errantember

Peter Murphy @ Emos 7-11-2008

While a ten plus year veteran of the Gothic/Industrial scene, I can't say I've made it a priority to follow the seminal career of Peter Murphy. I've danced countless times to "Cuts You Up," and was aware that Murphy's fame came originally from Bauhaus, even if "Bela Lugoci's Dead" was the only song from that era that I could name off the top of my head. I almost missed Murphy this time around, a last minute tip from a friend averting disaster.

I was surprised to see someone as well-known as Murphy playing somewhere as small as Emos. The seemingly undersized venue was nothing but good for the small army of devoted fans that packed the hall. Easy spaces were available less than 10 feet from the stage throughout the show. Murphy was in fine form, with an arresting stage presence that slowly insinuated its way deep inside your pants. Perhaps the most visibly gay person ever to grace a stage, his snakelike, entrancing movements provided an excellent example to the repressed among us of how to let go.
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So I had two major revelations tonight while dancing. The first is that the worldwide Gothic community is collectively a bunch of assholes for not making it more clear that dancing in huge leather boots is a total riot. Come ON people! For years footwear has been the major Fashion Failing(tm) of mine, I've generally worn very conservative, non-sexy penny-loafer type dance shoes because at least they were black, they fit, and they were great to dance in. Finding decent boots in my size is difficult, especially if you're as cheap as I am, but tonight all that changed! I found a decent set of size 12 1/2W Doc Martin knock-offs at Thrift Town for $25. They even had cushioned insoles already installed. I though they would be clunky and awkward, but BOY WAS I WRONG! They are definitely a little harder to lift and snap around, but my overall nimbleness increased substantially because of the lower center of gravity and the wider moment of inertia. This is especially true because I'm so into spins. There were times tonight I didn't stop spinning for two, maybe three songs. Hot diggity DAMN! By the time the night was over I was dancing with every sexual preference on earth, my lack of skilz dancing with other people notwithstanding. In a rare moment of my mouth getting me in trouble WITHOUT being open, I accidentally chin-butted one person. She stopped dancing with me immediately.
This brings me to the second revelation. Like many men, I've often been frustrated by the fact that many women seem turned off by direct come-ons. It's not that I'm not capable of more subtlety, in fact I generally move fairly slowly, but there are times when the whole mating dance thing is

We'll stop here for a moment to note that while the Boots are little godletts on the dance floor, they are NOT easy to remove. They need some kind of special name anyway.

Moving on...

...simply too complex, subtle, and generally goal-preventing. However, tonight, somewhere amidst all the posing, leaping, and crawling around on the floor, it came to me that the thing *I* didn't like about a lot of male come-ons is not necessarily because they're fast, or direct, or even that I'm not interested, it's that they're DRUNK and ARTLESS. There's just no beauty there. No intrigue. No bidirectional communication. Add to this either false or no confidence, and you have a fairly unconditionally lo(HOO-HOO-HOOser)sing proposition. Perhaps the ladies in the crowd can confirm or deny I'm on the right track here.

So my tip to men is, fast might be ok, but you have to be sober enough to detect the edge of the envelope you're pushing, graceful enough to be interesting, and confident enough for it not to seem like your at a fucking high school prom.

Ok. I'm done being gay now.

It's time for bed.