Leave it all on the Dance Floor

It’s weird that one of my favourite places to be is in a dark hall with hundreds of strangers, a good night out. Everyone has different definitions of what partying entails, but for me, all I need is a good DJ and a dance floor. The bass rattling in my chest, shoes sticking to the floor, hands in the air. Here is why club culture has a special place in my life.

I kid you not, where two or more members of my family are gathered, at least one member will be cutting shapes (a term generally used to describe someone dancing with passion but has its roots in a dance technique called shuffling, typically paired with the genre of house music). I grew up going to house parties, not the “teen-coming-of-age-high-school-status-defining” type house parties, I’m talking about “the-whole-family-tree-packed-into-one-house” type parties. Uncles barbequing in the garden, aunties organising food in the kitchen and cousins setting up the sound system in the living room. Once every mouth has been fed, the dancefloor opens and it doesn’t close until everyone, no matter how old or how young, has given us at least a two-step (a basic dance that involves stepping from side to side in time with the music).

I reckon this is where my love for the expression of dance was cultivated because it was so much fun seeing my family in a different light. Being a child and seeing the same parents who were just force-feeding me the vegetables, singing along to their favourite songs from their youth and dancing along without missing a beat, presented me with a fuller image of what my parents were like. Watching my teenage siblings, who I thought were too cool for school, dance with no sense of trying to keep up appearances, inspired me! My cousins and I would hop into the dance circle and perform our choreographed routine, and naturally, we were met with a standing ovation every single time. Dance meant freedom. That freedom drifted as I entered adolescence and became trapped within myself. I began to dread a dance circle because I thought I wouldn’t be good enough to keep up with the rest of my family, then I grew up again and remembered that it was never about being the best, my family were going to hype me up regardless of how well I danced – it was about belonging. I know that’s cheesy, but it is so true. It is about having a space where you can be yourself, leaving all pretence behind and having fun in that moment.  These gatherings laid out the foundation for my love of partying, so when I found out that I didn’t have to wait for a family function to dance the night away, I wasted no time at all.

xmas 21’ dance party

I moved to London when I was eighteen for university in 2021, the third covid lockdown had just ended and I was itching to debut the killer moves I practiced alone in my bedroom. Fresher’s week came and went without scratching that itch. I was naïve, I thought that any club I walked into would play what I wanted to hear, but often, I ended the night feeling disappointed after hearing the same old songs that you can’t even dance to (I am guilty of yelling nonsense as if I know the lyrics to the latest UK rap song hehehe). Don’t get me wrong, I had a fair share of fun times, but none of them fully gave what I needed them to give.

Then one night in May 2022 changed it all. My cousin invited me to an event hosted by a collective called “Pulotu Underworld”, they focus on celebrating the sounds from the pacific islands. This is where I saw the DJs Lady Shaka and Half-Queen for the first time. I was elated. I danced so hard that night, my shirt changed colour because it was drenched in sweat (gross, I know, but so much fun). This experience was different to my other nights out for two reasons: the crowd and the DJs. The people who attended the event were also there to party, to dance! In a random club, on a student night out, most people are there to hook-up, which is fine but it’s a very different atmosphere. If I must choose between barely dancing to a basic set to be seen as “attractive”, and becoming feral to the most incredible set I have ever heard, I will pick the latter every single time. And as for DJs, both Lady Shaka and Half-Queen delivered sets that fused music from across the world to design a dancefloor experience that I didn’t want to leave. I have now seen the mentioned DJs a couple times since then because I cannot get enough.

Lady Shaka at Lady Shaka and Friends - 30/06/23

I love it when a DJ’s culture is at the heart of their mix, it invites you into something new. Hearing Lady Shaka start and end her sets with Pacifica anthems, and feeling what that does for the people in the room who share that same culture, is priceless, it is belonging. The freedom that emerges when you know you are seen is unmatched. I encounter this when I get to hear other DJs I love such as Charisse C, who is Zimbabwean, or Vigro Deep, who is South African. Both amplify the infectious tunes from the Southern Africa region, and it hits home. I get that same feeling I felt as a child at our family house parties, that feeling that tells you, you are close to the meaning of life.

Half-Queen at Lady Shaka and Friends - 30/06/23

I think it’s funny to think that I see going out as a form of self-care, but I do. When I’m on that dance floor, surrounded by people who all want to have a good time, fuelled by the music, I can truly forget myself and surrender to the moment. It may be physically exhausting, but I find the whole experience spiritually re-energising. I am often thinking about the future or unpacking my past, so being on the dance floor is one of the few times in my week where I am fully present in the here and now. Is it 5am? Yes. Do I have to go to work in 5 hours? Yes. Will I stay up to hear Half-Queen blend Brazilian funk, amapiano and bashment? Absolutely.

I hope you have a space to dance, whether that be in a crowd at the biggest festival or alone in your kitchen or somewhere in between.

Speak to you soon!