Late Night Blues

My brain has been dead since the weekend. Why? Because I went to a 'blues' dance and didn't make it home until 8am. (Don't look at me like that!) What can I say, I was enjoying myself. Despite the fact that I wore the Gwen Stefani toe-cleavage, cone-heeled shoes which started hurting after just an hour. I couldn't resist them, they look sooo good. But when you're not the driver, all you can do it grin and bear it. And drink to numb the pain. Not too much mind, just enough to take the edge off the burning sensation in the sole of your foot.

The rave was in Canning Town, east London, otherwise known as 'foreign'. All the usual DJ suspects were there, Mistri (how old are you now?), Desi G, Barry White, and TLC playing soul music from back in the day, and some newer stuff. The ground floor was the hyper room, playing hip-hop and reggae. Elephant Man's tune 'Willie Bounce' fired up the danceflo'. And everyone was bussin' the dance that goes with it. Except me that is. For a minute I felt like a white person in Jamaica observing the locals. But then I realised it was the same dance me and Suzie Wong had been trying to copy from Sean Paul's newest video, so started doing it like it was simple tings. When in Rome. Everyone was laughing and having a go, it's so wicked when a new reggae dance drops, and everyone is bussin' it, people are tipsy, and there's pure vibes in the dance. Fuck all y'all who don't rave, you don't know what you're missing. Well you do now.

Upstairs was the rare groove room. Usually if someone says come to a rare groove dance, I start flicking through my TV Guide and ready my spot on the couch. Some of the tunes they play just get on my bloody nerves. They play the same ones over and over again, like Barbara Streisand and Barry Gibb's Guilty which always gets a rewind. Enough already. But on Saturday they played TUNE. Tunes which, if you don't go to raves like these, you will not hear anywhere else.

People sing along to the popular tunes. For those three minutes, it's like we almost believe we can sing the tune as good as Mary or Faith. Even the guys. If you're nursing a broken heart, you sing it with feeling, hug your friend, and smile that knowing smile. There's a tune for every form of heartbreak, "I Can Love You Better Than She Can", "You Said He Was Your Boyfriend, But He Wasn't Last Night", "You Don't Have To Cry No More", "You're The One", "Cos We Have Nothing To Be Guilty Of" - and on the list goes.

Going to a 'blues' dance is a part of a black teenagers' rite of passage. And judging from the handful of white girls up in the place, it's fast becoming theirs too. What a contribution we've made to society, who knew white people would be able to reverse the lack of rhythm they were blighted by for centuries. Morris dancing doesn't count (thanks S).

I went to my first blues dance with Suzie Wong 13 years ago. I'd come from the hip-hop scene, and going to a blues dance was like 'foreign' to me. Back then, any social celebration, wedding, christening, funeral, was followed by a blues dance. You had to dress up. Trash and ready. You know, proper clothes, dress, skirt, shoes. Men in suits. The girl's still dress up, as for the men.....

Despite the fact that they're not held in the best of venues, with people usually crammed in cheek to jowl which results in beef (between the girls), and it always too hot, hence the constant fanning with a flyer, they're a little piece of black history. A tradition passed from mother to daughter, father to son. I rave the way my mum used to. You don't leave your house until 2am, you drink brandy and champagne, and don't come home til' mornin'.

I used to watch my mum getting dressed up to go to Q Club, and Embassy. Putting on her frock, shoes and Mary Quant black cherry lipstick. When she came in she would put on the rice and peas and go to sleep for a bit. No matter what, the chicken, rice and peas was on the table. And now I do the same. Except for the rice and peas bit, what can I say I'm English! On Sunday after six hours sleep, I was up at 2pm, washed the school uniform, cleaned the house, put on the dinner, did Clarke's hair, and supervised the homework. *Karen White plays Superwoman in the background*

At the dance I heard a record that I really love , I have no idea who it's by. It's called "All For Your Love". "If I had a million dollars, I would give it all to you, I would cross a million mountains for your love baby it's true, honey... I do it all, baby, all for your love, all for l-ove.." Big. Tune. For me, hearing that record was worth the long-ass drive, five hours of foot pressure, minor girl beef (bigger-assed bitch trying to bounce me out my space), and getting a blob of chewing gum stuck on the backside of my favourite TopShop, exposed back, black wrap dress. Yes, the tune's that good.