QuoteThe first was that I at last accepted I have no idea what to do with my body while watching live music. Has anyone sussed this? The only options, it seems, are to sing along (not an option, mating foxes have better singing voices than me); be one of those people who demands a 10-yard radius so they can express themselves through the medium of interpretive dance (again, not an option for a woman whose dance moves were once mistaken for physical pain); do what Harry in When Harry Met Sally describes as “the white man’s overbite”, which is biting your lower lip while moving vaguely from side to side. That is the most popular option, albeit not the most satisfying, and I believe this is why so many white people have to get drunk after watching live music so as to achieve a delayed sense of release. That was my explanation for returning home at 2am completely drunk – drunk mainly on the female artistry I’d just seen, of course. But also: vodka.
Hadley Freeman ( a white Journalist) of
The Guardian wrote this.
It's just a small part of her review of the show in the UK.
Most whites dont know what to do for certain songs like this.
They sure knew what to do when she was performing the rock song.
