In The Dock: Songs with associated dance moves

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This week's subject: songs with associated dance moves

The case for the prosecution (Alison)

‘The Birdie Song’, ‘The Hokey-Cokey’, ‘Musicman’, ‘The Locomotion’, the entire Black Lace back catalogue. You almost certainly know the songs and you could probably give a competent performance of the dances. Indeed, you might even have some fond memories of a wedding or Butlins holiday where everyone got up and joined in. But believe me, it’s the rose (or rosé) tinted glasses at work.

At the outset of my prosecution I would like to clearly state that I am making reference to songs with associated, pre-formatted dances as opposed to songs which spontaneously inspire literal dance moves. The latter, known as interpretive dance, where the meaning of a song is interpreted through the medium of movement, is clearly brilliant; you need only look at Pan’s People for proof.

When songs with associated dances are played at events (usually those supported by a mobile disco DJ called Dave), people feel they have the right to force you to get up and join in. Indeed, it is even considered acceptable for a conga line to forcibly take hostages on its journey through the room(s). If you decline people assume that you are shy of your dancing prowess and offer encouragement: "But everyone can dance to this". But the fact that everyone can do it does not make doing it a good idea. If you refuse to participate you are labelled "miserable" and looks of disapproval are cast from the people who "know how to have fun".

I agree that dancing is fun, just not that kind of dancing. For me, dancing is about appreciating the music and there is a distinct lack of things to appreciate about the catalogue of songs with associated dances. Typically they are insipid soulless pop tunes, churned out for the masses, dances being bolted on for additional market appeal. The lyrics are superficial or even ridiculous, emphasis being placed on cramming in as many actions as possible (think Black Lace’s ‘Superman’). Dancing should also be about expressing your individuality and freedom (cf Ren’s impassioned speech in 'Footloose'), but there is nothing creative or unique about 100 people "pushing pineapple", and "grinding coffee" together.

I hate the fact that these songs make it acceptable to flout polite society’s tacit rules on bodily contact. I do not want some beer-laden old man to grab my hips, while I am led across the room by the arse of another beer-laden old man. Likewise, I do not want to see newly acquainted couples gyrating against one another while they recreate a 'Dirty Dancing' scene to the Lambada. In terms of specific moves, I should draw attention to the seemingly obligatory ballop* thrusting manoeuvre. Indeed, it is "the pelvic thrust that really drives [me] insane". The sight of your own parents and grandparents simulating sex on the dance floor is incredibly distressing and something I’m sure scars many people for life.

Perhaps you are reading this and thinking I’m being unreasonable; songs with associated dances are for kids. If this were true I would not forward any objections, let CBeebies’ Boogie Babies show them on repeat. But the fact is that gown-ups, who should know better, dance to these things. If it has been a while since you frequented your local discothèque, you may be under the false impression that the popularity of these songs died with the 80s and they should be cherished for their ability to conjure memories of a specific era. Think again! The soundtrack to my University life is sandwiched between Whigfield’s ‘Saturday Night’ and Steps’ ‘Tragedy’. And I would bet you any money that the floors of student union bars have been marked since then by the feet of 2-for-1-alcopop-fuelled students doing ‘The Macarena’, ‘The Fastfood Song’ and ‘The Cha Cha Slide’.

I urge the jury to find in favour of the prosecution on this matter and if not, please at least leave me in the corner to drink my vodka and coke in peace the next time they play ‘YMCA’.

* "Ballop": this term refers to the triangulated region between the upper thighs and lower belly. It could be replaced with the word "groin", but then I wouldn’t have the chance to use my favourite word.

The case for the defence (Dead Kenny)

There's you. And there's me. And there's... DANCING! But further still, I submit to you, wise old judge and jury, if it wasn't for dancing there probably wouldn't be me or you in the first place. And then there'd be a dirty great black hole where the majestic Los Campesinos! track resides on MySpace, and that's an alternative present none of us surely want to contemplate.

Confused? You would have been slightly had you found yourself in a provincial nightclub at 2am in the mid-90s faced with the prospect of busting the moves associated with Whigfield's 'bottom-tastic' discopop classic 'Saturday Night'. But the great thing was the only way to suss out the score was to closely monitor the wiggly bum shaking of the hot girl / guy / alien in front of you, while a similarly clueless chump / chumpette / spacechimp behind you did the same to you. Sex was had, and future generations were born.

Now I know what you might be thinking, that yes, dancing is all well and funky, but why do we need songs with associated dance moves rather than just let our bodies naturally interact with those crazy beats? I over-rule your objection on the grounds that you've clearly never been to a club where people are allowed to dance on a free-form basis, or been to a rave when not completely out of your skull on drugs. 99% of people can't dance, dancing is seen as a good indicator of your suitability in the sack, and therefore without carefully guided instruction in these matters the Human Race is likely to be exctinct by 2025. Ladies and gentlemen, the future of civilisation is in your hands, I beseech that you do not come to your decision lightly.

If you were being honest, learned friends, you've had a lot more fun doing the bunny's ear hand moves to 'The Birdie Song' with the secretary from Accounts than you ever did sitting in your bedsit feeling grumpy while listening to some mumbling Scottish indie. Sweeping your hand horizontally across the horizon of your mind's eye to John Travolta's 'Greased Lightning' got you much more attention from the opposite / same / alien sex than shouting loudly at the bar about how you were way too cool to shake some action. Doing the Timewarp was one of the great blasts of your life. Michael Jackson's moonwalk was ace for... well, a couple of minutes, anyway. Even songs with associated dance moves whose dance moves never caught on were still great records - Madonna's 'Vogue' or Kylie's 'Can't Get You Out Of My Head', for instance.

Dancing to songs with associated dance moves is one of those rare moments on a dancefloor where you quickly pick up exactly what you're supposed to be doing, and where any initial nervousness just gives you further opportunity for interaction with members of the opposite / same / alien sex. Which means you're left to relax, have fun and be yourself within the comfortable boundaries of a recognised structure. In fact, writing a song that doesn't lend itself to associated dance moves is just plain selfish and unsociable when you think about it. Heavy metal bands did cheat a little, mind, by having a one-dance-move-fits-all approach to their cock-rock nonsense, although getting down on your knees and shaking your greasy locks into those of your similarly wrong-haired layabouts was dancing in only the loosest sense, to be sure.

So, in summary, the only people who could possibly object to songs with associated dance moves are those people who are too lazy to dance and are upset that such songs / routines rob them of the excuse that they don't know how to dance. And those people who are too lazy to dance are almost certainly too lazy to fuck. So who cares what they think anyway?

So dismiss these trumped-up charges with immediate effect, don't forget to point to the stars and mind those steps on your way out of the courtroom.

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Thanks to Alison and Dead Kenny. Now it's over to you. Guilty or innocent? YOU decide. The comments box is open and awaiting your comments - you've got until Friday to make up your mind...