Northern Soul. Sweeping the dance floor, sweeping the streets

The Story of Northern Soul – David Nowell

Les Cockell swept the streets during the week. But at the weekend he was the one who was playing on the Twisted Wheel.  He was somebody. That’s what Northern soul gave you.

It’s only a couple of lines, but that powerful quote in David Nowell’s great black book The Story of Northern Soul made me close the book at once. Suddenly it came to me that it was absolutely irrelevant, in our world, whether someone was a millionaire or not, had a good job or was in the biggest and most flourishing company in the formerly called Spanish state or whether he was now simply on Parada, like the old dyed-in-the-wool entertainer, of Spanish Television. People were divided in those glorious times, as the wise people of Asturias say, into people who lend or people who don’t lend.

Obviously there are enormous differences of all kinds between all people, but the basis of these differences is not only economic. Nor is it political. Nor for money. The differences are due to other things, perhaps not as obvious or evident as the normal world. What is clear is that in this foolish and vulgar world the things that categorise or differentiate normal people are, in order, money and parné, to put it simply and orderly.

It is not necessary to have the best clothes, nor the best motorbike, nor the best and most exclusive 7″ in the world in mint condition to be the best. It is enough to be yourself, if you are real. And if you are not, it depends on the talent you have to force yourself to be someone you would like to be, and it doesn’t matter which way you choose, or which way you find yourself if that’s the case: if you do it well the result will be impossible to tell whether it is spontaneous or wilful. And without complexes. But what doesn’t work, and you can tell and smell it for miles, is the person who wants to buy everything for 4 euros, know what is fair and loving in 4 and a half weeks and share it with their four acquaintances and with iron in their social networks.

the twisted wheel

I would think it would be great if they were happy, but to me it all seems a bit forced, I feel it and above all without need, with how easy it is to be natural and let everything flow and let each one be what they should be.

Our friends right now, may or may not have jobs, may be in a better or worse working moment, but it is enough that the first note sounds and we all, in rhythm, vibrate in the same way. Just like before and just like after. We will sweep the roads, like Les , or maybe not even that, it doesn’t matter.

In the infinite night of any club, which they would say in the fearsome bacaladeros, we will always be the same and there will always be the spirit. Pasta is fine, it may be necessary, what doubt can it be, but it will never be enough reason. And to illustrate, a wonderful and free moment, The Shakers.

Well, so long, good luck in life.

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