Speakerlove

Speaker Love

One of my favorite words in the English language is the word love. Not
because I'm a romantic, I'm the opposite actually– but because it is
one of the most expansive words in our vocabulary. This word can save
you from a slap in the face, get you into someone's good books and
possibly even help you out of a parking ticket.

There are many kinds of love – platonic love, passionate love,
unconditional love, brotherly love. But possibly my favorite out of
all of them, is the love I have for music. I'm talking about speaker
love baby, and I'm smitten.

About a year ago, my best friend and I were nursing a rotten hangover
and frantically pounding at the sides of our heads to stop the ringing
in our ears. We had spent the previous day and night at a Techno
festival in the middle of a field somewhere near Prague and (as was
usual for us) we were dancing in front of the speakers for most of
those 24 hours. We had seen a string of pretty phenomenal DJ's,
culminating with a four hour set by Colin Dale. As we sat in a state
of vegetation the next day we came upon a new term. A phrase that
completely encapsulated our happiness of the night before. Speaker
love. That absolute love of the sounds coming from within the speaker.
Scrambling around for a cigarette we tried to put down on paper a
definition for our new mantra but ended up passing out on the floor
instead.

The next week, back in Dubai, we went out to one of the big parties
happening in the city. It was some random big name-big house DJ,
playing at some random big name-big house club. The clientele were
shiny and plastic and the sound system was flimsy. Standing in a dark
corner, slugging down our drinks, my friend and I tried to get into
the mood. Why was it that we had had more fun in a dirty dingy hole in
the ground instead of in this pristine palace? Could it be the
enhancements available on the night, or could it just be because on
that night, the air was packed with excitement, sweaty bodies were
writhing to the sounds, hands were in the air, and eyes were closed in
pleasure. There was speaker love in the air that night.

You don't really see a lot of that in this city. Going out is mostly
an exercise in seeing and being seen. The dance moves come out only
when a camera is in the vicinity and air kissing dominates over hands
in the air. For weeks after our holiday my friend and I were in a
permanent state of depression. Gone were the bliss filled dancing
sessions, gone were the sonic cocoons we created for ourselves . It
seemed like hope was lost, until our next sojourn to foreign shores at
least.

But we were wrong. You don't find yourself in speaker love too often
in this city – but when it happens, it rivals any late night session
fuelled by lust. Quite a few of these nights come to mind, but I think
for the sake of modesty, I'll keep them to myself.
With the re-launch of an old club and lineups that rival Fabric on a
Friday night, I definitely plan to go out and fall back in love again.

Care to join me?