Don’t hate me because I’m a shuffler
See you on the dfloor
If you’ve been following The Tab’s extensive coverage of the shuffling scene, you’ll know that it was sensationally banned last term.
But is shuffling really the bastard of our beloved underground music scene?
It’s easy to say yes with the staggering increase in ice gem hair cut, Air Max wearers manically flailing around the floors of Newcastle. After all there’s nothing worse than a man in unreasonably skinny jeans stamping to the sound of a “Joey Essex Deephau5”. These are the advocates ruining the reputation of the shuffle.
I go clubbing and I DJ, and yes, I shuffle. Does this make me a terrible person? To you, probably. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t be allowed to express myself on the dance floor. Is it not what house is all about: freedom of expression, universal love and unity?
It’s counter intuitive to condemn lovers of the same scene as you for what is essentially a harmless dance.
Sure, shuffling will always have its demons. There will always be a split between the shuff’haves’ and shuff’nots’.
The shuffle bashing squad will no doubt continue to harp on about how it’s ruining house music until we find another used-to-be-cool-but-is-now-mainstream thing to have a go at. Popular student DJ Joshua Lewis is just one devout member: “It’s not the dance, it’s the people that go universally with it… lel”.
But whether you can appreciate the dance or not, chances are that guy in the top knot carving up the dance floor in front of you really isn’t giving a shit.
So I’m asking you to relax and take up my liberal stance – maybe even have a go yourself. If you can’t beat them, join them.
If you do, here’s three things to remember.
1. If you so choose to perform the shuffle you must find ample space in order to bust a move without hampering the groove of clubbers around you.
2. The dance should only be performed for the right reasons – not to further your own narcissism with your prowess on the dance floor. It’s about feeling the music.
3. Don’t go out of your way to fit the stereotype. This means no combinations of air max, top knot, rolled up jeans or edgy shirt (the one you dragged from that musty clothing bin in Oxfam).