Saturday Night Coming Up

And so to a song which reminds me, always, of Hel.

When I lived in Cardiff, there was – and probably still is, for all I know – a vibrant dance music scene, with a club night to cater for pretty much every and any taste. Like your shiny happy beats? Off to L’America with you. Fancy popping your trance-trousers on? Then it’s Time Flies for you, you furry boot wearing hedonist.

Looming prominently in those clubbing days for me was Hel, who used to visit Llyr before we started flat-sharing, and both of us after we did, and those nights would invariably coincide with a trip to a club night. Often these would be Old Skool nights (the mis-spelling is mandatory, I believe), generally held in what we believed to be the greatest club in the world, The Emporium – now, sadly closed having lost its ongoing battle with health, safety and fire regulations a long time ago.

Generally, these nights were great fun; a lot of people too old (or right on the cusp of it) to go clubbing anymore, mixing with those youngsters, showing them how it’s done, getting together to dance the night away to some songs from our mis-spent youth.

Except, most of the songs hadn’t really featured in my youth, having done my darndest to ignore the whole dance music scene due to its lack of any guitars.

That said, there were plenty of tunes which I knew and which I realised I really liked and had just forbidden myself from liking at the time. Such as tonight’s tune.

This got dropped at one such night; Hel had gone to visit the ladies’ room and manged to get back to us on the dance floor just as it mixed into the next one.

And this became a recurring theme. The tune didn’t get played that much, but just like you can be sure your team will score the moment you pop to the loo, so it was that you could guarantee that if it did get played, Hel would be otherwise engaged.

And so it became something of a running joke. When at home playing tunes, I would often wait until she had just locked the bathroom door, estimated when she would be just taking up position, before skipping to play it.

I don’t think we ever got to dance to it in a club environment, although a few years ago, the singer did appear at a mini-festival thing in South London. She did three songs: her other hit (which I didn’t recognise), a cover version (of something I don’t remember), and this – a stone-cold classic if ever I heard one.


Alison Limerick – Where Love Lives (Perfecto Remix)

More soon.