"Dance, dance and more dance..." (quote from the !JP song Two Lovers Who Seize To Be)
A long time ago, and it was the 90s, there was a constant dance event. And it just happens to be, although a lot of people consider me punk and not a part of any dance-movement at all, I happened to be a part of that.
Our weekly club-outing happened in Amsterdam in a tiny, little club called iT. It was a time of freedom, extreme relaxation (hello, XTC pills) and sexual equality (hello, Herpes!). Every punk (-ish) album I made since 1997, was in a way based on that amount of liberty we experienced. The beats the best DJ's in the world (the ones we now hail are nothing compared to what went on there, I dare to say) became the ground base of the weird little drum and bass riffs we used in our avant-garde songs. Even today, when I listen back to old tapes (yes, it was that long ago!) we bootlegged in that club - before the club saw a commercial window and started to release their very own soundtracks - I hear inspiration for songs I already made and songs I still want to create. (Does this make any sence?)
Anyway, when I was contacted by Christ'Off for this remix of #tcoams, I was exillerated, I was thrilled! It gave me the opportunity to turn back to those unlikely roots I launched this entire career on. The beats! The beats!
I have to admit: times have changed. The social thing we had in those days has been replaced by this on-line presence. People are more connected to their phones than to each other. They may all be in the same place, true, but the connection - the connection that counts, that is - is shared with thousands (except for me; I'm haemorrhaging "likes" and "followers" as we speak - and I'm not even sad about it, you guys!) of unknown, uninterested people we like to call "our friends". Our communities have been digitalized. And that's not a good thing.
We need to reach out to real people more and more often. And back in the 90s we did exactly that in the clubs. We need to reinvent ourselves as caring people once more. We need to visit the clubs, open ourselves up to unusual music (preferably mine) and dance with actual human beings without being concerned about our on-line status and checking our phones every twenty seconds.
I was at a café the other day and the sign on the door said: "sorry, we have no wifi. Try talking to each other. Pretend it's 1995!" and I thought that was the most important message for this age. Turn off that phone, talk to each other, visit one another, dance with each other.
Now, I am not saying I will do another run of a thing like "The Open Cock Ring Disco," like I did way back in the 90s. I mean, seriously, I am 40-something, my hair is grey, my face is wrinkly and thanks to a life-long lasting restraining order, I am not allowed to be more close to cocaine and XTC than 500 feet. Plus: I am tired. But I do still feel the urge to connect people through music and dance.
So let's dance. Dance, dance and more dance...
XO
#JK
P.S. the photo's (obviously the pre-chest hair era) used in this (heartfelt) letter, came from both the files of iT, and the files of JK. Though I did try to think back very, very hard, I cannot remember whoever was behind the camera, pushing the take-photo-now-button. I'm sorry! But as I stated before: I am 40-something, grey, wrinkly and perhaps someone without detailed memory. Plus: I might throw myself onto a Viagra-pill pretty soon... That's the state I'm currently in...
(thank you, Jan Greeve, for chasing people with your camera, thank you Manfred, for everything. You're still missed.)
Our weekly club-outing happened in Amsterdam in a tiny, little club called iT. It was a time of freedom, extreme relaxation (hello, XTC pills) and sexual equality (hello, Herpes!). Every punk (-ish) album I made since 1997, was in a way based on that amount of liberty we experienced. The beats the best DJ's in the world (the ones we now hail are nothing compared to what went on there, I dare to say) became the ground base of the weird little drum and bass riffs we used in our avant-garde songs. Even today, when I listen back to old tapes (yes, it was that long ago!) we bootlegged in that club - before the club saw a commercial window and started to release their very own soundtracks - I hear inspiration for songs I already made and songs I still want to create. (Does this make any sence?)
Anyway, when I was contacted by Christ'Off for this remix of #tcoams, I was exillerated, I was thrilled! It gave me the opportunity to turn back to those unlikely roots I launched this entire career on. The beats! The beats!
We need to reach out to real people more and more often. And back in the 90s we did exactly that in the clubs. We need to reinvent ourselves as caring people once more. We need to visit the clubs, open ourselves up to unusual music (preferably mine) and dance with actual human beings without being concerned about our on-line status and checking our phones every twenty seconds.
I was at a café the other day and the sign on the door said: "sorry, we have no wifi. Try talking to each other. Pretend it's 1995!" and I thought that was the most important message for this age. Turn off that phone, talk to each other, visit one another, dance with each other.
Now, I am not saying I will do another run of a thing like "The Open Cock Ring Disco," like I did way back in the 90s. I mean, seriously, I am 40-something, my hair is grey, my face is wrinkly and thanks to a life-long lasting restraining order, I am not allowed to be more close to cocaine and XTC than 500 feet. Plus: I am tired. But I do still feel the urge to connect people through music and dance.
So let's dance. Dance, dance and more dance...
XO
#JK
P.S. the photo's (obviously the pre-chest hair era) used in this (heartfelt) letter, came from both the files of iT, and the files of JK. Though I did try to think back very, very hard, I cannot remember whoever was behind the camera, pushing the take-photo-now-button. I'm sorry! But as I stated before: I am 40-something, grey, wrinkly and perhaps someone without detailed memory. Plus: I might throw myself onto a Viagra-pill pretty soon... That's the state I'm currently in...
(thank you, Jan Greeve, for chasing people with your camera, thank you Manfred, for everything. You're still missed.)