Picture it, late 80s, NYC, at the Paradise Garage. I'm young, supple, cute in the face, and thin in the waist. The Garage attracted the after-hours crowd, so the folks are fierce, fab, and fucked up.
There's the crowd chillin' with the weed, and other party people had been out boozing [Garage didn't sell liquor]. However, at the bowls of orange Tang, is the folks tapping into the mystic magic of hallucinogens, Acid or Mesc, have a sip [So the legend says].
I bought my own outside, while I waited for a member to get me in. Yes, good people, it was a kinda sorta members only club. It was bullshit, we all got in. Diversity was the key, str8, gay, lesbian, white, black, latino, walks of all life, ya know.
There I is in the mix. I know my twenties are coming, but I'm not there yet. Still a young chicken at the age of nineteen. I'm rocking the look of the time. Tight, black, tapered Levis, make me look, oh so fuckable. However, I'm not here for that.
Larry Levan is doing his thing on the turntables. I'm a part of the tribe of tonight. This beat comes on, and I feel it on my lips, my tits my body and my hips. It was magic good people. Here is a taste.
I had to put down those days, for my own survival and to continue the journey. This song gave me my cue to walk on and love what I had just lived. Much gratitude for NYC's Paradise Garage!
