I adore Robyn’s video for Call Your Girlfriend where she flash-dances and is sad for five minutes but it isn’t something I can physically translate to a dancefloor. I have a good sense of rhythm and love singin’ along but I also have bowlegs, two left feet and bad shoes. Obviously this means my car is a constant discotheque. After a Quarter evening of rolling my eyes and voguing to the Lady Gaga problem I was able to climb into an American-made mom-van and close out the thumping jungle bass. Joker’s dubby take on pop, Joywave’s familiar samples and Dave Sitek’s disco Lykke Li were enough to get me moving on I-10. The surreal pop of Zola Jesus and Active Child were head-clearing and Starfawn’s visceral thump finally got my hands moving and head bobbing. Stay + pushed me over the edge and you should have seen this kid poppin’ seated turns like it was 1982 in Berlin. JJ’s intimacy whispered as I sat in front of my house and let the groove’s build get my feet moving onto the pavement and toward my damn bed.
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Luke Garcia
