Birthday No. 1 Blues #16 - Jack Your Body
I am sixteen years old and Jack Your Body is number 1. Top of the Pops has never felt more like a televised version of Radio Free Europe than at this point. There is no house music in Ceredigion. Dance culture round our way meant one of three things. Firstly the traditional twmpath scene of Young Farmers and WI events. Then there was the fortnightly disco in Tregaron, a truly terrible occasion whereby some local idiot with a PA and some lights would encourage drunken hillmen to brush the silage from their wellies, hit the floor and spill local piss on their piano ties to the sound of Wake Me Up Before You Go Go. Finally there was Aberystwyth. Aber. So good they shortened its name. Nearest fucking town. 18 miles. Two nightclubs. Straight out of Road House the pair of them. You would not be hearing house music there. You’d hear breaking glass, jaws and ambulances but you would not be becoming familiarised with the latest strain of urban American electronica. Not that I could fre...