Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE 

146. Determination by Dean Parrish

MISTER WHITEHEAD, a balding, lanky, short fused stereotypical PE teacher, introduced me to the adolescent delights of dancing in his aerobics class. Get Up and Boogie was the track that stirred things up.

No idea what the goo in my shorts was, but thought I'd better keep it to myself. I was already called a wanker quite a lot. I hated PE and was truly gutted when those classes ended and I had to try my hand at Rugby instead. 

It's fair to say there's always been that same crazed element to my dancing. Crazed and slightly off key. Mastering dancing comes after lots of internal counting, which forces a remove from the listening experience making it cerebral. I like an instantaneous hit to both my ears and body. No remove and no mastery. And no brainpower. 

I struggle with the northern soul dancers in the now, but love sense stirring tunes like this more than ever. The old folk wear the same tops as dart players and the young folk dance impassionately like line dancers. There was a time in a sweat soaked mecca when appreciation for 60s soul sides like this was dead cool when folk were actually living for it. Or in the nineties when Baldie was doing his thing.

I take my dancing inspiration from Mister Whitehead's wonky aerobics class, who could see despite my ability I appreciated his music. Thankfully, not realizing quite how much.