The dancefloor remains a sacred place
Stevie G DJing at the Savoy in the 2000s.
It’s hard to speak about dancing and the dancefloor without sounding a bit trite and clichéd, but we all have our stories about how dancing has helped us escape the world and its complications, even if it’s only for a few hours. As a person who grew up clubbing and DJing, I have my own perspectives on it all, and I definitely have a very romantic view about the dancefloor, a space I’ve been looking at for over 30 years now.
Many people start clubbing in their late teens, but might have experienced the dancefloor previously at kids events, teenage discos or even family occasions. It might not be as dark and underground as the club scene which dominates for many as they get older, but any kind of dancing or physical activity in relation to music can be special. Sadly, the dance music or clubbing scene can be quite snobbish and elite at times, even though most people involved in club culture tend to speak about how it brings people together. In my lifetime of experience, it has done just that, but I can see how many people have been excluded from the party too.
“Music is for everyone” is a familiar mantra, but high entrance fees, age discrimination, strict door policies and many other factors mean it can be tricky trying to negotiate clubbing, even for those who are over the desired age for club owners.
I set up my own ‘Everybody Dance’ platform around the time of covid as I was frustrated that a music industry which always boasts about inclusivity was anything but. It’s aimed mainly at those with additional needs and intellectual disabilities, but it truly is for everybody, and I’ve had countless carers and parents and others tell me how it’s one of the few parties where all are welcome.
Sadly, the clubbing world which myself and others are part of is not always as welcoming as it likes to present, and it’s crucial that more people are invited to the party. ‘Everybody Dance’ is a party that is the antithesis of bling bling VIP room parties that sometimes dominate the landscape of people’s ideal view of what a party should be about.
I’ve been around long enough to remember the Celtic Tiger and many of these events, and they have generally left me cold. Music is a priority for myself and many others, and making people dance is always more important than making people feel superior or elite in a small room far removed from the dancefloor.
I grew up in this utopian dream myself, where I was barely finished going to a few teenage discos in school and Con and Dolphin by the time I was able to go to Redz and then Sir Henrys. I was soon DJing there too, and loved every minute of it. Growing up as a young person dancing to some of the best DJs this country has ever produced (Shane, Greg, Donkeyman, Gina, Fork etc) in a dark minimal place was a wonderful education and I still love clubbing and DJing to this day. We live in a time where culture wars have taken over many conversations online and I’ve spoken to a lot of people who grew up in my era recently about how much simpler it seemed before.
I don’t think it’s just nostalgia to say that no one really gave a damn about what you wore or who you kissed back then. We ran LGBT friendly nights, and welcomed everyone to the dancefloor at a time where homesexuality in Ireland had barely been decriminalised. As migrants started coming in their thousands, we welcomed different cultures and enjoyed changing the shape of what music culture represented in Cork and Ireland. A clubbing scene built on a love of black music that was often created abroad was the obvious place where people would feel welcomed, and the dancefloor was always a safe space.
In 2024 many people and many groups are trying to divide us, but the dancefloor remains a place where we should all remain safe. Governments will come and go and talk up clubbing culture without doing little to support it, but for a few hours on a Friday or Saturday night, we can still dance and be free for a while. For me and others, this remains special!
