two is kinda gnarly. however, dancing and sex are two things that as humans we are biologically urged to do. especially when a little liquor flows, the two become easier. (so does combining them). yes, club dancing is gross. but, its also kinda fun, since it represents things we want in probably the only venue we can get away with it short of a bedroom. and to be honest, i dont think any of us have ever gotten away with a private souljaboy when we're not alone under the covers. humans dont necessarily need a place to sexdance, but if one exists, then theyre going to use it. a club dance floor is a place where the culture has made it acceptable to continue itself.

imagine a musician playing a concert where he takes off his shirt during the gig. it ends, and the musician doesnt put his shirt on when he goes to drink at the same bar where he played. he is then told to put his shirt on. this makes sense. he is not supposed to go shirtless just anywhere, no matter how good it feels. theres a venue for it, the stage. it's a violation to do it elsewhere, similar to sexdance. while it may not be a given that a musician is going to do things that are a violation anywhere else like get naked, but musicians do it cause its ridiculous, they want to, it feels good, and its allowed.

demonstrando, club dancing.

I Can't Give You Anything but Love said...

I've done a little more thinking about this. And I went to another club. The beats were hot, the company was good, and I'm starting to look like an eccentric rather than a moron when I dance. Most importantly, the dance floor wasn't a cesspool. It was just a great time, people dancing and having fun with the music and the movement. Most remarkably, people were channelling the fun of the music instead of the sex.

Except as the night went on, this became less and less true. The communication through eye contact became less "I back your ridiculous dancing!" and more "So, did you come with anybody?" More and more guys could be seen obviously following girls around, or trying to dance up on them, and more and more girls asking me if I was gay. (I hate that.) It became a matching game: anyone who had found someone they were satisfied with was making out with them, and everyone else was still looking or waiting in line to get their coats back. And that's when it hit me.

I think anything worth doing in life is hard. And anything worth doing is serious, because the easy, casual things are kinda fun but they devalue the real ones. This is simple economics: if you have too much stuff trading in the market, it isn't worth anything. If you get used to making out with girls in clubs every weekend--or worse--you have nothing special to share with someone you really love. Sex isn't just fun, it's a symbol of union. And if you let your symbols depreciate, your life loses all of its magic. Man cannot live on fun alone.

Frank, you're right. The problem with club culture is just the pickup. And the problem with the pickup is--it's too easy! I refuse to let mathematics, chemistry, and my natural good looks and hysterical dancing prowess do all the work for me.

Which is why I don't get any ass, of course. But I take some weird pride in that.