To Dance or Not

As I have blogged about before, I am a true Disco Queen. I love house music and dancing to it in heels and my City Girl outfit of the week. Being an East Coast born, Midwest raised girl, I was happy to find my house niche here in DC after a long and arduous search. Believe me when I say, I still had not had enough of Red even as it closed during October of 2005. I spent many a great night there. I danced and sweated my ass off, met the most amazing and interesting people who I am still friends with, took friends and relatives from out of town who still ask about the place, and of course, a DJ saved my life... well, you know how the song goes. And so was the case for Club Five and the Sanctuary on H Street, which is sadly no longer. I was skeptical when my soulful Sunday night house party moved to Dragonfly, and for good reason - it is now closed. I mean really, how do I dance until I'm sweaty at a sushi lounge? When I learned that Eigthteenth Street Lounge (ESL) was continuing the party I was a bit hopeful. There is enough room to dance, the sound system is good, more than one bar, outdoor area, space to escape the crowd if need be, etc. However, my first night there late last year was yet another disappointment in my expectation of a Red experience. ESL is unfortunately another Connecticut Avenue/18th and M club that attracts posers, Eurotrash, and whatever other undesirables who are not about getting their dance on to good music. The space is horrible and there is a strange interplay of sound with the DJ booth on the other side of the club. But what is even worse is the fact that this past Sunday, I was subjected to the most offensive song being played everywhere right now. Rather true or untrue in its internet rumored meaning, Crank That, by the teenage rapper Soulja Boy, is just not something I want to hear or dance to. I have a feeling that this song does fully intend to mean "superman dat ho" as urban legend has it. But as most legends go, it doesn't really matter. The offensive connotation is now out there. And women are always the victims of such nonsense (however, I could just as easily superman a dude as he could to me). So, as you can imagine, I was not expecting this at a house party where all I wanted to do was dance to progressive, liberating music. I was pissed with the DJ who should know better. People who have followed this Sunday night party and who are house music purists, lovers, dancers, etc. just expect more. And given the $10 entrance fee, I will probably not be back.

Sphere: Related Content