Back in October I went to Slake with some friends for the Lowtemp label showcase.
Dreamers Delight had the post-headliner late night spot that doesn’t really exist except in the world of electronic shows that go until 4am. What had been a sweaty, dancing mass of a few hundred people dwindled to about 10 people at 3am when headliners Noisy Freaks were over. And I won’t lie to you, it was strange.
There were a few of us just dancing around normally, albeit more emphatically than before, as if trying to fill up the spaces created by the since-departed crowd. But there was also the topless guy who was no more than 5 feet tall with a huge mop of curly hair, shiny red leggings and a jingly belly dancer scarf wrapped around his waist, doing contortionist-level backbends. He was very generous with his jingle wrap, occasionally tying it around other people and then dancing around them, encouraging them to jingle their hips back and forth. There was also the guy who came up to me, slowly stretching his arms back and forth in front of him as if doing a solo interpretive dance. He never spoke to me, but I assume he wanted me to join him, and so the two of us danced around the floor like woodland nymphs, often standing facing each other and mirroring each other’s moves.
I had had zero drinks that night and so I felt a little self-conscious, dancing in such a sparse yet intimate crowd with a DJ who was just a few feet away from us. But still, something about it was sort of freeing. There was a comfort in being a part of this group of people who threw their hands in the ay-yurr, waved them like they just didn’t cay-yurr.
For that night, my 2 friends and all those randoms, those were my weirdos.
Everyone who likes to go out dancing has to have their weirdos. Your weirdos can be your friends or your significant others or even, at times, strangers in jingly belly dancer wraps. They are the people you can do your best (and worst) moves in front of, or even just your average moves, and not care. They are the people that make any night out dancing fun, even if the music is not actually all that great.
Your weirdos will do jazz hands with you, every time this Gramatik song comes on:
Your weirdos will understand that sometimes it’s more fun dancing in the back of a crowd where there’s more room, instead of closer to the stage where you can barely lift your arms. Bonus points if you and your weirdos dance chase each other around in a circle during a Slow Magic show, while your friend is obliviously engaged in conversation with some random in the middle of it all.
Sometimes you and your weirdos aren’t even that weird, and that’s okay too. Sometimes it lies dormant and you just want to do that white girl thing where you just sort of shake your hips a little but not too much.
The important thing is that the ability to just let loose is there when you need it, and that the people you can let loose with are there when you need them.
So I urge you all to find your weirdos. Don’t let them go. And then do an overly emphatic shoulder shimmy to let them know you appreciate them.