BOB SINCLAR - WESTERN DREAM
I cannot listen to this album….it brings back hideous memories of being awake for days, eating icy poles and going to clubs at 7am...It also prompts vivid recollections of what I thought was an irregular heart beat brought on by too many red bulls. It’s been a long time since I drank red bull or went to day clubs. Amen to that.
Its a great album, good for getting ready or in my case coming undone. I remember the specific day when this became a record I wouldn’t listen to for the next 5 years. While I was poor, clubbing came first so I called the promoter of a trance night, told her I was in marketing (kind of not so much of a lie yet) and I had two developers up from Melbourne keen to check out the club because they’d heard so much about it and may be interested in opening something similar...blah blah..etc etc...she put our names on the door and off we went. I’d never been there before but I found it semi alarming that the front entrance had been damaged the week before in a drive by shooting. I was also curious about the metal detector at the door because stabbing’s were so common. Nice. Retrospect is best used a minimum 4 years after stupid periods in your life. Any sooner and you’d give yourself wrinkles from all the cringing. I think its safe to ask what the hell was I thinking. Also safe to say, I want thinking. This, it seems is what your 20’s are for. Eradicating brain cells and taking risks.
So, after the night of trance, a day club till 10am and a nauseating walk home past the Harbour Bridge. I remember finally getting to my front door willing it to open faster than the 3 seconds it took. Collapsing on the carpet, Western Dream played on repeat for 8 hours...and the song I can’t handle the most is World, Hold On. French house emotes a sense of togetherness peppered with seclusion (that makes sense to me) like we’re all here in this big room dancing but alone. That’s how I felt on the lounge room floor getting up 3 times to shower and dry retch. Secluded and alone. There weren’t many more weekends like that. I believe the psychosis brought on by Bob Sinclar planted a seed that would soon become: sensibility.
It’s been real traveling down memory lane Mr Sinclar but this record in going back to the dusty shelf it was pulled from for a long time yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment