The Drum and the Bass.

[Having chosen this title, part of me wishes the post was about a fishing trip where I caught a Bass and perhaps saw a drum floating by in the sea. As will become obvious, this is not what has happened.]

J of the French couple fame is leaving the house. This is a shame. However it did mean a going away party. We had a BBQ* in the back garden and drank, in descending order of quantities, Stella, Wine, Pastis and Vodka. After the BBQ we went to a Drum and Bass club, as chosen by the departing J. We got back at 3 am, and I am, needless to say, feeling completely ruined today. I was singing to Fall Out Boy’s ‘thnks fr th mmrs’ embarrassingly loudly on my walk in. Oh the fun of alcohol lasting till the morning.

I’ve never been to a real drum and bass night before, and can report that I was pleasantly surprised. It was kind of like speeded up rock music. I found it hard to dance to as it’s so fast. Rock music is good, as the beat fits our anthropometrics (whey-hey! anyone having that?)- you can nod your head, jump up and down, tap your hand on the bar – and all these things seem to happen naturally and easily within the timeframe set out by the beat. For Drum and Bass, they’ve got 4 or sometimes 8 beats in the space that there’s one for Rock. If you nodded your head you’d look really silly, and probably strain your neck. Gravity isn’t strong enough to fit a jump into time with the drum, and hand tapping that fast just isn’t enjoyable.

Once I was drunk though, I started to get it. I tried to dance faster than normal and to get with every two beats. Occasionally I tried to get every beat, by moving alternative arms on each beat, or doing some small karate-chop type things I saw some of the regulars doing. Luckily, I couldn’t actually see myself, so (in my head at least) can only assume I was looking good.

The MC wasn’t what I had expected either. I thought he’d be just saying stuff up the front like, ‘Come on Plymouth’ ‘Yeah’ ‘Yeah’ ‘One love(!)’ etc, but he was almost singing - making a load of really fast noise over the music. My other French housemate T, who struggles with his English, was saying something over the noise,

‘I can’t understand what he says, its too fast’

and I was replying,

‘Mate, its not your English, I can’t him understand either’

My housemate L upstairs was really good at dancing, she was pulling all sorts of moves id never even seen before, and somehow she overcame the limits of speed my body was struggling with.

Im glad I went though, its good to understand what other people are into, even if its not your first choice. Plus, its not every night you go to a club in a Bus Station, and for that alone it was better than a night in the cheesy chart music type place.

*We have been trying out different makes of disposable BBQ, and last nights effort from Asda scored the lowest yet, despite being a relatively hefty £1.80. So far, the ranking in terms of maximum heat output and duration has been Sainsburys, Morrisons, Aldi, Trago Mills then Asda. The cheapest is Trago Mills at 89p each. That is a brilliant BBQ bargain.