Last Saturday I went dancing with my friends Carlos and Laura. Carlos' enthusiasm for a night at the Echo called Funky Soul instigated our outing. I don't remember the last time I went dancing.
We arrived at the venue shortly after its opening at 10 pm. The place was relatively empty. We watched from a banquette in the corner as people filtered in. They entered the club and upon reaching the dancefloor immediately started to dance. Not a shy rev-up with a drink in hand, these people were pulling shapes - throwing legs and arms with complete abandon. We spotted a guy by the bar whose facial hair and outfit would qualify him as an honorary member of Yellow Submarine era Beatles. He stood by a girl wearing white tights and a Jan Brady style white minismock. I admitted to Carlos and Laura that I wish I had worn white jeans.
It didn't take long for us to spring into action. We chose a spot by the stage and started dancing. We didn't stop until sweaty.
Throughout the night, clips of Soul Train graced a screen placed on the stage. We watched as couples dressed in their craziest clobber worked their way down the Soul Train Line. At one point a very tall, thin man appeared on the screen wearing bell-bottoms, sweater vest, dress shirt and a bow-tie that was nearly as wide as his shoulders. A massive halo of hair adorned his head. He dropped to the ground in rhythm and sprung up effortlessly with a smile stretched across his face.
I saw a man at the other end of the club, again, with a Yellow Submarine look - except he had a slight air of Lemmy from Motorhead. I leaned into Laura's ear and said "Look, another Yellow Submarine Guy!" I realized later that it was actually the same guy.