(If you click on it, it’ll get big enough to be legible.)
Why yes, I am pretty goddamn pleased with the party mix I cooked up, at the invitation of managing editor Jon Fischer, for the Washington City Paper’s farewell-to-their-building party on Friday night. Some local pandering, some classic funk, just a pinch of rank sentimentality, a few reluctant sops to the 21st century. Something for everyone! Who is me or reasonably similar!
FULL DISCLOSURE: I am a heterosexual white male in my mid-thirties.
“Full Disclosure,” Fugazi, from The Argument, 2001. Track 24.
With few exceptions, judiciously selected selections such as this one kept the dance floor clear, the points of emergency egress accessible and the revelers safe from dancing-related injury or embarrassment. Even though it was a surprisingly cold night for May and dancing probably would’ve helped everyone stay warm.
Hey, don’t look at me. Fifteen of these 27 selections are, empirically, danceable. That’s a danceability rate of 55.5555555555556 percent. Ain’t no party like a City Paper party ’cause a City Paper party is just slightly more than half off the CHAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYN, mathematically speaking. Dawg.