Raving I’m Raving

If Frida has inherited any part of my musical taste it may be the part that loves raving and electronic music. I spent much of the years 1999 to 2008 in various techno/electro/drum and bass clubs and, especially in the early part of that period, my weekend wasn’t complete without dancing to some repetitive beats until 6am. Bugged Out in Liverpool and Atomic Jam in Birmingham were particular favourites.

When we have music on at home, Frida rarely reacts to it, but if my wife or I start to dance to the music, she is immediately delighted and starts trying to copy our moves. And my ‘moves’ constitute dancing in only the loosest possible sense. It seems to me that for Frida music is something to make you move rather than to sit passively and listen to. I guess this tends to be true for children, witness how much they love to get on the dancefloor at weddings.

With this in mind we are considering taking Frida to her first baby rave soon:


Not quite sure what to expect, although I suspect it will be somewhat different from the raves that I used to attend. Mind you, given that it involves being awake at ridiculous hours of the morning, being jabbered at unintelligibly, smiled at seemingly at random and occasionally slobbered on, fatherhood does remind me of my raving days sometimes.

I do wonder if Frida will turn out to be a raver one day, and how I will feel if she does? It would certainly be hypocritical for me to object, so I hope I will be able to trust her to enjoy it without doing anything too stupid. It makes me realise how strange it must have been for my mum when I started getting home from nights out at ridiculous times while she was already up reading the Sunday paper, and I was trying to pretend it was completely normal. Still, quite a few years before I have to seriously worry about this!


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