29 Jun 2010, Posted by admin in Thoughts, No Comments. Tagged anecdotal, deeper meaning, london, music, rave, social media
Mooch, Minimal and Mobiles
The best nights are the unexpected ones. The no plans, lets end up North, East, over the river or back home before lights out kinda nights. Maybe its the low expectations from nights you’ve haven’t built up, exchanged countless calls and messages about, shifted plans, bought tickets and got your outfit prepped a week in advance. There is something quite edgy and unexpected in getting a text, making a few phone calls and before you know its 6am on a Sunday, as you stumble out of a club in a part of town you never knew existed with a bunch of mates that you forged a friendship on the dancefloor with.
Luckily enough I had such an experience this weekend. The night progressed harmlessly enough from a strictly ‘show your face’ at a party and get the last tube home to a mammoth 15 strong crew tearing it up at an epic minimal tech night run by Mooch at The Hub – London Met’s Student Union funnily enough.
As we cut up shapes and danced away to hypnotic beats I wanted to share and shout about my amazingly unexpected night out but alas the Gods were against me. My mobile was flat out of juice. I frantically stabbed my stubby fingers at its cold inanimate body like a paramedic futilely trying to revive a dead, lifeless corpse. Transformed from Internet gateway to dead paperweight by my own inept pre-preparation plans I was suddenly and inextricably stuck by a piercing sense of loneliness. Wanting to share and shout about my night, I couldn’t tweet or Facebook.
The ability to snap out a shot and have it up in the interweb viewable and interactive with all my mates was something that I took for granted. Maybe it’s my inner diva talking, but I wanted people to know what I was up to. To share in the party if you will.
Shuffling home a like a weary rave battered zombie at 5pm the following evening after way too many cups of tea, I connected back into the social media stream to see a zilch – a big fat zero staring me back on the face. No interactions, to re-tweets, no nothin’.
Note to self: charge phone.
