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Sunday Soul – Disconnected

Year 11 – Playlist 24/52 – For the week of September 28th 2014

Honestly I feel like I might do better to just skip this week’s essay and get right into the music. I want to connect with you so badly. I want to hear all about everything you’ve been doing, how you’re feeling, and where you’re at. I do… But right now I just feel like it’s time to dance…

I think I dragged my brain behind me, or presented it in a bag ahead of me for the first half of my life. Seems like the only time I ever got free was when I was lost on a dance floor. It’s a strange thing to me because when I “go out dancing” I don’t really do dance moves, and I don’t look around to see who’s there, or who’s looking at me. I definitely don’t “dance” with anyone – I kind of dance with everyone. I feel that the entire dancefloor is mine, and everyone dancing is dancing with me, and I am reaching for the music, and aching for it to move through me. Doesn’t matter if I’m playing a live set, or mixing a DJ set, or if I’ve just ended up in a club and I’m dancing… the music moves through me, and it unites me with everyone around me.

Now sure, I don’t like all the music – personally I am actually fairly particular – and I don’t typically like “club people.” In the sense that loud squawking is obnoxious, and drugs make people either turn into seat cushions or sob like wet noodles, or worse – they get horny… please. I am not interested in talking, fucking, catching up on what happened in the 90’s, or hearing more about your vegan diet, or your new business project. I want to dance. But isn’t it ironic to you that when we dance we feel this great openness? Some sort of connection above and beyond the personal, ego based connection happens. I seem to transcend the individual, and lose a grasp of how annoying each person’s particulars are, and after a while, if it’s a good night, I feel deep and true love for absolutely everyone. From time to time even the cops who show up to shut the party down. As long as the energy leaves the confines of “self” and the enclosure of “ego” then I am down with it, and I have access to it, and I feel free, I feel love, I feel connected.

Maybe you’re not on the same page as me there, I can understand that. DJ’s don’t dance. Guys don’t tend to dance much past the first few dates, and generally speaking the dance floors these days are parsed by people milling around, crossing the club, looking for the bathroom, or trying to get through the sea of people with eight drinks to deliver them to some friends on the other side of the room. So the dance floor isn’t a sacred place right now. I think we may have lost something really important back there on the road, and because the car still runs we haven’t turn around to see what it was.

I’ll never forget a person named Peace. She was boyish and a little confrontational. She’d show up to a basement party in near darkness wearing a dacron vest unsnapped as her shirt, baggy jeans and that’s all. She would dance and dance and dance. Whenever there were guys hitting on dancers she would step right into their faces, clearly and firmly explaining, “Hey! This is a spiritual place. We don’t do that here. If you want to hit on women and disturb their right to dance in peace, then you should go somewhere else.”

What could you say to that? I’m sure some of those guys muttered a few things under their breath, but they certainly cut the crap, or they left. The cool thing was that next week, or next month, those same guys would be back. And this time they’re have let their hair down, and added some love beads, and now they were there to dance. People like Peace changed us, by disconnecting us from our instincts, drives, and subconscious misogyny and other helpless and destructive side effects of the human experience, and asked us to connect from the inside out rather than the outside in.

And yeah, sure I’m idealistic about those early days – I was idealistic about them then, and I remain idealistic about them now – but that doesn’t take anything away from the beautiful connection made between my deepest insides and my outside world experience. New pathways of neurons were formed on those dance floors, and my heart opened wide in a way I never even dreamed it would. And what’s best is that it was never, not for one moment, about my ego, or my profit, or me. It was always about all of us. It was always about the music.

I’ve been saying it a lot lately, and I mean it. Money doesn’t matter. Your job doesn’t matter. Whatever distraction the television, or the internet are offering up doesn’t matter. None of that is important. Only love is important. All that matters in the end is how well you loved, and how far you went with that… Go as far as you can, give all you got, and don’t take any shit from anyone.

Thank you for listening. See you next week.
Love,
Sunshine

Here is the track listing for Sunday Soul: Disconnected

1. A New Life – Jazzy Eyewear
2. Temptation – DJ Ra Soul
3. I Got Your Number – Rayko Dragon Soul Edit – Rayko
4. New York Groove – De Pin Up Club
5. Shake – Funk4Mass
6. Gonna Get Your Love – Extended Edit – Glenn Dale
7. Inside Out – Mondo Disco’s Elektrik Loft Conversion – Aural Graffiti
8. A Girl Called Zara – Toomy Disco
9. Rise For Love – Zister
10. Let’s Work – DJ Ra Soul
11. Firebird – Kitt Zenga
12. Out Of The Funk – Alkalino rework – Dennis Brown
13. Midnight Run – St. Stereo
14. History – Le P
15. Sunday Soul – Program ID
16. Waiting for a Girl Like You – Virgin Magnetic Material Remix – Foreigner
17. Sunday Soul – Program ID

Year 11 – Playlist 24|52
28 September 2014
Total Running Time: 01 Hour 39 Minutes

Buy this music if you love it. Buy it on vinyl. Play it loud. I am curating something personal for the people I love who take the time to listen. If you have feelings and would like to be stricken from the record here, please let me know and I’d be glad to never play your music here again. I’ve been mad about love before, and I totally understand.

May the stars above you shimmer and shine, guiding your heart always, all of the time. May they guide you sweetly, all the way home. And may all your sundays have soul.