Southport at the very end of September was - as it usually is - a scorcher. The sun shone, light winds cooled and dancers were outside dancing until 2am.It had as fine a collection of dancers as you will find anywhere largely because the Scots were there in numbers. Not as many Scots as usual but then there were fewer people overall.
They missed a treat - a fine collection of DJs on top form: Chris Uren, Dave Rokov, Garry Turner, Sheena Assiph and Paul Foster thrilled the room on Saturday as the sun blazed down. It's one of the oddities of DJing that some of the same DJs took up a similar challenge the next day and the whole thing felt a world away from what happened the day before (others loved it so this is obviously a personal view) I felt as the music got louder and faster it chased a buzz rather than creating one. .
All of that said I have one gripe about Southport afternoons: I hear too little of Keiran Moore. His sets that nestle in the depths of the sleepy early morning do no justice to the range and energy of a fine DJ: a man who got relentless applause two years ago when he out-bounced Tigger. His repuation for mellow excellence has become a weight round his neck. Bring him back to the bright light and the world will be a more energetic place in the day and still a smooth one by night too I'll wager.
The accomodation at Southport has been overhauled, refurbished and renovated - our Classic Plus chalet had fungi growing in it.
Southport carries a heavy round of socialising which takes so much of a toll on Friday and Saturday that it is all I can do, on Sunday, to enjoy a few mouthfuls of wine and a scant crumb or two of cheese in a brief stop with a few introvert friends. Those moments of quiet and civilised repose are worth a lot in the barking mad world of dance: it's almost like the cloistered calm of the monk's cell...almost...
For those who find the dancefloor too crowded at Southport - and it can be there's more repose to be found at The Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust Reserve at Martin Mere, just the other side of Southport. Here in the Autumn, tens of thousands of Pink Footed Geese arrive from the Artic and settle in easy viewing distance. Their quiet grace and calm makes the perfect antidote to the Southport main room...
errrm just a minute that's not right.....
At Breeze in Brean it was - not for the first time - largely about rain and venturing out in the cold and/or wet to dance. The Blues competition at this event (indeed at any event) is of little interest to me: it makes all the sense of competitive water-colour painting. As I said here I really don't know what Blues dancing is, any more than I know what ballet music is...
When I did venture out: the music was terrific - the Sack the DJ sets shone through as did - on Sunday afternoon the magnificent sense of "the room buzzing" which John Baker achieves like some sort of magician. It was pure dancing: crowded, fast and extravagant. Later Tom Arkle and Brett Stewart combined in an explosion of energy which convinced me that this is what is lacking in main room - a vital spark - or if not for everyone, it could work in a chill out room which is dancing itself into a middle of the road slump Brett and Tom even for 30 minutes would shift convention some way I think.
Ironically the Ceroc version of chilled out moves too quickly too often - even specific Blues sets are often not slow enough for me. Slow is what is needed to test the mettle and challenge the dancer's mood. It's come to the point where I struggle to think where I am going to get an hour of slow dancing now - anywhere in the country you can think of?
Champagne was drunk with some absolutely fabulous people: it helped.
Camber had very little in common with Brean or Southport except the local RSPB reserve is closer - I spent a good deal of time there during the day.
I danced for about 15 minutes in the fast room in total. Watching dancers in the main room on Saurday night was errmmm interesting: in the same way watching the bull run in Pamplona is interesting if you're on a balcony far above the danger. I winced at big moves in tight spaces where backs were unsupported in drops, legs were lifted in drops, shoulders were wrenched and necks jolted and generally a group of dancers were banging into each other with little or no concern or spatial awareness or consideration or apology. Barging has become a new Ceroc move. Standing on your neighbours foot was common place and few seem to apologise for it any more. One Ceroc stalwart described Camber as the beginners weekender: I'd agree if there was any level of beginner's caution. To me it's more like a mad free for all - what few rules there are about safety are not heeded. Suddenly the WCS idea of competancy based entry seems like a good idea (though for completely different reasons).
And from about 3am these dancers come down to the chill out room and maintain their fast pace and bad habits in a room that should be adapted to grace and not pace. The quality of the experience there drops as their numbers rise and as the DJ's try to meet them half way with faster music. At one point the dance floors in the Chill Out Room, the mian room and the new dance floor in the Pub were all playing medium fast music. Ceroc does have to cater to the needs of the majority: but it does seem to me that a uniform diet of music creates a uniform kind of dancer: vanilla in styling. The slow dancers I used to watch don't come to Camber any more - as a weekend of chilled out dancing it is not on people's horizons. For Ceroc I imagine that's not a problem.
There were great sets were under-appreciated I think - Dave Rokov, Garry Turner, Dale St Rose, Keiran Moore (again compromised by scheduling) - in the pub Mark Kerr shone brightly. Three hours of medium paced musak saw people drifting away on Sunday morning: on Sunday afternoon 90 minutes of ElectroSwing - 2 DJ sets where sacking should have been in order but it wasn't done - saw people talking and not dancing.
I'm not a skilled dancer in any way - but I do feel a great lift in my spirits sometimes when I dance. I rate a weekend on how often that happens - I had some super dances at Camber but there were too many times when my spirits sank looking at the prospects around me. Funnily enough it was the younger people there who gave me greatest sense of hope - fewer in number than at any weekender I've attended this year - they are a good bunch: more discriminating musically and in the main more considerate and safer than many of the older people who were there.
They missed a treat - a fine collection of DJs on top form: Chris Uren, Dave Rokov, Garry Turner, Sheena Assiph and Paul Foster thrilled the room on Saturday as the sun blazed down. It's one of the oddities of DJing that some of the same DJs took up a similar challenge the next day and the whole thing felt a world away from what happened the day before (others loved it so this is obviously a personal view) I felt as the music got louder and faster it chased a buzz rather than creating one. .
All of that said I have one gripe about Southport afternoons: I hear too little of Keiran Moore. His sets that nestle in the depths of the sleepy early morning do no justice to the range and energy of a fine DJ: a man who got relentless applause two years ago when he out-bounced Tigger. His repuation for mellow excellence has become a weight round his neck. Bring him back to the bright light and the world will be a more energetic place in the day and still a smooth one by night too I'll wager.
The accomodation at Southport has been overhauled, refurbished and renovated - our Classic Plus chalet had fungi growing in it.
Southport carries a heavy round of socialising which takes so much of a toll on Friday and Saturday that it is all I can do, on Sunday, to enjoy a few mouthfuls of wine and a scant crumb or two of cheese in a brief stop with a few introvert friends. Those moments of quiet and civilised repose are worth a lot in the barking mad world of dance: it's almost like the cloistered calm of the monk's cell...almost...
For those who find the dancefloor too crowded at Southport - and it can be there's more repose to be found at The Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust Reserve at Martin Mere, just the other side of Southport. Here in the Autumn, tens of thousands of Pink Footed Geese arrive from the Artic and settle in easy viewing distance. Their quiet grace and calm makes the perfect antidote to the Southport main room...
errrm just a minute that's not right.....
At Breeze in Brean it was - not for the first time - largely about rain and venturing out in the cold and/or wet to dance. The Blues competition at this event (indeed at any event) is of little interest to me: it makes all the sense of competitive water-colour painting. As I said here I really don't know what Blues dancing is, any more than I know what ballet music is...
When I did venture out: the music was terrific - the Sack the DJ sets shone through as did - on Sunday afternoon the magnificent sense of "the room buzzing" which John Baker achieves like some sort of magician. It was pure dancing: crowded, fast and extravagant. Later Tom Arkle and Brett Stewart combined in an explosion of energy which convinced me that this is what is lacking in main room - a vital spark - or if not for everyone, it could work in a chill out room which is dancing itself into a middle of the road slump Brett and Tom even for 30 minutes would shift convention some way I think.
Ironically the Ceroc version of chilled out moves too quickly too often - even specific Blues sets are often not slow enough for me. Slow is what is needed to test the mettle and challenge the dancer's mood. It's come to the point where I struggle to think where I am going to get an hour of slow dancing now - anywhere in the country you can think of?
Champagne was drunk with some absolutely fabulous people: it helped.
Camber had very little in common with Brean or Southport except the local RSPB reserve is closer - I spent a good deal of time there during the day.
I danced for about 15 minutes in the fast room in total. Watching dancers in the main room on Saurday night was errmmm interesting: in the same way watching the bull run in Pamplona is interesting if you're on a balcony far above the danger. I winced at big moves in tight spaces where backs were unsupported in drops, legs were lifted in drops, shoulders were wrenched and necks jolted and generally a group of dancers were banging into each other with little or no concern or spatial awareness or consideration or apology. Barging has become a new Ceroc move. Standing on your neighbours foot was common place and few seem to apologise for it any more. One Ceroc stalwart described Camber as the beginners weekender: I'd agree if there was any level of beginner's caution. To me it's more like a mad free for all - what few rules there are about safety are not heeded. Suddenly the WCS idea of competancy based entry seems like a good idea (though for completely different reasons).
And from about 3am these dancers come down to the chill out room and maintain their fast pace and bad habits in a room that should be adapted to grace and not pace. The quality of the experience there drops as their numbers rise and as the DJ's try to meet them half way with faster music. At one point the dance floors in the Chill Out Room, the mian room and the new dance floor in the Pub were all playing medium fast music. Ceroc does have to cater to the needs of the majority: but it does seem to me that a uniform diet of music creates a uniform kind of dancer: vanilla in styling. The slow dancers I used to watch don't come to Camber any more - as a weekend of chilled out dancing it is not on people's horizons. For Ceroc I imagine that's not a problem.
There were great sets were under-appreciated I think - Dave Rokov, Garry Turner, Dale St Rose, Keiran Moore (again compromised by scheduling) - in the pub Mark Kerr shone brightly. Three hours of medium paced musak saw people drifting away on Sunday morning: on Sunday afternoon 90 minutes of ElectroSwing - 2 DJ sets where sacking should have been in order but it wasn't done - saw people talking and not dancing.
I'm not a skilled dancer in any way - but I do feel a great lift in my spirits sometimes when I dance. I rate a weekend on how often that happens - I had some super dances at Camber but there were too many times when my spirits sank looking at the prospects around me. Funnily enough it was the younger people there who gave me greatest sense of hope - fewer in number than at any weekender I've attended this year - they are a good bunch: more discriminating musically and in the main more considerate and safer than many of the older people who were there.
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