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BEATS OF LOVE

83. Dance Your Way Home: A Journey Through the Dancefloor by Emma Warren

AFTER A humbling email exchange with top-tier author Emma about her work-in-progress, I’m thrilled that the final book is every bit as brave and moving as I’d hoped.

Having read Jockey Slut religiously, I already knew of Emma. Yet, when we first bonded, she was just a cool, nameless fixture in the freezing Sankeys courtyard, trance-dancing to John McCready’s delightful dubby techno. I assumed she was his girlfriend. Bugged Out hadn’t quite found its feet yet, and the main room's "underground house" didn't feel all that underground. That courtyard, however, was dance fire to the faithful.

Thankfully, Emma became part of my wider Bugged Out circle. Over time, we even danced gleefully to one of my favourites, She Comes In Colours. I was in awe of her; here was someone miffed about not editing Jockey Slut’s hip-hop section, who would then turn me onto Peter Tosh in a brilliantly no-nonsense manner.

My most abiding memory of Emma is from a Friday tea-time when Jeff Mills was playing at E-Bloc. Arriving early, I watched an all-male convention of chin-stroking train spotters file past. Deciding Mills felt a bit too cold and over-analytical, I left to rifle through the racks at M1 Records next door. Then I saw Emma. She enthusiastically waded straight through the crowd toward the counter. I debated whether to say hello, but I just smiled to myself and left.

That fearlessness epitomises Emma. I wish I’d known sooner how sparingly but brilliantly she extracts history from her own personal footprint, a skill this book effortlessly demonstrates. You learn so much from her refreshing, accessible style. I also wish I’d understood the profound psychological and communicative importance of dancing. I suppose none of us truly did until reading this wonderful book.