borrelli told me to listen to this: metric – fantasies
I’m listening to albums that Borrelli has recommended and posting my thoughts and feelings and snappy witticisms and paranoid conspiracy theories about those albums here.
I am not a dancing man. I am not comfortable with my body. I am not adept at initiating and modulating the sorts of gyrations and undulations required for the act. I don’t have the guts to just get out of my own head and thrash kick and gesticulate in the presence of other human beings. I have a limited repertoire of motions, and I coordinate them just clumsily enough that I seem to be constantly tripping and falling through life. Sherry likes to think she can make me dance by pouring rye into me, but she’s really just relaxing my muscles and deadening my flinch reflexes so she can drag me around for an hour while I sway.
I am not a dancing man.
But sometimes in the evening I put this album on and I get a brief dose of that focused rhythmic energy that people who dance seem to be able to tap at will, and for a few minutes, while only the dog can see me, I dance.
