Drowning in Love. Living in Light. Never start too early they say. If you start to early, you peak too early and that there is the struggle: As the minutes twist to hours, you’re suddenly left overwhelmed by this sinking realisation, that ‘bro, it’s only 8 O’Clock and we’ve still got six hours to go!’
Now, a lot can be said about drugs and what they do for you. Some, by colour and distortion, make you wonder. Others, by squeezing the last juices from your youth, send you into glorious fits of touchy-mania. This though, this drug of choice, is what you feel most right now and, by some beautiful magic, keeps you moving with or without a solution to your sinking realisation. The bus, after all, will only be here at 2 anyway so why are you even worried? Holy shit. Did we start early enough? The ancients, like us, used this drug to bring drama and rhythm to our rituals and to our prayers. And here, on the tip of Africa, beneath a blanket of celestial wonder, squeezed somewhere between a city and a desert, not much has changed. For a million years it’s been helping us shake and for a million more it will continue on with its pilgrimage.
Music, after all, is the drug of choice that powers floors like these and perhaps, for us, trance is the most compelling of all. It pounds you into submission. And then, with your eyes closed, it begs you to wake, teasing you like a hungry dog ready to snap, waiting, waiting – then, drop. It’s a kind drop that ebbs and flows, teasing and feeding us. And, for moments in this feast, you’re left lost in it. Pounding, pounding, pounding. Friendships turn to gold, memories to tears, dreams to reality, and here, in these dying hours, surrounded by like-minded fools, that sinking realisation is suddenly lost.
Drowning in love, living in light, you’ve suddenly forgotten. Bro, we’ve still got two hours to go! Pity, we could have done with another six.